The Tiger Master

Chapter 3: The Rope Swing

Jedediah

“When you grow up Henry, you should be a model.”

I let out a heavy-low sigh, ‘cus we’ve only been here less then five minutes and Penny, the Peterson’s only daughter, is already hittin’ up Henry for his affection.

Henry blushes, all gentleman like. He knows he ain’t gonna be a model. Hell, everyone knows it. I look ’xactly like Henry, so Penny might as well be sayin’ that to me too (But she won’t, ’cus she thinks I’m too stupid for her). 

Me and Henry too goofy lookin’ to be models. But 'parently Penny don’t mind that about Henry.

We’re both standin’ in the Peterson’s kitchen, lookin’ down at our bare muddy feet and tryin’ our best to avoid Penny’s hungry stare. All the other Petersons are out, doing rich people things like goin’ out to eat and shoppin’ for clothes. Penny stayed home to clean the house, her bein’ the one girl out of the four Peterson kids and wantin’ to please her Momma by doin' all the cookin’ and cleanin’ and lady chores.

I notice with all my avoiding of her gaze that the tiles that make up the floor are squeaky clean, smilin’ up at me all white and sparkly. The floors here are nothin’ like the sad dirt ones at our house, the ones you can’t clean ‘cus they are dirt. Penny’s prob’ly mad ’cus Henry and me are dirtying up her clean floors with all our mud and ooze that are stuck to our feet from the farm.

She don’t seem to mind, tho. Prob’ly ’cus Henry’s here. 

“Like your shirt, by the way,” she coos at him. Her arm ropes around his waist, and I catch him flutterin’ away a bit, all nervous. Penny looks like a barn cat that's 'bout to pounce on a mouse.

I want to tell Penny that that’s the same shirt Henry always wears, ain’t no different from any other day. But I know that’ll just earn me the Look. The Look is a special type of angry eyes that only girls can do. It’s great for makin’ a man feel bad.

“Thanks, Penny,” says Henry. He walks over all fidgety towards me, and I suck in a laugh. He can see it on my face, tho. He knows me well ‘nough to pick up on things like that.

“Er…‘nyway,” I say, and Penny rears her head at me with a scornin’ expression. I lower my head, feelin’ embarrassed. “Henry and Lydia and me were wondering if we couldn’t bother you for a try on that rope swing of yours.”

I brought Lydia, my second youngest sister, ’long with us on purpose. Penny likes Lydia. Thinks she’s very cute. Henry and I reckoned that maybe if Penny saw Lydia she’d go even softer than she already was from seein’ Henry, and let us take a turn on her swing.

Sure enough, it works like a charm. Lydia steps out from behind my legs, all shy and quiet-like. Lydia don’t say much, ‘cus she can’t hear others too well. She lost most of her hearing when she was a baby to sickness, and can only hear you if you talk real loud, right in her face. Even tho it ain’t, it makes you feel like you’re doin’ somethin’ wrong, screaming all loud at her like that. I reckon that's why people don't talk to her much. 

Lydia is bigger than Jenny, but she somehow looks even more fragile, like she’s gonna blow away in the wind. Jenny’s sicker than Lydia, but she’s at least sturdy and strong-lookin’, like a kid should be. Lydia’s the opposite. Woman can’t help themselves when they see Lydia. For some reason, they just want to wrap her in their arms and protect her.

Only problem is Lydia don’t like people too much, but we already told her that if she want a turn on the swing she got to do what she say. 

She’s still a bit sour ‘bout that, but she goes willingly to Penny and lets the older girl hug her tight like she some type of rag doll. She sticks her tongue out at us, but Penny doesn’t see.