1 Sweet Home

The afternoon was plagued by strong gusts of wind. Doors and windows left ajar banged against each other causing polished glass to shake and rattle within the wooden frame that held them in place through seasons.

By the well, Gladys and Carol gathered water in wooden buckets. In an effort to combat her boredom, Gladys eyed her sister from behind and decided to shove her down the muddy earth. She laughed at Carol who screamed her lungs out in shock. The buckets Carol had tediously filled with water flew over their heads and landed by the pigsty causing a ruckus. Annoyed, her brows furrowed as she sat listening to a seemingly endless cacophony of snorts and cackles. She sighed, letting a moment pass before deciding to pick herself up.

"That's the second time today Gladys! I've almost had it with you." she said, heavily patting away at the dirt on her skirt.

Gladys brushed it off with a devious smile.

"Now, now, don't be so cross with me. We're only having a little fun!" replied Gladys.

Carol rolled her eyes and sighed. She was more annoyed than amused but growing up together in the countryside, she was used to her antics.

"Fun for you, mabye. You're not the one falling over every time you hold a bucket or two." Carol uttered as she pulled the buckets off the fence and made her way back to the well. She wiped the sweat from her forehead in one motion.

"My life is already hard enough, thank you. I don't need a mangey old witch shoving me everywhere I go and gluing the pages of my books with strawberry jam."

Gladys, reminded of the mischief she caused last week, laughed even harder. Carol gave up and chuckled under her breath decided to resume to her chores. She threw the wooden buckets into the old well and its walls soon echoed with the sound of splashing water sending the sparrows on the clay roof flying off into the horizon.

Gladys managed to catch her breath and said, "You have the humor of a mushroom Carol."

"And you have a silly way of having fun."

Gladys sat on the bench with a thump and wiped at the tears that began falling from her eyes. Suddenly, Carol threw a chunk of mud at her. Seeing Glady's reaction, she finally burst into laughter.

"Look at me! Now I'm almost as messy as you." Gladys retorted.

Carol cleared her throat and said, "Serves you right."

"Do you know what refined women like most in London, Gladys?"

"Do tell."

Carol breathed in the fresh earth and sat beside her fixing her golden locks into a bun.

"Mud facials and mud baths, surprisingly. There's an abundance of mud here, I don't know why we hate it so much." she said.

"Why, with all that dirt on you, I'd say, I made quite the London woman out of you Carol."

Gladys took her hat from the bench and went into a graceful curtsy.

She put on her best comical impression of a man and said, "Good day, madame. I am the duke of the royal pigsty and never in my life have I seen a woman more sophisticated than you."

Carol laughed hysterically at her sister's performance.

Gladys, who never failed to stay in character, continued, "I insist that you come to my palace this instant and together we shall force total domination upon all of the pigs across England, starting with your mother!"

Carol laughed even harder. At this, she decided to play the part so she picked up her skirt and spun around before gracefully offering her hand.

"Why thank you, sir. Then I shall take you up on your kind offer." she responded in the most lady-like manner.

They burst into laughter once more and they soon found themselves splashing each other with water. For a moment, the world was a playground again and the chore their mother had so kindly requested of them remained forgotten.

Evan, the eldest, quietly watched the events of the day unfold in the distance. He was a sensible young man but not as sensible as his sister Carol. He spent the afternoon writing love letters on sheets of paper for the young lady next door he could never muster enough courage to approach. Suddenly, Thomas jumped off from the willow tree where he spent his time hanging around in.

"Bloody hell, Thomas!"

Thomas was passing the afternoon away on a tree branch above him this whole time but he was too engrossed on his writing that he failed to notice him completely. He frantically picked up the scattered sheets of paper and shoved them into his journal trying to keep them out of sight.

"Writing another love letter Evan?" asked Thomas.

"What are you talking about?"

Before he could say another word, Thomas quickly snatched the letter from his hands and started reading it aloud.

"Dear Bernadeth Posy" Thomas began.

His voice, trailing off as he walked around the old willow tree and into the meadow. His pace, gradually turning into a sprint.

Evan chased after him but Thomas already made distance.

"Stop it now, Thomas!" he begged.

"...and I cannot bear to go a day without a glimpse from your magnificent green eyes... Charming." said Thomas, giving Evan a sly grin.

"That's not for children, Thomas!"

Thomas looked at him once more only to resume to his reading. This time, he read the words loud enough that the neighbor next door could hear it. Finally, he reached the end of the letter.

"...and I shall whisk you off of your feet for the rest of our lives." he said, finally pausing on his tracks, not saying another word.

"What?" said Evan, annoyed and secretly alarmed at his reaction.

He waited but received no answer from him. Embarrassed, Evan took the chance to grab the letter and shoved it along with the rest of the papers between the pages of his journal.

