The schoolhouse of Black Creek was loud, bustling and busy with chatter and laughter of the other kids; little, and tall.
There were more little kids than children my age. The small ones played with toys on the floor or were chasing each other around the schoolhouse.
The wood stove was pumping heat out into the square and not a very large room.
I quickly became what the older kids were talking about as I made my way to sit at one of the benches on the boy's side.
But as soon as I sat down, nearly all the boys rushed over. "You can't sit there." One of them, dark-haired with a French accent told me.
I furrowed my brows. "This is the boy's side, correct?"
They nodded. "But you can't sit in that seat. It's taken." He explained.
I nodded. "Oh, I just hadn't noticed anyone's slate here. I thought it was open. I'm sorry about that."
As I got up, the French boy introduced himself. "Jeremy,"
I shook his hand and gave him a smile. "Do you mind me asking which one of you I nearly stole your seat from?"
They all swallowed. "The bishop boys."
But I didn't have to ask who they were, since they came in from outside and hung their coats in the coat room, then came and sat on their bench.
The bishop boys were blonde with curly hair. They were built solid, meant for farming and heavy work loads. They looked nearly the same age. Possibly only a year or two apart. The bishop boys didn't speak during class. They only wrote on their slates and read their books.
Seemed nearly like a requirement for them to sit together.
And no one dared to speak to them bishop boys.
But many of the little girls would ask them questions quietly during lunch.
One day, one of the girls; a brunette that I had learned was named Amy.
She sat in the empty seat across from Bobby bishop, the eldest looking bishop boy.
That bench had always been empty for my two weeks at my new village of Black Creek.
The air seemed to be sucked out of the room and everyone gasped at it.
Bobby and William glared at the girl as we all did our reading.
Mr. Thatcher told us all to stop clucking like hens and continue to read.
It seemed as if the girl had committed murder, but all she was doing was sitting in the empty bench.
I asked Jeremy in a whisper what the problem was.
He gestured to Bobby and William, two rows ahead of us.
"Their sister always sat on that bench. Last time someone sat on her bench when she wasn't here nearly had their braids ripped out."
I was stunned. "By Bobby?"
He shook his head. "By their siblings. There is Bobby, James, Sawyer, William, and Mary. Then the eldest sister who sat on that bench."
"Why isn't she here?" One of the boys who sat behind us, Leonard, he leaned over to us and whispered. "I heard she was dead."
Then from beside Leonard was David. he leaned over to whisper too. "I heard she was married off just before you came to the village, Thomas. That way the family could have one less mouth to feed." Hm.
