───── ⋆⋅☂⋅⋆ ─────
Note: So I haven't written a story in a while so I decided to put together something short & sweet. i'll try to make something better soooon enjoyy
───── ⋆⋅☂⋅⋆ ─────
There was a small village up the large hill filled with poppies and around the lake so clear you swear you could see every fish in it. Yes, the town is just there and when you pass the lake you’ll see little stones that’ll bring you to the heart of it. The village was modest, with not too much but also just enough that everyone gets by and no one goes to bed hungry. The sun usually shone from one corner or another, unevenly spreading the small town in dappled sunlight. When it got cold, which it didn’t too often, clouds would gather and bully the poor sun out of the sky.
Sadie was fixing a nice small sweater out of an old sock for her pet guinea pig on one these cold days. She looked up at the sky, as the clouds knit together faster than her hands could with cloth. The blue of the sky was chased out with gray, and Sadie was sure it was going to rain. She thought she should alert her mother- who had previously set out the wet laundry to dry outside- but then remembered she’d gone into the market to buy fruits and vegetables for the coming week. Sadie set down her little needles, and looked over at her guinea pig waiting patiently for its sweater.
“You’re going to have to wait just a bit longer, Henry,” she said, sliding along the grass to where her guinea pig munched on straw.
She brushed a wisp of auburn hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you go inside? You’re going to be cold.”
The guinea pig remained where it was, its small feet planted in the ground. Henry was not going inside. Sadie sighed and sat up, walking over to where her mother had hung up the clothing. The clothes hung high in the sky, and Sadie couldn’t reach up high enough to snatch the clothing down. She thought about going next-door to Danny, her friend and classmate- he was taller than she was-, but then she felt a droplet on her nose. And another on her index finger. And one more yet again on her cheek.
“We’ve gotta get inside, Henry,” she said, scooping up her knitting supplies and hamster in one big sweep just as the rain began to pour as if the heavens were emptying out onto the town. The rain pitter-pattered against the window, scraping at the metal beams. Sadie and Henry watched from the comfort of their little cottage as the rain dampened the previously-dried clothing outside.
“This is bad,” Sadie fretted, pulling at one of her braids. “Mama’s still out.”
Henry squeaked in agreement. Outside, the few people who remained were frantically bringing in children, pets, and various miscellaneous items into their households while the rain beat down on their shoulders. Sadie slipped off of the stool she’d been sitting on, and looked around her house. It was a small cottage, since only her and her mother lived there- and Henry- but it wasn’t too cramped. The walls were made of a medium-toned wood, and the fireplace was surrounded by cobblestone. There was a burgundy couch in the middle of the room, and a long, tan carpet on the floor that Sadie would play on as a toddler. There were various knicknacks around the room- a toy horse, a pair of socks, a little stone frog- which made it feel homely. The whole house was blanketed in the smell of cinnamon and pine needles.
Sadie walked over to the fireplace, picked up two of the striking stones, and attempted to start a fire. Sadie struck the two stones together right on top of the flammable wood until she saw smoke wisping out of a small piece of wood. She carefully took that piece of wood and placed it in some dried moss, blowing on it until it caught fire. She tossed it into the fireplace, and kept stroking it until the flames were crackling and spitting. Her mother had taught her how to do this so that if anything were to happen and she wasn’t there- she could at least keep warm.
Henry skittered over to the fire and laid contentedly on the fire, the black spot at the bottom of his back rising and falling steadily. Sadie laid by the fire next to him, stroking his soft little back and-
The front door swung open. A gust of cold air flew into the cottage along with droplets of rain. Sadie turned abruptly. Henry lifted his head.
“Sadie?” a worn voice called.
“Mama!”
Sadie ran up to her mother, but stopped short of hugging her. She was soaked. Sadie’s mother shut the door behind her and locked it, setting the bags she was carrying on the ground, creating a puddle.
Sadie’s mother shivered. “I should have known…” she murmured, peeling off her shawl. “I should have known it would rain like this.”
She shivered again. Her lips were a little blue and her face looked paler than usual.
“Mama… Are you alright?” Sadie asked.
Her mother shivered. “Just… cold, is all. Very…” She shivered again, leaning against the door. “Cold.”
