* * * * * * *
In the time that followed, Father went back to the city now and again to sell his goods, but Letty never returned and Peter saw no reason to go back. His new life was enough for him with warm clothes and plenty of food, the blue sky and the sea. He never talked about his old life. If Father saw Joe on his trips to the marketplace, he never mentioned it; but ever after, when Letty painted a picture, somewhere in the background a tall figure with wings appeared.
Not more than two years later, when Letty was about sixteen and the world was as perilous as it had ever been, Father came home from the city with a cart full of children.
“This is a strange load you bring!” Mother exclaimed, “And what about those other things I asked for?”
“Can’t be had for love nor money,” Father replied.
“What!” Mother exclaimed. “No rice? No tea or sugar?”
“There’s no food to be had in the town, and what there is has been hoarded by the rich. It was Joe asked me to bring these children home. You remember what I told you about him.”
“What did he say?” Mother asked.
“He said it mightn’t be long now.”
“What mightn’t be long now?” Mother said.
“Dunno. That’s just what he said.”
So Mother helped the children down from the cart while Letty prepared soup and Peter gathered blankets. The children were ragged, thin, and silent. One little girl was too sick to walk. Father carried her inside and laid her on Letty’s bed. Mother led the other children to the table, thinking they’d be hungry as young wolves. They wouldn’t eat.
“What’s wrong with these children?” Mother asked.
“Joe says their folks has up and disappeared,” Father said. “And there’s war coming. No doubt they’ve seen things as would make your blood run cold. The city’s a bad place now. It was always bad, but now it’s worse. I only stayed long enough for Joe to round up these children.”
“Didn’t you sell the fish?” Mother asked.
“Gave it all away. No one but the very rich has money anymore, and people are starving.”
Father was silent for a time, then said, “No doubt if I was to go back tomorrow, Joe could send me home with another cart load same as today. But, he told me not to come back.”
The children sat silently in front of their steaming bowls until one little boy said, “I wish Joe was here.”
“Me too,” said another, and they began to cry quietly.
Letty went to the shed where she kept her paints and came back with a large canvas. “Here’s Joe,” she said, turning the picture around.
“That ain’t Joe,” said an older boy.
“Sure it is,” said the little boy. “I seen him like that dozens of times.”
“That’s how he always looks,” said another child.
“With wings? You’re mad.”
“Keeps ‘em under his black coat, don’t he,” said a little girl.
“What black coat? He never wore no black coat.”
“But that’s his face, for sure,” said an older girl. “I’d know that shining anywhere.”
“Who made that picture?” someone asked.
“I did,” Letty said, “after I met Joe.”
“So it is him,” said the older boy, and one by one, the children began to eat.
Using what she had, Mother made better clothes for all the children. After a week of good food they were strong enough and willing to help in the garden and with the chores. They had the blue sky and the sea, and more than one walked out with Letty and began to see other things. The little sick girl did not get better. Mother and the oldest boy, who was her brother, tended her night and day, but they all knew she would never get well and would leave them soon.