The Handle of the Knife

Curse Words

I am shaken violently awake by my dad. "Good morning sixteen and day year old"

"What the heck?" I respond as he gives me a wooden bowl. "What's with the wooden bowl?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Now out! You're not getting any younger and the wheat doesn't plow itself" I step out of bed right into some dog crud.

"You've got to be kidding me" I whisper to myself. I exit the house hopping on one foot as I wipe the poop off of my foot onto some grass. I come back in with a shovel and scoop up Bron's present to me. Where is the no good dog anyway? As that thought came to my head am finding it really hard to be mad a golden fluff ball who doesn't seem to care about anything but is always giving unending love. I pick up the wooden bowl my dad left. Freshly carved and....it looks like it's got Bron's name carved into it. Ahhh a water dish of course. I get dressed and put on my shoes, that just barely fit me. I grab a couple buckets and find Bron patiently waiting for me at the back door. How nice. I leave the house and head off into town to gather some water.

Devin is already whacking away at his newly made horseshoes. Jon is sitting out next to the chapel and preaching. Ever since the Act of 1779 all books, pencils and any form of writing has been banned in the New World. We also now are forced to follow the Book of Grace. I've never really paid any attention during the church lessons. The town's dirt roads are heavy with horse prints. The cavalry must have already came through this morning. My town is a very small and very straightforward looking town. You enter and there is a wooden gate. There is a main road that leads all the way up to the Mayor's two story house. On one side there the blacksmith and the other has the chapel. In the middle of the road, halfway to the mayor's house, is a small well. I run up to the brick well in the middle of the dirt road. The rope is a little worn, but it will do it always does. I hook one of my two buckets into the rope and slowly let it run down.

Born runs around greeting everybody in the town. He runs over to pastor Jon and the kids he is preaching to. He is talking to the blacksmith's orphan boy that he took in a while back. The sheep farmers two kids, and of course Jon's son (the oldest next to me) Jeremy. I don't know the children of Bristolville too well. All they seem to do is mosey around, but Jeremy does sometimes help me pick apples. I hear the resounding "spelunk" of the bucket hitting the water. I drop the rope down a bit more and then pull back up. I take a few sips from the bucket and set the next one down. I don't dare say any curse words around the pastor or he'll have a lot more than just my hide. I pull the second one out of the well. I whistle and call Bron to me. He bounds towards and jumps on top of me. I fling the buckets into the air and get soaked. "Dratted dog!" I whisper to him. I catch on of the buckets, but the other one isn't so lucky. "Great, look at was you did Bron, you broke the fri—" I am stopped short by Pastor Jon whacking me swiftly on the back.

"You've got a lot more than a bucket to worry about now, William Rogers!" Jon breath beats against the back of my neck as he thunders above me. "Face me, boy." I slowly turn around, my face red and my back still stinging. "You will respond with a 'Yes sir' when addressed."

I rub my hands together as the sweat is wetting my palms. My brain seems unfocused and my head is dripping water. "Yes, sir?" I reluctantly obey him. The last time I cursed in front of Jon I got several beatings, and I went four days only a single cup of water and no food. I also became his "slave" for a week after that. I still have scars from that incident. Out of nowhere a giant slobbery tongue comes rocketing towards Jon. He becomes off balance and almost falls. I can't help but laugh. His face becomes of a demon. He is about to slam Bron into the nearest wall and make sure he never comes out. "RUN Bron, Come here!" I scream, now the entire town is watching the scene that I made. Even one of the Mayor's guard is amused. I take my chance and turn around. And I run. I run faster than I've ever run before. Bron is just in front of me and he is barking like it's any other day. The cold spring breeze paints my path for victory. The dirt road beckons me to never stop. The trees seem to enclose around me guiding me, directing me. At last, I reach home. Caring half of a bucket in one hand, and a working one in the other. My dad steps out, and I realize I have no water with me and no explanation. I am beginning to weigh which punishment would've been worse the pastor's or my dad's...