Soon he arrived at an apartment with an open doorway. He stopped, placing his hand slowly on the wooden door without making a sound. He pushed it ever so lightly open. A small creak left the hinges. It swung open to reveal an old familiar woman sitting in a chair.
“Come in, come in, Kazimir,” Rynah said. The tension left Kazimir’s shoulders and he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside.
“Good to see you again Rynah,” he looked around the house, “Is there a cat here somewhere?” He asked, wanting to take care of the unpleasant smell. However, that was ignored as She instead went on to the task at hand.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Before Kaz could respond, the woman was already up and pouring him a cup.
The wind mage graciously took it and sat across from her. “Alright so what is it that you need me for?” He was as abrupt as ever but not in a harsh way.
“We used to be so close. Me and my son Mitya. You know I raised him, and it was a handful sometimes.” She began to go on about all the old stories that they shared together. About him growing up and going to school.
The more she talked the more her eyes began to swell with tears. Kazimir gently grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. She wiped the tears away and talked through it, “We were so, so close. I don’t know what happened.” She suddenly began to sob into her hands. The tears running between her wrinkled palms.
Kazimir inhaled through his nose and relaxed his shoulders. He moved closer to place a hand on her shoulder. Without any words he just waited for her to finish. A few seconds past before she brushed away the tears from her cheeks and spoke again. Her shaky hands reached out for a pen and paper, that were on the table in front of her.
“Will you help me. Help me write him a letter. I want to ask him not to send me to the retirement home,” her voice was wobbly, and she held back more tears from coming.
Kazimir pulled his chair beside hers and sat. He took the pen and paper in his hands. Looking at her, he waited with the pen and paper in his hands. No one could have guessed the surprising and emotional turn of events this had taken. His own thoughts raced in his mind as he jotted down all the anecdotes she spoke to him until the page was completely full.
WC 506