Stillness of Summer

I Cailean

The man seemed unconcerned when Cailean emerged from the wilted cornfield. From where he sat, he stared at Cailean up and down - from Cailean's unusually brilliant auburn hair, his large leather rucksack (from which dangled a number of charms and other oddities, the jingling noise of which the man must had heard from a mile away) and down to his boots.

After a considerable number of minutes had passed, Cailean took his cap off. "Good day!" he called out, in an earnest attempt to converse with the gentleman outside the farmhouse.

The man frowned.

The Sun was already on its descent, but it did not seem like the heat would be letting up even for the evening. The heat generally put everyone in a foul mood, Cailean had observed, and clearly the gentleman across him was no exception.

Cailean approached and bowed. "I was hoping you good folk could spare a room for a weary traveller, just for the night."

Again, the man gave no reply, but continued to fan himself with a big leaf.

"I won't be any trouble, I swear," said Cailean.

The man rubbed his face. "You can stay in the barn," he said, pointing to the shelter some short distance away. "Now be off."

"Nonsense!" Just then a woman came out of the house. "We have room to spare inside, please, you're welcome to stay," she told Cailean. She shot her husband a glare.

Cailean smiled and bowed again. "Thank you, thank you for your generosity."

Later Cailean was offered dinner with the family, and though the wife had insisted, he respectfully declined, for he knew well that these were difficult times, and food was scarce. They barely had enough as it was, with three more little ones to feed.

Though the hunger caused him a great degree of discomfort, he thought it best to apologize, with all sincerity.

It was not usual for him to witness a family at work, and always he found himself admiring such things. He thought it a luxury to be able to spend a night in a home with one. It comforted him, even though he hadn't realized he had needed comforting then.

One of the children, a girl, reminded Cailean of his youngest sister. Curious, the girl prodded him about her.

"She looks very much like your age, though she is, in truth, very much older. This she loathes most terribly."

"Where is she now?" The girl's eyes were fixated on his long unruly hair. Cailean had not taken the trouble to cut it since he had set out last Winter, and now it was a thick wavy red mess, as was his beard.

Cailean smiled. "She lives in the mountains because she prefers the cold weather there."

"Oh." She turned to Cailean's rucksack and tilted her head to the side. "What's in there?"

"Many many things," Cailean replied cheerfully. "It is a vice of mine - to collect and trade. Tell you what - " He opened the pack and rummaged through its contents.

The girl also peeped inside, and grabbed a white mask. Cailean laughed and said, "Now that one belongs to one of my brothers." Taking it from her, he explained, "He has to wear this mask because his face is utterly hideous! My heart goes out to him; I pity him most immensely." He twisted his face, raised his arms and tried to scare the little girl.

The girl only giggled. "That can't be true," she said, unconvinced.

"Perhaps, yet the truth may be just as horrible." At length he found what he had been searching for: a porcelain doll. He offered to trade it with the girl's blue-gowned doll, for his youngest sister was also a collector, and he knew she would love it, for she loved to gather all things that were lovely blue. Moreover, his sister would need some appeasing the next time they meet.