(no subject)
Through cracked eyelid I watched my sister Eisha, pad across the room in her small clothes. She grabbed her woolen stockings, long sleeved heavy cotton shift and indigo blue pinafore from her chair and quickly headed to the fire, poking at the embers until they gave in to her ministrations and the small pieces of kindling stared to burn. I snuggled down further in the covers enjoying the warmth of the bed we shared.
Eisha purposefully headed back to the bed, rudely shoving my shoulder telling me,
"Come on Sarai, no lying about. We've got to move Pasha to the second paddock before papa goes for him."
"Don't worry so Eisha. Papa won't do it. You know how he is." I replied, making a beeline for the chair where my clothes were strewn willy nilly. Dressing hurriedly, I couldn't help comparing my sister and I.
Where Eisha was orderly and pragmatic, I, to my parents dismay, was not. The three I's were how my parents described me. Impulsive. Impractical. Impatient. Where Eisha was the three P's, Practical, Prudent and Polite. We were even opposite in appearance! She's a willowy blonde with grey green eyes and was born graceful. She's also my elder at seventeen years.
I was like a gangly colt with arms and legs I needed to grow into. Reddish brown hair that was not at all manageable, and my eyes brown as a common deer's. By the time I turned seventeen I hoped I'd be as poised and pleasant as my sister, but my fourteen year old self couldn't see that happening. Some days, I could positively whine about how inferior I was! But that's the bit of dramatic in me, my mother used to say.
Eisha, tying her boots, looked up at me and voice quavering said, "I don't want to take the chance Sarai. Papa's likely to have a sore head this morn from too much ale at the pub last night."
Papa didn't really drink and carouse at the pub anymore since mama died. She and my little brother Nikolai, passed three years ago of the typhoid. I thought we were going to lose Eisha too, but she rallied round and recovered. It made me cherish my sister more.
"I understand 'Sha. I know how much you love Pasha. I remember the day papa gave him to you! You were so proud! Riding your own horse! Tell me how I can help."
"Gather the eggs for breakfast and start a rasher of bacon along with them. Make good strong coffee. And make sure there are two slices of bread, with honey too! If he asks why you're cooking and not me, tell him the fence on paddock eight went down. Please."
"Eisha, that's a lot of trouble to go to, maybe you should try reasoning with him?" I said trying to soothe her frayed nerves. "Why not wait until he's halfway finished breakfast? He won't eat until we're all together and he needs a least one cuppa' before he's human anyway. I'll move Pasha if papa gets stubborn and won't see sense."
"Alright we'll try your plan 'Rai, but pray papa was only angry because it was the first time Pasha bit anyone." Eisha said, looking at me with despair. She continued, "But Pasha wouldn't bite unless he was sick or hurt somehow? I don't know, I can't figure out what it is."
"It's alright Eisha. Papa knows how much Pasha means to you. He'll do the right thing. I'm sure of it."
I finished tying my boots. Crossing the floor I gave Eisha a quick hug, and began helping to make our bed, moving in tandem and ease as we went about our task, but my sister's nervousness showed and I missed her humming as we worked.
After tidying our room, I went to gather the eggs and bacon while Eisha brewed the coffee. I brought what I'd gathered in to my sister and went to milk our cows. My father sat at the table when I came in carrying the fresh milk.
There wasn't any of the usual morning banter between my sister and father I noticed and I could feel my sister's nerves. Papa must be nursing a sore head I thought, and that's why he didn't feel Eisha's misery.
Papa finally noticed Eisha's unusual silence, and glancing at me, he winked! before his gravelly voice rose from a parched throat no amount of drink could ease, and spoke.
"Come Eisha, quit your fretting, I'll not be taking Pasha from you. He's not worth the glue makers time. The vet and I had us a chat at the pub last night and he'll be by to check him. That big brute doesn't bite without reason. Told him to bring that young assistant with him too." Papa winked at me again.
I watched the tension pour from my sister's shoulders as she made papa's plate. Dancing a little dance, she brought him his eggs and bacon, setting it before him with a flourish. "Yes papa!! Thank you!!" She replied merrily, kissing the top of his head. Papa chuckled and made short work of his food.