"You should stick your nose somewhere else, Thomas. This isn't something a boy your age be meddling with." he said and began heading back to the willow tree.

"You're quite the poet Evan. You should send it to her. She might like it."

Evan sighed and, in hopes of ending the conversation, asked, "And what does a fifteen year old boy like you know about love letters?"

"I'm just saying. I'm only six years younger than you, you know." he replied with a wink.

He then began heading towards the meadow where his dog Berns was patiently waiting for him.

For a moment, he paused in hesitation and asked, "So when will it be?"

Evan dreaded this question. He knew what he meant. His stomach churned as he was reminded of the love letters he'd written over the past three months still locked away in his bedroom drawer, untouched and lost among the pile of bills and grocery lists seemingly forgotten in time.

"When will what be?" Evan replied, fumbling with the papers on his hands.

"When will you finally send it to her?"

His question was met with nothing but silence. So he decided to finally retreat to the meadow and play a game of catch.

Later in the evening, the winds died down and the stars settled in the night sky. The siblings had finished their chores and decided to hang around the bonfire. They did so, very often, and they enjoy it immensely. Like every other evening, Thomas played melodies, old and new, with his harmonica.

The sound of the instrument echoing through the night could guide drifters in the woods back to the safety of civilization. At one point in his young life, he was declared by the townspeople as 'The Guide'. People have lost their way in the woods but the sound of his music never fail to bring them back.

For many years, the woods claimed lives and was rumored to drive people insane. It was deemed haunted by the townspeople; tales of bandits, murderers, and children lost in the woods lured by an evil entity, never to be seen again. For many, it was nothing but a tale. But to some, the nightmare was too real.

Not too long ago, a young lady found herself lost in the woods. Darkness engulfed every corner and every path and the moonlight only did so much but cast awkward shadows under a thousand willow trees. With every call for help, she was met with nothing but the eerie sound of her echo snatched away by the howling wind. The evening sky got darker by the minute.

Her footsteps treaded on age old roots as she passed through thorny bushes of wild berries. Whenever she stumbled upon a stone she picked it up and laid it behind her, making a trail as she goes.

"Stupid girl! I shouldn't have come here at all." she muttered in anger and frustration.

Exhausted, she gripped the tail of her dress and rested on a log. A stream of tears fell down as she gently rubbed on her sore, injured feet. In silence, her eyes darted at every corner hoping to find any sign of human life.

She waited...

There was the cold wind howling through the trees breathing into her nostrils and into her cold lungs sending shivers through her spine.

And she waited some more...

Crickets sang through the night and owls perching on branches hooted back in response. Then there was the deafening silence of the woods. Realizing her impending doom, her knees shook and gave in, meeting the damp earth below her, defeated.

Suddenly, she jerked back to the sound of rustling in front of her. Her eyes lit up in horror as the silhouette of a masked man with a knife gradually took form in the darkness. She stood up, ready to make a run for it.

"M'lady, I have been looking all over for you!" said the man, his voice, deep and muffled under his mask.

He began to take off his mask but before he could say another word, the young lady ran for her life going deeper into the woods.

"Wait!"

She screamed in horror as she ran through thorny bushes that snatched bits of her dress and left her with patches of wounds that soon began to swell with blood.

After what seemed like an eternity, her legs finally gave in and she fell into a steep slope. For a moment, she lay there motionless as she landed on the bottom. She let out a sob.

"Help me! Anyobody, please!" she yelled once more into the darkness.

But there was only her echo and the sound of her cries disappearing into the emptiness of the woods. Her vision began to blur, the events of the day weighing on her. She closed her eyes and weeped.

Once again, she waited...

After what seemed like an eternity, she awoke to the sound of music in the distance. She opened her eyes, listening carefully, deciding what is and what isn't there. Her heart burned with hope! It was a familiar tune. A tune men and women danced to as they drank liquor around the bonfire.

She felt alive! She picked herself up, gritting her teeth, and began heading to the source of the music. Her pace, gradually quickened as the music seemed closer and louder. Soon, she was running again.

"Help! Somebody help me!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Please don't stop! Please don't stop!" she muttered to herself repeatedly as she ran.

Finally, she reached the edge of the woods. She stood in silence, observing her surroundings. No more trees and thorny bushes embracing her. She let out a heavy sob, realizing that she had made it out alive. Her eyes darted to a figure under a willow tree not too far from where she stood.

There, was Thomas, now playing a different tune with his harmonica. She called out to him and ran his direction as fast as she can. Upon noticing, Thomas stood up, confused and surprised. Finally, she was face to face with the boy who unknowingly saved her life.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him without hesitation. A stream of tears fell down her cheeks. Sobbing in relief, her knees soon shook from the exhaustion and fear she felt from the danger that now seemed so distant as she has finally found safety in the arms of a stranger.