“Mama, all the clothes outside got wet.”
“Hmm?”
“The clothes, outside.” She pointed out the window. “They got wet.”
“Ah…”
The woman looked out the window at the clothes sagging on the line. “Too bad… I’ll do it again tomorrow.”
“I think…” Sadie started, giving Henry a worried look. “We should see Dr. Whitledge.”
“No, no, I just need to rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, darling. Oh, you’ve started a fire? How nice.”
Sadie’s mother stepped past Sadie and sat down near the fire, her clothes sagging at the weight of the water. Sadie dragged the bags of food across the floor, creating a smear of wetness. She pulled them into the kitchen, and began putting away groceries. Sadie knew that something was wrong. She picked up a neat bunch of carrots. Her mother wasn’t feeling well. Sadie turned the carrots over in her hands. Perhaps…
As Sadie’s mother warmed by the fire, Sadie herself finished putting away the provisions. She then brought a large metal pot up to the counter. Sadie found the stool she often used when she and her mother were cooking shoulder-to-shoulder, and brought it up under the oven. Sadie first took out some chickpeas and let them sit in a wooden bowl of water. Then, the girl brought out carrots, celery, parsley and onions onto a wooden cutting board her mother had been given last year for her birthday. Sadie was very careful with knives, and cut the vegetables precisely. She then maneuvered to the icebox and took out eight strips of beef and chopped them up into bite-sized pieces.
She poured oil into the pot, turning on the oven and waiting for it to sizzle. She then dropped in the onions and the meat. Sadie herself hated onions, but she knew they added flavor to any dish. She pulled a wooden mixing spoon from the cupboard and mixed until it smelled savory and delicious. By this time, Henry was curious, and skittered into the kitchen. Sadie generously tossed him a carrot, which he took and ran with.
The pot, she decided, was now ready for the vegetables, which she slid in, scraping the cutting board to get every last morsel. Preferably, Sadie would’ve liked to have let the chickpeas sit for a few hours, but she didn’t have that kind of time right now. It would do. The girl took some tomatoes and mashed them in another bowl she’d found in the cupboard, and poured those into the soup, rendering it thick. She poured in the chickpeas, mixed a little, then foraged in the icebox for the pre-made stock her mother had bought.
“Sadie?”
“Yes, Mama?”
“What… what are you doing?” she asked in between shivers.
“Just… putting away the food is all,” Sadie fibbed. She didn’t like lying.
“Are you sure…? I smell something, almost, almost like it’s-”
“Nope! Just putting away food!”
Sadie’s mother stopped asking questions after that. Sadie let the soup sizzle over the oven for a little less than 30 minutes, adding spices and seasonings as she went. She also added a bit of parsley on the top to finish it off, then turned off the heat. She brought two bowls- one with a carving of the guinea pig made by Mr. Havner just for her- and one with carvings of a blossom and blueberries. The girl heaved the soup into the two bowls, but there was still a lot left in the pot even after she divided it.
Sadie smiled to herself, and brought the soup out to her mother, setting the bowls down on the small coffee table.
The woman gasped. Her clothes were now dry, but there was still a slight shaking to her teeth.
“Sadie…” she breathed. “Who taught you all this?”
Sadie smiled, her swaying back and forth on her feet. “Well, when you’re off doing stuff, Danny’s dad sometimes teaches me a thing or two…”
The woman pulled Sadie into a tight hug, kissing her cheek.
“Mama-” Sadie gasped, squished in her mother’s linen shirt.
“My twelve-year-old girl,” she started, allowing Sadie to breathe. “Cooked me a soup all on her own.”
Henry squeaked by his place on the carpet, annoyed by the interruption of his slumber. Sadie and her mother tasted the soup, and they both agreed it was good, but was much too hot. Sadie’s mom talked about how she had to haggle the fisher for a trout- which he was selling for 30 shillings!- and Sadie talked about how she was knitting Henry a nice little sweater when the rain started. Sadie finished the sweater and set it on Henry as a blanket while he slept. The two talked and talked in between bites of soup, listening to the sound of Henry’s heavy breathing, the rain on the window, and the crackling of the fireplace.
Credits:
- Image: Loré Pemberton