[In which Scout meets Mr. Alien...]
It came to Scout on the chilled snow filled day as she sat staring at the window and warming her toes between two small hands. It seemed like a rather profound conclusion after she had run through the ice to retrieve the paper for her Pa. The insightful statement being that winter, especially when tiny frosted flakes fell from the sky, was cold. Furthermore, she did not like it one bit. The ice bit almost as hard as the wind and in that pretense it was safe to assume that winder did not like her too much either. Her pa, on the other hand, was quite content with the cold weather, fashioning his ward in a deep blue scarf, fuzzy jacket and pink mittens. Scout was not amused, pink was for girly girls. But she could forgive him as long as he made Hot Chocolate every time she helped out in the old barn.
The structure of the barn was haphazard at best and not the nicest place to be given that it was drafty and had glass broken everywhere. Scout found it fun to play in when it was warm out, but then the sunset came faster than it was supposed to and the tall shadows scared her a little. Only a little, mind you. Then the snow began to fall and it was at this point that Lucas wanted to start cleaning it up with the break in his work.
The snow was falling faster than it had in the beginning of winter making the world real pretty and white coated. Note, you didn’t hear that from Scout. She blew out her cheeks and watched the flakes fall from her lashes and melt on her cheeks. Light hazel eyes flicked from the darkened corner where hay was to be stored back to the stalls. Curious she moved past her father, diligently working on…something, and onto a rickety ladder leading to the loft. From there, she thought, the stall would be completely visible.
“Pa?” She called out with one arm on one rung of the ladder, feet hastily climbing after her until she reached an adequate height.
“Hm?” He responded, not lifting his gaze from the broom and haphazard trash littering the floor.
“Didja have any horses here?” Scout asked as she reached up to the top of the loft.
“‘Did you’,” Lucas corrected without a hitch. “And no, I personally have not owned any horses here. Maybe the previous owners.”
“You mean the old man living in the room next to mine.” She muttered, now sitting in the loft, analyzing the open hay bale door and pigeon droppings. Her nose crinkled at the sharp cold. “I don’t like him much.”
“What do you mean, dove?” Lucas stopped, ears perking at the muffled sound of his daughter. “Scout? How did you?”
Scout poked her head down, giving him a ‘duh’ look as she pointed to the ladder.
“I mean the old man living next door.” She clarified in an exasperated voice.
“There is no man living next to you.” Lucas said, looking up and resting against his broom.
“Yeah huh there is.” She nodded her head vigorously. “He mumbles and walks around a lot.”
“Have you ever seen this man?” he asked before resuming sweeping. “I think you have an over active imagination.”
“I ain’t lying to you, Pa.” She grumbled before pouting atop her perch.
“Ain’t is not a word, love.” Again an auto correction as he moved about the barn.
“It is too.” Scout argued for the sake of arguing, her gaze moving back to the bright door. A flutter of wings and a loud noise made her squeak and fall backwards. Stunned quiet, she froze as a frosted white bird with large golden eyes took step into the barn loft.
It’s head swiveled as if inspecting her before squatting out and watching the blinding snow beyond the door, paying her no mind.
“Scout!?” Lucas shouted a bit to loudly, disturbing the owl taking perch in the loft. Scout quickly shushed him as she watched the bird, enamored.
“….Pa…” She whispered. “Psst. Pa! It’s an alien.”
Lucas arched a brow at his daughter before slowly moving up the ladder. The owl was finely spooked as it let out a cry before flying out the doorway.
“Didja see it, Pa?!” Scout hopped up and down in her seat, reaching for her father’s arm. “A real live alien and I saw it first!”
“That was not an Alien, Scout.” Lucas said a bit dumbfounded. “That was a snowy owl.”
“An owl?” Scout asked, taking a mitten into her mouth before turning her head to her father. “I like him. You think he likes us?” Scout’s wide hazel eyes glassed over with the bright look of a playful daughter wanting for all the world to be loved.
“I think so. He’s just upset we’re in his space.”
“What do you mean?” Scout asked, slightly offended at the prospect of hurting something so elegant.
“Well, you know how you go to your room to be alone and read?” Lucas explained, chin resting on his folded arms. “Well. Owls like to be alone a lot.”
Scout pouted and looked out over the snowy ground. “What if he gets lonely?”
“They like lonely.” Lucas attested but could see he was doing no comfort to the little girl. Scout pulled off her mittens and crawled over to the small straw bundle the bird had landed on. Gently as if made from the finest silks, the fleece gloves were placed onto the floor.
“I think his rump will be warmer now.” She shuddered and moved closer to Lucas. She was visibly down so Lucas did the only thing he knew how. Grinning broadly he moved to pat the girl’s head before scooting down the ladder. Scout followed in suite.
“How does hot chocolate sound?” Lucas offered as the young lady hopped down.
“I’ll totally race you there!” She called out running into the blizzard. Lucas merely grinned before jogging out after his daughter.
No one looked back at the loud screech as the snowy owl returned to his roost. An elderly man sat in the window with him, stroking the bird’s head as he muttered something about lemons and ghosts. Soon after, the bird was aflame and the man gone, light cackles following in the wake.
The snow slowed and a golden eyed boy blearily looked up, wings flapping slightly before curiously reaching towards pink fleece mittens and sleepily slipping them on before crashing into oblivion.
