I wish I could ride our horse one day, although he’ll probably die if I ever try to. It’s a week after my 12th birthday and Papa finally came back home. I hate it when he goes to the city to sell the crops but at least he always brings me a present when it’s around my birthday. The horse isn’t for me though, Papa and Uncle bought the colt together since he'll be plowing our shared land when he's big enough. The present they brought back for me is a huge book on anatomy.
“How in the world were you able to find it? How could you afford it?” Mama takes care of the finances and I understand how she can be upset. Papa always gets me books for my birthday but none of them have ever been this big or detailed; although they are always science type books. He said he wants me to read practical things if I like reading so much, which I do.
“The regular customers spread word about our produce being bigger and sweeter so we sold more than usual. I took some money out of our half of the profit.” Papa nonchalantly explains and Mama points her nose up at him with her shoulders back to look more stern.
“How much?” Mama barks.
“It’s ‘cause of Feline that we got such a good harvest, Adelaide. We still have more than what we usually get.”
“I didn’t ask you that, Fredrick!” I get worried about when they stop using nicknames and mentally prepare to give up my book to be replaced by a cheaper one. Papa sighs with a pout pointing down at her. His pout is one of the things that Mama adores most about him. Papa has bright blue eyes that turn down at the ends with long eyelashes. With those and his expertly controlled facial features he looks like a boy who got in trouble for something he didn’t do.
“The book was 2 gold pieces,” he mumbles.
“What?!” Mama’s eyes grow wide.
“But I got it for 90 silver!” Now my eyes are wide! Mama eyes him with suspicion and Papa continues, “I was negotiating with a merchant about giving him a discount if he bought a few loads and I noticed the book was marked for 2 gold originally but marked down to 1 gold and 40 silver. We talked it over and I gave him the discount while he lowered the price on the book.”
“Ugh, I suppose it could be an investment into her future; helping her husband making money as a midwife or something.” Mama holds her head like she got a headache from Papa’s flagrant disregard for her efforts to save money: not only buying a, still expensive, book but also giving out discounts.
Once Mama calms down Papa relaxes then gives me a grin, “I hope you had a happy birthday, Feline.”
“I did, Papa,” I smile as big as a barn and slip into the next room to put the book alongside the others. I now have 7 books lined up above the hole in the ground I call a bed. Each one is a birthday present since I was five and I’ve read over the previous 7 books over a dozen times already. Being excited over this new monster of a book will have to wait though since I have chores I need to finish.
I glide past Mama and Papa with careful steps and head back out to the fields where I left the plough. Loosely gripping onto the handles, I leisurely push the metal scythe through the soil for the last time today. Now that the fertilizer is mixed in properly we can let winter through without this being a worry. My next chore is also in preparation of winter: gathering firewood. I take one of our newer axes along with my favorite and latch them to my slim waist. The forest is only a few steps away from our fields so I don’t have to go very far from home. I remember when I was ten Papa brought me along for assistance, but after I beat off a bear Uncle and Papa decided that it was okay for me to go alone every once in a while. Mama was furious even after Papa used his pout and I chipped in with my own version. Even if she was angry, it’s still a fact that the job gets done faster when I go into the forest alone. I’ve been targeted as prey by several carnivores since then but only got some scratches as a result.
Within the loosely crowded wilderness I find a tree of adequate size and set up to hack at it downward with my trusty ol’ axe. It slices in clean enough and stops just where I want it to in order to begin the guiding wedge. As soon as the blade is free I take up another stance for my favorite part… with one swift movement the metal slices through the wood and I swiftly step out of the way out of the way, “timber!”
The shout is completely unnecessary since I’m the only one out here; however, it’s still fun pretending that any animals around understand me and scurry off in gratitude. My axe couldn’t reach all the way through the meter wide trunk so the tree splinters off the stump and knocks a few others out of the way while going down. This one wooden giant took down two others and I’m satisfied with these for now. Going to the middle of the tree where the first branches span out I rip them off by hand and lay them to the side for later, split the trunk through the middle to make it easier to hold onto, and balance the still long lumber over my shoulder to stomp out of the woods. I lay all the timber at the outskirts of the forest so Papa, Uncle, and the older boys can chop them up to fill the wagon as best as they can. Heather, our old mule, may be weaker than she has been but is still plenty strong enough to tug along a full wagon a couple times.
When the work is done it’s almost dusk and Papa decides to walk with me to the house. “Have you finished that book about farm animals?” His question makes me laugh since he knows that I’ve read it to the point where I can recite any page. There's no need to respond to something so obvious with words. “Well, you’re the one who’s gonna train that colt from now on. He’s still young so go easy on him.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Papa, that book didn’t have anything about training in it! It only has information on taking care of animals.”
“Oh, you’ll be doing that too,” he adds while I double my flabbergasted expression. I don't take care of anything more than the dogs, pigs, and hens since the old mule just about takes care of herself. “If the book didn’t say how to train a horse then just train it like it’s a dog; you did a great job teaching the dogs.”
I sigh, he can be so exhausting - I don’t understand how he can just lump two completely different animals into the same category. “What do you want to feed him?” I ask while inwardly thinking of what I need to teach a horse. Heather usually gets hay and grain but a growing colt might need something more substantial.
“Well, we figure you’d know what to do,” he’s awfully easy-going about not knowing what to feed the year old horse he just bought.
“What did you feed it on the way here?” I try to control my voice and not lose focus enough to stomp the ground in.
“We just let it eat grass. I thought your book would have told you that horses eat grass.” I know he’s just teasing me at this point but it makes matters worse when he brings my books into it.
