Immune: Mom #1
Pots clanged against one another, the sharp sounds ringing in Ox's ears. She ignored it, turning another water pot so that she could scrub the bottom. She stared into the swirl of iridescent bubbles, dipping a finger into them before a sly smile stretched across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Beau focused intensely on his notebook, scribbling something here or there every once in a while. With a loud whoop, Ox flung a handful of suds at her older brother's face, giggling madly when he yowled in surprise.
"ROXANNE!!!"
She shrieked with mirth, her cheeks flushing red with joy even as Beau's flushed the same color -- with annoyance. He sputtered, arms flailing, trying to draw words to chastise her, but none came and he simply huffed, returning to his notebook. Ox waited a moment, her breathing wavering with muffled giggles. When it seemed that Beau had forgotten about her, she scooped a heaping pile of bubbles into her palm as nonchalantly as possible, then slid inconspicuously closer.
"Whoops!" she yelped, laughter already threaded through her voice, and one loud THWACK later, she was slapping the bubbles against her brother's face. He screamed again, shrinking away and then rising to his full height to glare down at his smaller, grinning sister.
"Honestly, Rox, what is the matter with you? Can't you see that I'm working??"
Ox shrugged, shaking her head. "Nope." She dove to grab another handful, but Beau was faster -- he tackled her, his hand wrapping around her wrist as they fell to the floor. By now he was also laughing, as his sister's shenanigans were infectiously amusing. They wrestled for a moment, both equally stubborn, until they were interrupted by the door to the cabin swinging open. They froze, looking over and watching as their mother shuffled inside carrying an armful of paper bags filled with groceries.
"Little help?" she grunted, obviously struggling. Beau jumped to his feet and took all of the bags into his own arms, muttering a slightly shameful "hi Ma" to his mother. She smiled gently at him, and from her position on the floor, Ox could tell that their Ma was exhausted. The older woman turned and shut the door, but not before Ox caugh sight of the flag on the porch flapping in the wind. "I see i interrupted some true rough housing, eh?" Their mother asked, her soft, worn eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Ma, have the winds been that bad all day? Beau and I have been cooped up inside and haven't checked the weather."
Their mother tilted her shoulder in a half-assed one armed shrug, averting her eyes as she moved to the table where Beau was emptying the paper bags. "No, no. They were pretty calm until I got to the store."
Ox studied her mother, eyes boring into the other woman's skull. The older woman licked her lips then rubbed her nose. Ox's stomach dropped heavily to her toes. That was her mother's tell. "Mama, are you sure?"
The older woman turned and her entire expression read, 'Drop it. Now.'
Ox dropped her gaze. The winds must have been BAD, if what she had just seen was any indication. There was no chance of her mother being honest about it, which was frustrating. As soon as Beau finished putting everything away, and their mother had retired to the bedroom -- coughing lightly and as quietly as possible into her arm -- Ox snatched her brother's sleeve and dragged him to the front window. She tugged at the edge of the closed curtains, peeking out into the front yard, then turned back to him and said, "I don't think Mama's doing okay."
Beau said nothing, just stared back at her.
"She's been coughing the past couple days. And she keeps lying about the Santa Ana winds. You know they're not supposed to work during the high winds, but they do anyway cause they need the credits." Ox glanced over his shoulder to the closed bedroom door. When she continued, her voice was low and hoarse, "Something is going on. I'm getting worried. What if... what if she's sick, Beau? What if she caught the disease?"
Now, Beau looked down, his eyes fluttering shut and his shoulders slumping. "I've... I've noticed her skin has been changing pallor the past few days. I knew that -- I knew... I just didn't want to think about it."
Ox sighed. "Shit." She pressed her palm to her face. "What are we gonna do?"
"ROXANNE!!!"
She shrieked with mirth, her cheeks flushing red with joy even as Beau's flushed the same color -- with annoyance. He sputtered, arms flailing, trying to draw words to chastise her, but none came and he simply huffed, returning to his notebook. Ox waited a moment, her breathing wavering with muffled giggles. When it seemed that Beau had forgotten about her, she scooped a heaping pile of bubbles into her palm as nonchalantly as possible, then slid inconspicuously closer.
"Whoops!" she yelped, laughter already threaded through her voice, and one loud THWACK later, she was slapping the bubbles against her brother's face. He screamed again, shrinking away and then rising to his full height to glare down at his smaller, grinning sister.
"Honestly, Rox, what is the matter with you? Can't you see that I'm working??"
Ox shrugged, shaking her head. "Nope." She dove to grab another handful, but Beau was faster -- he tackled her, his hand wrapping around her wrist as they fell to the floor. By now he was also laughing, as his sister's shenanigans were infectiously amusing. They wrestled for a moment, both equally stubborn, until they were interrupted by the door to the cabin swinging open. They froze, looking over and watching as their mother shuffled inside carrying an armful of paper bags filled with groceries.
"Little help?" she grunted, obviously struggling. Beau jumped to his feet and took all of the bags into his own arms, muttering a slightly shameful "hi Ma" to his mother. She smiled gently at him, and from her position on the floor, Ox could tell that their Ma was exhausted. The older woman turned and shut the door, but not before Ox caugh sight of the flag on the porch flapping in the wind. "I see i interrupted some true rough housing, eh?" Their mother asked, her soft, worn eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Ma, have the winds been that bad all day? Beau and I have been cooped up inside and haven't checked the weather."
Their mother tilted her shoulder in a half-assed one armed shrug, averting her eyes as she moved to the table where Beau was emptying the paper bags. "No, no. They were pretty calm until I got to the store."
Ox studied her mother, eyes boring into the other woman's skull. The older woman licked her lips then rubbed her nose. Ox's stomach dropped heavily to her toes. That was her mother's tell. "Mama, are you sure?"
The older woman turned and her entire expression read, 'Drop it. Now.'
Ox dropped her gaze. The winds must have been BAD, if what she had just seen was any indication. There was no chance of her mother being honest about it, which was frustrating. As soon as Beau finished putting everything away, and their mother had retired to the bedroom -- coughing lightly and as quietly as possible into her arm -- Ox snatched her brother's sleeve and dragged him to the front window. She tugged at the edge of the closed curtains, peeking out into the front yard, then turned back to him and said, "I don't think Mama's doing okay."
Beau said nothing, just stared back at her.
"She's been coughing the past couple days. And she keeps lying about the Santa Ana winds. You know they're not supposed to work during the high winds, but they do anyway cause they need the credits." Ox glanced over his shoulder to the closed bedroom door. When she continued, her voice was low and hoarse, "Something is going on. I'm getting worried. What if... what if she's sick, Beau? What if she caught the disease?"
Now, Beau looked down, his eyes fluttering shut and his shoulders slumping. "I've... I've noticed her skin has been changing pallor the past few days. I knew that -- I knew... I just didn't want to think about it."
Ox sighed. "Shit." She pressed her palm to her face. "What are we gonna do?"