I was left wondering how Eisha could do that little jig and not spill anything at all! Not a crumb! Maybe I'll be graceful like my sister at seventeen, if I'm lucky. But my fourteen year old self couldn't see it happening. That's the bit of dramatic in me as my mother used to say.
Eisha purposefully headed back to the bed, rudely shoving my shoulder telling me,
"Come on Sarai, no lying about. We've got to move Pasha to the second paddock before papa goes for him."
"Don't worry so Eisha. Papa won't do it. You know how he is." I replied, making a beeline for the chair where my clothes were strewn willy nilly. Dressing hurriedly, I couldn't help comparing my sister and I.
Where Eisha was orderly and pragmatic, I, to my parents dismay, was not. The three I's were how my parents described me. Impulsive. Impractical. Impatient. Where Eisha was the three P's, Practical, Prudent and Polite. We were even opposite in appearance! She's a willowy blonde with grey green eyes and was born graceful. She's also my elder at seventeen years.
I was like a gangly colt with arms and legs I needed to grow into. Reddish brown hair that was not at all manageable, and my eyes brown as a common deer's. By the time I turned seventeen I hoped I'd be as poised and pleasant as my sister, but my fourteen year old self couldn't see that happening. Some days, I could positively whine about how inferior I was! But that's the bit of dramatic in me, my mother used to say.
Eisha, tying her boots, looked up at me and voice quavering said, "I don't want to take the chance Sarai. Papa's likely to have a sore head this morn from too much ale at the pub last night."
Papa didn't really drink and carouse at the pub anymore since mama died. She and my little brother Nikolai, passed three years ago of the typhoid. I thought we were going to lose Eisha too, but she rallied round and recovered. It made me cherish my sister more.
"I understand 'Sha. I know how much you love Pasha. I remember the day papa gave him to you! You were so proud! Riding your own horse! Tell me how I can help."
"Gather the eggs for breakfast and start a rasher of bacon along with them. Make good strong coffee. And make sure there are two slices of bread, with honey too! If he asks why you're cooking and not me, tell him the fence on paddock eight went down. Please."
"Eisha, that's a lot of trouble to go to, maybe you should try reasoning with him?" I said trying to soothe her frayed nerves. "Why not wait until he's halfway finished breakfast? He won't eat until we're all together and he needs a least one cuppa' before he's human anyway. I'll move Pasha if papa gets stubborn and won't see sense."
"Alright we'll try your plan 'Rai, but pray papa was only angry because it was the first time Pasha bit anyone." Eisha said, looking at me with despair. She continued, "But Pasha wouldn't bite unless he was sick or hurt somehow? I don't know, I can't figure out what it is."
"It's alright Eisha. Papa knows how much Pasha means to you. He'll do the right thing. I'm sure of it."
I finished tying my boots. Crossing the floor I gave Eisha a quick hug, and began helping to make our bed, moving in tandem and ease as we went about our task, but my sister's nervousness showed and I missed her humming as we worked.
After tidying our room, I went to gather the eggs and bacon while Eisha brewed the coffee. I brought what I'd gathered in to my sister and went to milk our cows. My father sat at the table when I came in carrying the fresh milk.
There wasn't any of the usual morning banter between my sister and father I noticed and I could feel my sister's nerves. Papa must be nursing a sore head I thought, and that's why he didn't feel Eisha's misery.
Papa finally noticed Eisha's unusual silence, and glancing at me, he winked! before his gravelly voice rose from a parched throat no amount of drink could ease, and spoke.
"Come Eisha, quit your fretting, I'll not be taking Pasha from you. He's not worth the glue makers time. The vet and I had us a chat at the pub last night and he'll be by to check him. That big brute doesn't bite without reason. Told him to bring that young assistant with him too." Papa winked at me again.
I watched the tension pour from my sister's shoulders as she made papa's plate. Dancing a little dance, she brought him his eggs and bacon, setting it before him with a flourish. "Yes papa!! Thank you!!" She replied merrily, kissing the top of his head. Papa chuckled and made short work of his food.
I was left wondering how Eisha could do that little jig and not spill anything at all! Not a crumb! Maybe I'll be graceful like my sister at seventeen, if I'm lucky. But my fourteen year old self couldn't see it happening. That's the bit of dramatic in me as my mother used to say.