Page 28 of Repentance and Absolution
“You get that boy warm, now.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Clarence brushed the brim of his hat with his glove and turned his horse, leaving in a flash of lantern light as the dark and the cold enveloped me.
I walked toward the glow of the windows of our little half-house, thanking the stars above for Clarence and the fact that Oscar was at home, safe.
When I got inside, Oscar looked up from his spot on a stool near the stove. He was holding his hands out and staring at them in the lamplight.
“You okay?” I said.
“Yeah.” He lifted his hands, spreading all his fingers out. “I think I get to keep them all.”
“Thank God,” I said, ripping my coat off and stepping out of my boots so I could go o’er to him. “Let me see.”
I took his wrists in my hands and examined his fingers. They were still a bit red, but there weren’t any gray patches that would indicate frostbite.
“Okay. How are your toes?”
“My toes?”
I pulled up a stool and sat down, gesturing to his stockinged feet. “Give me your foot.”
Oscar gripped the edges of his stool and lifted his right foot so’s I could take it and rest it in my lap. Carefully peeling the wool sock off of it, I held my breath, praying that his feet were okay. Again, there was redness, and when I laid my palm against the pad of it, t’was cold.
“’Tis burnin’,” Oscar said, with a wince. “Your hands are so warm.”
“It’s gonna hurt as the blood starts movin’. Give me the other one. Go on.”
Oscar did as he was told, and I rubbed both his feet with my hands, checking each of his toes, while he sat there watching me and giving me the softest little smile.
“Jimmy, I’m fine. I’m gettin’ warmer now.”
“Good. I don’t think you’ve got any frostbite. Does it hurt?”
“Some. I guess that’s a good thing. Means the blood’s flowin’, right?”
“That’s it. Better’n the alternative.”
He looked away, at the walls of our little house, then back to me. “You know this ain’t the first time I been caught out in the cold.” His voice was quiet.
I stilled my hands and stared at his foot, thinking about the times he must have been out in harsh weather in Dawson, when he didn’t have a home to go to.
“Sure. I guess,” I said, tracing a finger along his arch and over the sole of his thin foot, his precious skin rosy with returning circulation, then resumed my actions, rubbing and chafing him to help it along.
“Anyway, I’m fine. I’m feeling warmer now.”
I kept up my foot massaging, though, because t’was a way of staying connected when I’d feared he was lost to me. Oscar was silent, but then he asked, in a soft voice, if I was mad he’d gone to the neighbor’s place when I’d told him to avoid it.
“No, I’m not mad at you for goin’ to their place, not in that situation. T’was the exact right thing to do, and I’m glad you had the sense to disobey me. But why on earth didn’t you just stay there?”
He gaped at me. “What? And not come back here? You’d a gone outta your mind!”
Well, he was right about that.
I ran a hand o’er my face and through my hair. “All right. All right. That’s true enough.”
“What did you think of Clarence?”
