Short Stories - 8 In The Morning

Lamb

      I woke up to the rustling of my father's backpack as he swung it over his shoulder and the baa-ing of the lambs wishing him goodbye as he began his trek through the mountain. "Mina", my mother whispered as she swept the hair from my face. I groggily sat up and wiped my tired eyes as I looked out the window and caught a glimpse of my father's beige pack as he turned behind the rocks. "Come eat", said my mother as she sat the eggs and bread down on the table. I stumbled, still half asleep, to the chair. Our home was a tiny log cabin so small that we had one room, it consisted of our out-of-date kitchen, a creaky bed, and a black and white television. The restroom was a small outhouse connected at the back of the building. My mother put her plain-white plate down on the table and sat across from me, her black hair shined in the morning light that streamed through the cabin windows and cast a shadow on her high cheek bones and coco colored skin. I was practically her twin, my hair as dark as hers, our eyes the same gemstone green and our petite figure were the same. We finished our meal in silence and I watched her hand-crafted, lavender dress flutter as she slipped on her sandals and beckoned me to follow with her hand. I stood to wipe the crumbs from my shorts and slid on my worn sneakers to follow after her. I stood in front of our door and gazed at the steep valley that lay below our mountain home, feeling the cool fall breeze as the sun grew behind the distant mountains. I turned and scampered after my mother as she opened the gate to the sheep pen to let them loose, I grabbed the bag of corn and shoved through the flock to pour it in the feed bucket. I ran to stand by my mother as she collected eggs from the coop and gently placed them in the straw basket, I watched the sheep push and shove but I realized a lamb was missing "Where is Blue?" I asked my mother as she turned to scan the colored ribbons on the sheep's necks. "Your father took it to the village" I frowned, "I want to go with him." This daily routine proceeded until my father returned and before I knew it, it was time for him to take a lamb to the village again. "I want to come!" I demanded as my father packed his bag and put on his shoes, "It's too cold, I'll be back soon." He said as he planted a kiss on my forehead, "Trust me", at that moment I thought I saw a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes but perhaps it was my imagination, he shut the door. I hurriedly stuffed a small quilt under my arm, grabbed the remnants of breakfast from the table, a canteen filled with water, what was left of the cookies and a carrot that I stuffed in a string bag. I slipped on my shoes and snuck out of the door to follow him. "Mina? What are you doing?" My mother's stern voice stunned me as she looked up from the crude book in her hand. I froze, my heart was racing and my feet were like clay bricks until a gust of frozen wind snapped me out of it. I started sprinting for the uphill path, I heard the rocking chair that she was sitting on creek as she stood to catch me but I didn't look back. I heard her sandals slapping the ground behind me but her grey hairs failed her as the footsteps ceased. I reached the rock that my father had disappeared behind and hid behind it to look at my mother on her knees with her hands covering her face.
     Now the ground was streaked with orange and shadows remained still on the tree-less mountain path. I hadn't caught up with my father yet but every now and then a baa would echo back to me. I sped up my pace on the barren mountain so that I could get close enough to my father without him seeing me and if I was lucky the lamb would wake me up when he left so I won't fall behind. As I reached the top of a slope I saw my father's graying head, I stopped and stood on my toes to see that he was starting a fire and saw that he had tied the lamb's rope to his pack that he leaned against the mountain's side. This trail was a thin stretch of rock, carved out of the side of the mountain so as I lay on-top of the coat my mother made for me I gazed out at the crumbled edge of the trail that lay beyond my quilt, feeling the freezing winter breeze as the sun retreated behind the jagged peaks.
     Baa-ing filled my ears as I blinked and something tickled my face, it was the lamb. The brown rope was missing from the green ribbon around its neck. I jolted to my feet and let out a sigh of relief as I heard my father's snoring, I snatched up the carrot I had in my bag and tempted it to follow me up the slope. I sat on my knees and tied the end of the rope to its ribbon, I left the rest of the carrot and when I turned to get up his blue eyes bore into mine "Mina? What are you do-" his rising voice was cut off by a howl. My head snapped to behind me, it's fangs flashed in the rising sun and it's vibrant blue eyes looked identical to my father's. The lamb bucked and thrashed, I looked back at the wolf and saw a glimmer of anticipation in it's eyes as it lunged for it's prey. My dad picked up a stick from the burnt out fire and tried to move in for the lamb but the wolf was too fast and ignored him, and took off down the trail. All that was left is the green ribbon in front of my feet, I bent down to pick it up but just as my finger grazed it a strong breeze blew it up and I watched it disappear over the cliff. My father's face was beet red "Get back to your mother, now!" But we just saw a wolf, there could be more. Did he not care? I had faith in myself that I could make it back by myself so I gathered my stuff and headed home. "Well I blew that." I mumbled to myself but I was missing my mother, as I had never been away from her this long. I'll have to be more careful next time. A smile came across my face as I came upon the pile of rocks in front of our house, my face was frozen in fear. Hot tears ran down my face as my mother's hand-made lavender dress disappeared over the cliff and her sandals slipped off of the last land it would stand. "Why,why,why!" I cried out as I beat my hand on the cursed cliff of our mountain home. Eventually I fell asleep in the mist of my tears and the next morning I pulled myself together long enough to tie a rope around a purple ribbon. I led the lamb up the path and settled at the remains of my father's fire. A void appeared in front of me "Hello?" I called out suddenly my father's blue eyes shone through the darkness. But I realized that it was actually the wolf's eyes. The same anticipation in its eyes as it lunged for the gemstone green eyes of the lamb but as it became clearer in the darkness it's figure formed the one of my mother kneeling on the ground. The wolf was my father. I woke in a cold sweat to the stars unaffected by my trauma. I gazed at the midnight sky, no matter what happens the stars aren't any duller, the sun rise not as vibrant, and the lamb no less pure.
     The next morning I was exhausted from lack of food and water, when I put the pack over my shoulders and led the lamb up the path my body screamed to stop. At this point I was fueled by anger "He did it, he did it." I mumbled to power through the rest of the hike. It was sunset when I reached the peak, it was more of a flat field filled with huts. I hid behind the rocks and stared at the architecture in awe. I had never seen so many people, they were all crowded at the entrance for some kind of festival. A man stepped from the crowed with a woman in one arm and a child in the other. All reason left, my world was spinning. It was my father. What can I do now? I left the lamb tied on the roots, the lamb with one vibrant blue and one gemstone green eye.