The Seam Sorceress

Mr. Tubbington the Third, part 2.

The susurrus of insects swelled, punctuated by the swat of Booger's bovine tail as she defended her backside from a fog of flies. "Reckon we oughta go after her?"

"Not yet." Tilly picked up the fallen side rail again and propped it against the remnants of the wagon. "Sprout's just being overly dramatic. She'll cry it out then be back to her old self."

"Seemed mighty upset for somebody just being dramatic," Booger said.

"She ain't the only one that's upset." Circling around, Tilly sank onto the cracked seat of the wagon. "Can't believe I was fool enough to let her talk me into even trying. Sprout's just a kid, but I shoulda had the good sense to know it was a bad idea."

Booger hoofed over to Tilly and nuzzled the side of her face, still mindful of her bee-stung snout. "You just wanted the prize money as much as she wanted to win."

"That don't make it better. With the wagon gone, we can't even enter one of the smaller pumpkins now." Tilly's chin rested in her hands as she stared glumly at reins laying discarded in the dirt. "Worst of all, I told Sprout I'd come up with some other way to get the money, and right now I'm all out of ideas."

"You just need time."

"I don't got forever. Mama's getting worse by the day. Soon even magic's not gonna get her out of bed," Tilly said. "This is all my fault."

"Hush your mouth." The ox licked her from chin to forehead, her tongue like sticky sandpaper. "Like you told Sprout, you don't gotta carry the weight of the blame all by yourself."

"Now why'd you gotta go and do that." Tilly sputtered into a giggle and brought a sleeve up to her cheek. As she wiped off the viscous coat of saliva, the echoes of her laughter giving away to the chirp of crickets and the whippoorwill, something in Booger's words resonated with her. She grinned and threw her arms around the ox's head in a hug. "That's it. I do gotta carry it by myself."

"Well, you don't gotta be so happy about it," Booger wheezed out, near-choked by Tilly's overpowering grip. She took a deep breath as she was finally released, confusion deepening as the girl took off for the house. "Where you going in such a hurry?"

Tilly turned mid-stride, running, skipping, hopping backwards through the tall grass. "I gotta tell Mama I'm leaving."

"Oh." The ox started after her. "Well, dunno where you're going but Imma come too."

"If you wanna, but fair warning—it's gonna be a long night." Tilly climbed the back porch steps. By the time she opened the screen door, a spotted dog had caught up to her. Together, they stampeded into the warm light of the kitchen.

Mama's hand dropped from the pump. She clung tight to the porcelain lip of the sink, catching her breath. "Gracious, you scared the dumplings out of me."

"Dumplings sound pretty good right now," Booger muttered.

"Shush." Tilly nudged the dog with her foot before smiling to her mother. "I'm sure whatever's on for supper is just fine, Mama. Sprout already done?"

"Mmhm. Ate, washed up, and upstairs asleep in record time." Mama grunted as she started to resumed working the pump. "Little unusual for her, don't y'all think?"

Tilly stood stock still, pinned in place by guilt. "Uh."

"She's just excited about the fair tomorrow." Booger padded underneath the kitchen table and curled up in her usual spot, awaiting leftovers.

"That's probably it." The spigot finally released a single jet of well water, splashing the dirty dishes. Mama sighed in relief. "I know she gets awfully competitive with that poor old widower what's-his-name."