Squatting down on his haunches Grim Madsen picks up another sack of grain and swings it over his wide shoulders.

“Jeez, boy, you know it’s okay to just take more trips?” Birk Madsen says with a grin as he hoists distinctly fewer bags onto his own shoulders.

Grim answers his father with a grin of his own and begins lugging the load from the cart back towards the mill. While carrying, he’s reminiscing on his youth, of the days he would spend fantasizing about being big and strong like his father. He knows it’s a bit petty, but can’t help but feel some pride at not only reaching his father's strength but surpassing it. It’s a simple joy, but helping out and feeling needed makes him smile ear to ear.

Grim half-jogs up to the large building that makes up the old mill. He passes through the door, and down the stairs to the storeroom. Smelling the dry air of the cellar, he walks in a straight line to the same nook for the fourth time that morning. He places down the bags of grain, picks up two smaller bags of finely ground flour from the table in the middle of the room, and makes his way back outside.

Meeting the huffing form of his father at the door Grim says, “I’ve got it, Dad,” and swaps his bags of flour for Birk’s grain.

“Oh, thank you!” His father replies, glad to exchange his sacks for a lighter load.

Grim just nods and takes the grain downstairs, putting them down with the rest. Having sent the last two sacks of flour with Birk the table is empty, and so he begins jogging back up the stairs for the last of the grain.

When he gets outside he meets his mother carrying a basket of hay, waddling over to the little shed where Timothy, their one and only horse, is stabled. Seeing Sandra Madsen’s weary look, Grim takes a detour and comes over to her.

“You need some help, Mom?” he asks, reaching for the basket.

“No, no,” she says, waving him away, “thanks for askin’, but I got this. You should go help your dad, Grim. Make sure he doesn’t ruin his back before tomorrow.” Then she wipes some sweat from her forehead and waddles on to prepare Tim for the trip he and her husband would soon have to go on.

Figuring there’s little he can do, Grim walks back to the wagon. Sometimes he worries for his mother. He would never say so out loud, but Sandra Madsen has taken on several pounds over the winter and looks to be in worse physical shape than usual. She really does like to bake, Grim ponders to himself, his father’s protruding belly was proof of that. Shaking the unkind thoughts from his mind he refocuses on the task at hand. There are sacks of grain to carry, and he will do so without complaint.

God knows today is a good day for hard labor, Grim muses. He thinks back to that morning, waking up to see his father returning home from Widow Maria’s farm with a haunted look in his eyes. Since then it’s been all work, getting ready for tomorrow's big trip to Brunvik. Thankfully his father’s good spirit eventually returned, evidenced by a determined glint Grim spotted while the two were carting grain earlier.

Coming back to the wagon, Grim sees his father pick up another sack, ready to bring it inside. Grim raises a hand and says, “That’s alright, Dad, I’ll carry the rest. You should take a breather.”

Putting down his load with a grateful sigh, his father replies, “You got it, son. I need a little break anyway.” Leaning on the wagon while Grim works, Birk looks thoughtfully towards the ladder resting beside the rose bushes. “I’m gonna take a look at that leak in your room. Best do it before I leave.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“You know you should get some real rest,” Grim says and gives his father a meaningful look, “while you still can.”

“Plenty of time for rest after dinner,” his father replies with a dismissive gesture, “Your Mom’s making pies for dessert.” Patting himself on the belly and sporting a gleeful grin thinking of the feast Sandra was making them, Birk sets off to gather his tools.

“Never a moment’s peace, huh Dad?”

“Such is the life of a miller, Grim.”

“Right you are.”

Like that, the Madsen family worked throughout the morning. Birk carrying around produce and materials, Birk hammering away at the roof, and Sandra preparing Timothy before going inside to make lunch.

When the final sack of grain has been stored away in the cellar, Grim comes outside to hear his father calling for him from the roof.

“Yohoo, Grim! You there?”

“I’m here, Dad. Did you forget one of your tools?” Grim shouts back, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“We’ve got company. Reckon it might be your friends.”

Garm was coming over? Wait. Friends? That means Hannah’s here too. Grim strolls around the house and towards the road. Sure enough, Garm and Hannah are coming towards him. He gives them a wave, which they return.

“Mornin’, you two!” Grim shouts when he thinks they are close enough to hear him.

Closing the distance with a brief half-jog, Garm returns the greeting and asks about the water wheel.

“Done fixed it up yesterday. Like I said, it was an easy task for me and Dad,” Grim says with an easy smile.

Hannah looks a little flustered as she comes up behind Garm, but gathers herself and asks, “Have you been working all morning? You look tired.”

Grim looks sheepish for a second and answers, “Yeah, we’ve been gettin’ the wagon ready for Dad’s trip to Brunvik tomorrow morning. Can’t say I slept too well either, but work waits for nobody.”

“You too, huh? Garm and I also had problems getting sleep last night,” Hannah says and looks thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe there’s something in the air?” she shrugs.

“It’s probably a coincidence,” Grim starts, “but you didn’t come out here just to chat about work and missed sleep, did you?” Grims beams at them like he just thought of something funny and adds, “As fun as it would be to play hide and seek as we used to.”

Garm puts on an exaggerated sullen cadence, “You never did share your best hiding spots…”

“He did share them with me,” Hannah adds under her breath while looking at her shoes.

“...but yes, we did come with ulterior motives,” Garm continues, “Widow Maria and the bear attack. Do you know anything? Jonas told us next to nothing, but he’s clearly hiding details from us.”

“Can’t say I know more than you two,” Grim answers and looks over to where his father works on the roof. “Heard about the same when Dad got home this morning. Bear must have climbed through a window, he said. Ate a cow and left. He got quiet after that. I asked, but he wouldn’t share details.”

“Climbed through a window?” Hannah wonders out loud. “The only window on that barn large enough for an entire bear would be the big hatch over the main door… three meters above the ground.”

Grim looks uncertain, “Maybe Dad meant it wrecked its way through one of the little ones on the back wall?”

Unsatisfied with what little information they have to go on, Hannah mumbles, “Yeah, maybe,” in reply to his explanation

“Don’t suppose there’s any point in asking our parents again,” Garm says, letting out a deflated sigh.

“No, I doubt diggin’ will get us much,” Grim says before looking like he’s remembered something and bluntly changing the topic. He looks almost ponderous for a silent moment, before going, “Hey, Hannah? I’ve… uh… got somethin’ to show you. Come with me a sec, will you?”

Caught off balance by Grim's sudden shift in gear, Garm can only look at Hannah's less-than-subtle attempt at gathering herself, before being led inside.

Looking around, Garm realizes he’s been left alone in the yard. the silence stretches on, only to be interrupted by Mr. Madsen hammering away on the roof. Garm looks back at the house where his best friend and his sister disappeared and registers a barely noticed fact he’s uncertain how to feel about.

Grim’s ears were a shade redder than usual when he asked Hannah to come with him.