“If you have so much trust in me then I’ll be using the grain we have in storage until we begin to collect straw next year.” I pick up my speed to where he’ll have to run after me to tell me to find something else to use. He thinks he’s so good at teasing but I'm a pretty fast learner.
~~~~~~~~~~
Winter came soon after that and I spent most of my time in the barn to make sure the colt keeps warm enough. Even though the barn is still really cold I don’t feel it as much as others do. In that time I read through the anatomy text only once. It had so much information that I had to stop and process what I read more than a few times. I’m actually glad I don’t have to sleep in one room with 14 other people since I can read without listening to half the family snoring and disturbing my concentration.
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s almost spring when we get a rare visitor. Just in case something goes wrong I’m sent to the barn to hide. Through the cracked door I can listen to the greetings a little and learn that it’s our closest neighbor, Mr. Munder. They take him inside to talk while I’m stuck in here, figuring out what they’re talking about.
“Why do I have to hide?” I ask Ethan, the horse I’ve been training for seven months. He responds by going back into his stall. He’s really good at recognizing words so he thought I gave him an order and went to hide like we’re playing a game with the younger children. His ignorance makes me smile and I go after him for the company. “I know that by now you’ve noticed how strong and heavy I am,” I say while I ease down next to him. “What I’m not sure is if you realize how strange it is. Mama and Papa try not to make a big deal out of it but I know Papa loves it while Mama’s worried about me finding a husband.” I pause to worry about letting her down. Women are meant to get married, especially farmer’s daughters. “Sometimes I wish I was normal,” I stroke his pink nose, “but then I remember that I’d be dead by now if I was.” I take his chin in my hand and bring it up to look at him, without struggle. “You should be glad I don’t easily get hurt, Sir. Stubborn.” He recognizes my serious tone and lowers his ears with big doe eyes. I can’t resist that face and let his chin go, scratching under his jaw. He’s like Papa sometimes with how emotional (manipulative) he can get.
It’s an hour before I’m let out of the barn. Papa, Mama, Uncle, and Aunt’s faces are mixes between anger, worry, and fear. “What’s wrong, Mama?” She’s most likely to tell me if it’s really bad news.
“There’s a war to the North.”
“Oh,” If it’s to the North then it means that we’re most likely safe for now, but there will still be a need for soldiers. I’m pretty sure that the national army takes all men from ages 15 - 40. If that’s accurate then Matt, Sean, Peter, Ben, Junior, and Papa will have to go. I don’t know anything about war but I know that it’s terrifying. The adults refuse to talk about the one they lived through and the only thing my books say is that farmers give a fraction of their crops to the army in support.
The rest of the day is spent in a foreboding silence. At night I can hear Aunt sniffing through otherwise silent sobbing, neither her nor Mama sleep much for the next few days. Aunt will have to part with Matt, Ben, and Junior while Mama will have let go of Papa as well as Sean and Peter.
The officers gathering men from the civilians don’t come for another month, an extremely anxious month. It’s late in the evening when their wagon interrupts our supper, like drumming in the distance. With a few bangs on the door our brows drop and since I’m the closest I’m sent to open the door. It’s too late for any courtesy calls and too late to try to hide me as most of us have a clue as to who's on the other side of the door. I try hard to control my strength and the door slides open easily. There, I find five men towering over me. Each one is dressed in thick, musty clothes and they all have a mildly irritated attitude. The one in front reads a paper and scratches his grimy neck.
“The Brant family?”
“Yes, it is,” Uncle stands up and approaches the door, allowing me to return. The man doesn’t bother to hide his indifference as he speaks to Uncle.
“We’ll collect the men of this house from the ages of 15 to 40.” He glances behind Uncle at my cousins and brothers, “you bring your own food and clothes until we reach base. We’re heading straight for Bristow from here so pack accordingly.” Mama panics and calls out to him before he can continue his turn toward their wagons.
“It’s quite late, sir, would you like to have supper with us? We can make more food for you and your companions.” Aunt and Mama have a brief moment of talking without speaking and Aunt continues for her.
“I’m sure that you’re tired from sleeping under the sky as well. If you’d like, we could make room for you. It may be one room but it’s still indoors.” Even while Mama spoke all the soldiers were interested. After Aunt spoke the leader of the group was obviously willing to accept.
“Alright,” he grins, “bring out something to drink and we may turn out to be good friends.” I’m not sure why he added the topic of friendship so I look to the adults; their eyes shine and they laugh with wide smiles, waving the men in. All the children under 9 y/o are told to go to Aunt and Uncle’s room to sleep for tonight while the rest prepare the only other room of the house for the soldiers. Aunt goes with me to pick out a pig for me to slaughter and helps me tear the organs out. Mama meets us outside to cook it while Miranda and Eleanor prepare more side dishes from our preserved food. Aunt and I quickly wash up behind the barn and bring out the barrel of alcohol Uncle’s been saving for an emergency. I sit it next to the back door so no one can see me carrying the large burden then help Mama to keep the fire strong while she watches the meat.
“You be courteous to the soldiers, Feline.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Pretend to be weak, don’t speak unless spoken to, if you have to speak then don’t say much, don’t make eye contact, and slip away if anything upsets you; I’ll check on you when I can and we can deal with it as a family.”
“Yes, Mama.” I’m unsure what she means by being upset or why she’s telling me all this. There must be a reason, Mama’s very smart and never wastes a thought.
“Just keep your distance without being rude,” she orders, “you may not be grown all the way but you have a nice face; sometimes that’s all you need to be bothered by some men.”
“Yes, Mama.”