Family

Chapter 1

Me and Mack feed and groom the horses as we do e'eryday. Finish our chores exactly like Pa want it. Spray water along their backs to wash off the dirt, pick the dirt out of the hooves. Stroke the brush with the flow of the manes. Then, braid it carefully as if it would be judged in an art gallery. It would be judged. But not in those fancy places I see in magazines. Sculptures so real they look like they could breathe. Paintings so life like a quick glance will make 'em seem like they moving. The pictures alway so extraordinary you could walk into it and live a different life. Pa alway say Ma could submit her photos to a place like that. "She real good." But she deny it. Ma ne'er believe she good at nothin. Always telling Pa to stop lying to her. "Ya good at a lot of thing, Margret, dear."

"Oh, Alex, no need to make me blush."

"I only making you blush 'cause ya know it true."

"But it ain't."

"Ya alway say it ain't. Why can't ya accept you good at-" Ma ne'er let him finish that sentence. She just stand up and walk out e'erytime. I wish Pa would tell me I'm good at something, instead he just tell me what I do wrong. E'er since I could remember I have done the same chores e'eryday, and I ne'er get it all right. Or when I do Pa don't say nothin, just look and walk out. Mack get sad when Pa tell him to start something again, but he don't complain to his face, he know better than that. Once our younger brother, Sam, complained, and he was shut in the small room near our sleeping area. We couldn't talk to him for a few days until he told Pa he will do better next time and won't complain. "Damn straight," Pa told him as he let him out.

Once me and Mack finish with the horses, we let 'em out the barn. They run 'round the field with the barb-wire fence 'round it. I stand against the fence, my hands clench tight 'round the top wire by my chest. My dress, with flowers and the white collar, wrap 'round my body. It my favorite outfit. The sleeves only reach my elbows, which is good for working. I watch, with my head tilted to the left, as the white mare roams the open space. There are grooves and bumps in the ground. Forcing the horse to move up and down as much as she move forward. Chance don't see I watching her. Or she does and ignore me. It don't bother me, I just like watching her be. Ma come up behind me, "Annie, did ya hear me?"

"Oh no, Ma, I didn't. What did ya say?"

"I said dinner ready. Time to come inside, e'eryone waiting for ya."

I go inside with her and see Mack heard her the first time she called. He sit in his seat, like the others, hands folded at the edge of the table. Keeping 'emselves from taking food before e'eryone is there. Pa is the last one to arrive to the table. Today he had to go to the market to sell some of our harvest. Until he come we mus' sit quietly at the table or Ma will tell Pa we misbehaved. Ma alway rats us out when she can. Sometimes I don't think she like us very much.

The front door open and close and Pa's heavy bootstomps walk his way to the bench down the hall. He alway take his shoes off there. Then, he walk to the dining room to join us. But before he sit he stand in the doorway looking at us. "I want another one Margret."

"Are ya sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! It's not complete." Us children look at each other. Confused to what they talkin 'bout. But we too afraid to ask anything 'bout it either. We would rather sit with confusion than speak up to Pa.

"Okay, well we'll need to prepare for it." They talking about another horse? If so Megan will need to step up to help the horses. It's hard enough on me and Mack with the three horses we have right now.

Pa sit at the head of the table as he do e'ery night. We wait for him to fill his plate, take a bite and tell Ma it delicious as alway. Then we can fill our own plates. Passing bowls 'round to each other. Ma helping Claire with her plate as she too young to pour anything herself. She only four. Soon Ma teach her to read. We all learn at four. Me first, then Mack, then Megan, Sam, and now Claire. Each one of us got a turn with the bookshelf. Now I must read cookbooks and magazines. "That what young women mus' read, Annie," Ma tell me after I asked for a new novel. Mack read books 'bout history and being a farmer. Megan and Sam still read fairy tales. I want fairy tales. I read all the cookbooks we got. Memorized each recipe. When Ma forget something she ask me. Maybe she just testing me to see if I remember. "You need to cook good to be a good mother, Annie." She help me to be a good woman. But I still wanna read about the princesses. Megan and Sam act out some of the novels they read while me and Mack work in the barn. We use to play together, but Pa don't let us no more.

"We need help 'round the house," he say. "No time for play when you got horses to feed." Me and Mack don't argue with him. Just do as he say.

Megan and Sam laugh at each other at the dinner table. They too young to understand table behavior. Ma yell at 'em e'ery night. And e'ery night they don't learn. Tonight I whisper to Megan to be quiet. "You don't want Pa see ya acting this way at the table. He don't like it." She turned to Sam with raise eyebrows and a pouty lip. Sam know that mean they were not being good. Megan alway watch out for Sam, like Me and Mack watch for each other and the other three.

"After dinner y'all go to bed," Pa say to us.

"Why so early," Ma asked him.

"We need to talk 'bout our plan, Margret." We don't say nothin. Inside we wish we didn't have to miss our book hour. It the only time we get to read what Ma give us. It the only time I can think I smart, e'en if Pa say otherwise. Last night I read 'bout a wife and how she keep her house clean with four children. It an article in my favorite magazine, because it the only one filled with what feel like fairy tales. Happy people e'erywhere. I skip the sad stories. The five o' us sit there quietly eating while Pa and Ma speak across the table. It sound like a secret, what they saying. I'm confused during it. They talk like this e'ery dinner. Sometime Megan ask me what they talk 'bout when we get downstair. A few nights ago I told her I ne'er know what they say, but she shouldn't worry 'bout it. Howe'er, tonight I know a little. Ma keep asking questions about his comment earlier. He keep telling her "not now".

"I just wanna know what your plan."

"That what we need to talk 'bout later."

"Fine." The conversation end and the table go quiet again. No more words. Jus' the click of silverware on plates and the slurping of water. Once we finish the meal, us children help Ma clean up the table and do the dishes. Pa goes into the living room and read the newspaper.

"Now, when y'all downstairs stay quiet," Ma tell us, "your Pa and I need to talk. We cannot have any distractions."

"Ma," Sam speak up, "what is 'distraction'?" His face show a lot of confusion. All of it for the one word. A word he don't know. He only six. He don't know all words.

"I'll write it down, and tomorrow night you check in the dictionary for the definition."

"Okay, Ma." He bring a torn piece of paper and a pencil to Ma and she write it out. Then he put it in his pocket to put in the pile of words to check in the dictionary. I ne'er allowed to tell him what any word mean. "He must learn himself or he won't learn nothin," Ma tell me if I try.