Fresh Beginnings [Hudson]

Hudson had been lucky, struck down with a severe case of Polio when he was still fairly young, he'd been one of the scarce few kids that made it through the outbreak at the time. The cost had been heavy, as he wa spermanently fitted with somewhat garish metal braces on both legs, and could not run or even walk without the aid of crutches, it made living on a vast and expansive ranch a bit difficult, but he made the best go of it that he could.

When he'd been let out of the hospital, Sam had given his father and himself a room in the main house, this was for his own ease, as well as his safety, he was still in the recovery phase and had to have an eye kept on him, it made doctor's visits more convenient as well.

Hudson despite his shortcoming was a fairly rowdy kid, though not overly rough or rude, he never really slowed down or stopped unless he had to. Being confined to the house and the short area around it drove the boy mad usually, but today he had something much more interesting to keep him occupied.

He'd seen the little girl that Sam had brought home not all that long ago, she was so small and so nervous, his dad had told him that she came from a very bad place, that she needed a friend, and he was determined to fill that role. Sam had told him the other day that she didn't speak very much English, so he'd decided to do something else to try and help her talk to him, carrying a big pad of construction paper and a pack of crayons under his arm as he limped his way out of the house, smiling as he saw her sitting there, "hello. Sarah, right?" He hobbled over to her, climbing onto the swing and setting his crutches to the side, along with the things he'd brought, "I'm Hudson...Hud if it's easier." He wasn't sure his much she was picking up, he would have to suss that out, but this was a start.

As though in answer to her uncertainty a boy who looked around her age came out to join her. She studied him curiously, eyes lingering on the heavy metal around his arms and legs, wondering what had happened to him. She had seen people who had been hurt back at home, but Sam assured her things like that didn't happen here, and wouldn't happen to her again.

She smiled shyly at him as he came to sit next to her, shifting to fully face him as he sat. She nodded at his words, understanding introductions.

"Sarah." She pointed to herself. "Hudson." She pointed to him next, another smile and a nod. She hesitated a moment, before reaching out, a couple fingers brushing lightly against one of his leg braces before looking up at him with concerned eyes. "Hurt?" She asked, not quite able to swallow away the cold, anxious feeling in her stomach at the thought of what might have happened.

He was glad that at least she understood him at the moment, nodding and grinning wide at her, "Yeah! Cool, nice to finally meet you, Sarah!" She seemed so shy, so soft, he found himself lowering his voice to a much softer tone than what he normally used, not wanting her to think he was loud or too rough, he didn't want to scare her before he even got to know her after all.

His face didn't falter or fall when she questioned him about his legs, shaking his head when she asked him if he was hurt, "not hurt, sick." He chuckled softly, "well, not sick anymore. I was sick." He smiled and pulled the pad of paper between them, handing her the box of crayons, "want to draw?" He'd been told once that you can tell a lot about someone through the things they draw, so he figured maybe this would be a good way to help her communicate how she was feeling, "sometimes it's a good way to get your thoughts out."

He pulled one of the colors out to start drawing out a childish cat, chuckling, "how are you getting along here?" He looked up at her with a curious smile, trying to keep his own words fairly basic and easy to pick up, he would explain whatever she didn't understand the best he could, he figured maybe speaking to someone her own age would help, "how old are you? I'm nine." He grinned, leaving her room to answer.

She nodded in understanding when he explained what had happened to him, feeling a little better that it hadn't been a big terrible thing, but still sad that it had happened to him.

Her eyes lit up at the paper and crayons, reaching for an orange crayon, carefully sketching out a cat to be a friend for his, before swapping it out for a blue crayon to start drawing a couple of flowers lower on the page. His question of how she was doing drew a bit of a confused look, but she still smiled at him. She had an idea of what he was trying to ask though, and she chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully as she picked her words.

"I'm seven." She answered. "I like it. Everything...it's...is quiet. And good. Not all...ummm...." She couldn't think of the word, instead reaching for the red crayon, drawing a serious of sharp, quick lines outward from one point, like an explosion.

Hudson laughed when she drew the cat next to the one he'd drawn, pulling our a green one to add scribbly grass under them, listening to her carefully as she spoke. He didn't know too much about where she'd come from, his dad said Sam had found her when he was in the war, and that he'd fought hard to find her and bring her here. Hud only had scant knowledge of the war or what it was like, mostly from the stories that Sam sometimes told him, or from things he heard from other places, it was bad, and scary, and he couldn't imagine being so little trapped in all of that. He frowned and felt his heart hurt for her a little bit.

He looked down when she drew the explosion and nodded, letting out a soft breath, "it must have been so scary. You're really brave." He smiled and took out a yellow crayon to draw a sun over their two cats, "it is quite here. People are nice." He chuckled softly, "I don't get to go out and play with the other kids around here much..." He glanced down, "they don't really like playing with me...Because I can't run'n stuff with them." He looked up at her, "but...If you want...And if you don't mind that I can't do those things...we can be friends?" He took a pink crayon and drew a heart over the two cats, hoping she'd maybe get what he meant.

She gave a little bit of a shrug, looking down at the page and the red lines when he called her brave. She didn't feel very brave. She'd felt little. And afraid. And wanted to make things better, but she didn't know how and had been too scared to anyway. Even here and now she still felt scared sometimes, like bad things might still come and happen. She took the crayon and scribbled over the red lines, not wanting to look at them anymore.

Next she took the blue crayon again, adding some flowers into the scribbled grass the cats sat in, they looked silly and happy, sitting in the sun together, even if they were just little doodles.

When he started speaking again she looked up, listening intently even if she didn't understand it all. Whatever he was saying seemed to make him a little sad though, and that made her frown. Friends she understood though, and she was quick to smile and nod at that one.

"Friends!" She agreed, nodding again. "Friends...yes." It would be nice to have someone around her age to spend time with, and maybe she'd start to understand things better too as she did.

He sighed a little and deflated, nodding and looking down over the red lines she'd drawn, "yeah..." He could see the look on her face, and he kind of had a feeling he knew what she was feeling, "yeah...I get it." He looked up at her, "people call you brave and you don't really feel it right?" He glanced over his legs, "people call me lucky a lot...But I don't always feel lucky." How lucky was it to be a kid that couldn't even do most of the most basic kid things? He smiled a little though when she added flowers to the grass, "bright and sunny, like it should be, yeah?" He grinned at her, looking please as she lit up when he mentioned being friends.

"Good!" He chuckled, "then we'll be friends. So we don't have to feel all alone and stuff." He was just as desperate for it as she probably was, he realized. He'd made a lot of friends with the adults, but the kids tended to give him a wide berth, or ignore him completely, he supposed he couldn't blame him, he knew he wasn't much fun to play with when he couldn't roughhouse or run around with them, but at least she seemed to not mind the quiet and calm, and any talking she didn't want to do, he'd gladly fill the silence.