The woman was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. Her story reached every villager in town. Since then, theyall gathered resources deeper into the woods more often without the fear of losing their way. For when one does get lost all he had to do was to wait and listen for the sound of music to guide him back home. Since then, Thomas and his music became a beacon of light for the townspeople.

By the fire, the siblings were engrossed in conversation. Gladys fumbled with Carol's hair and turned them into braided locks decorating them with wild poppies she picked up from the meadow. A comfortable silence fell upon them as they watched the burning embers glow in the night, pulsing like a heartbeat growing stronger with every gentle gust of wind that came and weakened as it passed them by.

For a moment, a look of confusion fell on Gladys's face as the thought of Mrs. Baker crossed her mind.

She said to them, "Have you all noticed Mrs. Baker's strange behavior lately?".

"What do you mean?" Carol said, intrigued.

"Well..." Gladys began, leaning in, making sure to keep her voice down to a hush.

"The other night, I went into the bathroom late in the evening and I heard Mrs. Baker calling out to Oliver in the woods."

Her eyes lit up like bright stars the way they would when she's caught in the pages of a mystery book.

She continued, "I looked outside through the bathroom window and just like the last time, his bedroom lights were on. I saw him on his desk probably working on something."

The siblings looked at each other in curiousity.

"She has been going into the woods lately. She's never done that before. What do you suppose she's been up to?" declared Carol.

She picked up a seed from the bunch she had lying on her lap and popped it into her mouth.

"Maybe... she didn't know he was home?" said Thomas.

"Unlikely. How can a mother her age not know about her only son's whereabouts in the middle of the night?" said Evan and they all nodded in agreement.

"Or maybe..." Gladys began.

"Mrs. Baker has a secret lover? Perhaps, in the woods somewhere?"

Before she could utter another word, Carol nudged her hard in the waist. Her brows furrowed as she screamed and winced from the pain.

"Shush, Gladys! We don't want anyone to hear us now, do we?"

Evan chuckled and said, "That's right Gladys! The last time we got into trouble for your gossiping, mom and dad made us bake for the Petersons. And you can call me a liar, but I swear I remember you adding the nuts they happen to be allergic to into the pie."

Evan mimicked the way chefs sprinkle salt on their dish, putting a wide grin on their faces. The evening was once again alive with chatter and laughter.

"Mom and dad almost sent us to the looney bin!" he added.

"But I didn't add the nuts! At least, not intentionally..." said Gladys in her defense.

She set her eyes on Stevie who was munching on a piece of bread.

"They must have fallen in when Stevie here knocked the jar off the table."

Upon hearing this, Stevie gave her the tongue and she responded right back. Gladys raised her hands defensively.

"It was an accident, I swear!" she declared.

"Your life is full of accidents, Gladys." said Evan.

"No, her life is an accident, Evan." whispered homas.

Gladys gasped and said, "I heard that!"

Gladys stomped her way to him and harshly ran her fingers over his hair. Thomas laughed and begged for her to stop until she finally gave in and sat beside him against the willow tree.

"Oh, an accident. You mean like the last time when you accidentally sneaked out through the kitchen window and went to a tea party at Georgia's? And that was after getting grounded for misbehavior." said Carol, grinning.

"Well, you lot can laugh all you want but I'll have you know that I don't have any regrets. Not one." Gladys declared.

She smiled and crossed her arms over her head and relaxed her back against the trunk of the old willow tree. The chatter and laughter went on as they patiently waited for the embers to finally die out.

A conversation took place on the porch. Father strummed on his guitar. Every note, echoed into the hollows underneath the wooden platform of the porch, freeing old dust stuck in between the crevices. Mother breathed in the cold evening air as they laughed and joked about.

"You know, Evan once told me he's taken an interest in medicine." said Helen.

Father chuckled, not taking his eyes off the strings as he continued to strum a tune.

"Well, he'll have to deal with him first. There's an awful lot of women back in London, darling. And an awful lot of them go to see the 'handsome doctor' more often than we do our grocery shopping."

She rolled her eyes at him, amused.

"Has he sent her the letters at all?"

He shook his head, his eyes, giving her a look of pity.

"Poor child. Will he ever find it in him?"

Worry suddenly fell over mother's face. For a moment, she stared into the distance. Her arms, close to her chest.

A painful silence fell over them. Father opened his mouth to speak but hesitated for a moment carefully choosing his words.

"Helen, darling." he called out.

"If you trust in her as much as you trust in your heart, then we shall go through with this arrangement. Who knows? Maybe living in London will help him find his courage."

He gave her a reassuring smile. She chuckled under her breath. His words lifted away her worries.

He strummed another key on his guitar. His voice, now acompanying the melody as they watch the children in the distance put out the embers and make their way to the house with stomachs rumbling, all ready for supper.