Garm was in a less-than-stellar mood when he woke up that morning. Yesterday's toils had left him exhausted, which would normally lend itself to heavy sleep, but instead, he had tossed and turned all night. Several times he would wake up, memories of a turbulent dream quickly fading, and just lay there for several minutes staring at the ceiling. Soon exhaustion would retake him, he’d fall asleep, and then the pattern would play out again. On and on the cycle continued until morning came.
Garm walked downstairs to find his sister already rifling through cabinets, getting breakfast ready. She’d already found bread, cheese, jam, and butter, and looked to be boiling eggs on the stove.
“Morning,” Garm grumbles and lets out a gaping yawn before he can stifle it. He finds himself a chair and begins slicing bread.
“Good morning,” Hannah says while taking the eggs off the stove and putting them down on the table, “you missed Mr. Madsen.”
Garm adds butter and cheese to his slice, takes a large bite, swallows, and then asks, “Mr. Madsen was here again? Did he have any updates on the telephone pole situation?”
“No, nothing like that. He came to see Da about something that happened at Widow Maria’s farm. I only caught a little before they left, but he seemed quite rattled.”
Garm takes a moment to absorb the news while chewing on his bread. After a few seconds, he replies, “So Jonas just left? As in walked? All the way to Widow Maria’s farm?”
“He took his cane with him,” Hanna shrugs.
Garm mulls over the situation for a bit. “He’s gonna be in a hell of a mood when he gets back,” he mumbles and stares into empty air.
“Maybe,” Hannah begins while filling her own plate, “but there’s nothing we can do about that. Besides, it seemed important.”
Hannah starts peeling an egg, then stops to hide a yawn of her own. Garm looks her over and notices she seems a little out of it as well. She slouches on her chair just a little, and he can see there are bags under her eyes.
“You slept poorly too, huh?” Garm says, more like a statement than a question.
Hannah nods in accord, “Weird dreams.”
The two sit and enjoy their meal and let the rays of morning sun shine warmth into the little kitchen. Finishing off their breakfast the two get to cleaning dishes and putting away the food. They put the final knife back in its drawer when Jonas Helland enters the house, red in the face from the trek and breathing heavily.
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“Welcome back,” Hannah begins carefully, “how was Widow Maria?”
Their father leans on the kitchen doorframe and lets his breathing calm down while looking uncertain and, Garm notices, a little haunted. After several moments Hannah looks like she’s about to ask again when their father stutters, “We believe… no… erm…” He looks around the room like the words will come to him any time now. “There’s been a bear at Maria’s farm. Took one of her cows.” Jonas looks like he has more to say, but he descends into silence again.
“A bear? Are Maria and the girls alright?” Hannah says while looking concerned.
“There haven’t been bears around here since Granddad was around,” Garm adds.
“Well, it’s here now,” their father grunts, “and I’m gonna have to deal with it. We can't afford to lose any of our sheep to bears. What would we do without them?”
Garm tries not to scowl at Jonas’s jab. Besides, he could help, couldn’t he?
Jonas halts over to the rack by the window, leans his cane by the wall, and raises his hands to reverently take the Krag down from its perch. With no support from the cane, he carefully works his way back to the living room. He scowls at Garm as he notices him eying the rifle in his hands, making Garm quickly look away. With great effort not to stand on his bad leg, Jonas hobbles over to his rocking chair and sits down before fishing a rag out of his pocket.
Not saying a word Garm and Hannah eye their father where he sits, polishing the rifle’s barrel. The news is concerning, but they’re both restless to do something rather than just sit on their hands. The story of the bear attack must have made its way through their little community by now. Surely their neighbors must know more about the happening at Widow Maria’s farm.
Noticing their expectant glances Jonas puts down the rifle. “What?” he asks, eyeing them back.
Rattled out of his stasis Garm thinks fast and says, “We’re out of flour, I thought Hannah and I could run over to the Madsens for a refill.”
Giving him an inquisitive stare, their father nods slowly and gestures over at his coat. “Take some coin from my pocket and bring the bag Sandra gave us last time.”
Being reminded of old gifts, Hannah quickly rummages through a cabinet and pulls out the pitcher, now empty of Mrs. Madsen’s last gift. While she gathers her things, Garm gets some money from the coat, puts it in his pocket, and starts pulling on his clothes. After a minute, the two are ready and raring to go.
“Listen, you two,” Jonas begins, losing his regular scowl for a moment. After a brief pause to make sure they are listening he continues, “Stay on the road, you hear, no detours.”
Jonas looks like he has more to say, but after waiting for him to continue he adds no further comment. Garm and Hannah look at one another uncertainly. Their father’s brief display of genuine concern makes them stop for a moment and consider him.
“I’m not a child anymore…” Garm tries.
“No detours!” Jonas restates firmly, his trademark scowl planted back on his face.
Seeming to be done with the conversation, their father goes back to polishing the rifle. Hannah looks at Garm, gives him a look that says, ‘Guess we better listen to him,’ and ties her shoes. Garm, a little dazed, just nods and opens the door.
Garm and Hannah leave the Helland farm trying not to rush as they walk towards the mill. Wild speculation and unlikely theories already forming in their minds. Nothing ever happens out here, so far from civilization. Now a bear has shown up for the first time in who knows how long and is stirring trouble. It makes the blood pump just a little bit faster than usual.