Sky Pirates

Chapter 2

Mildred Greene slid the large twirl into her smock pocket and pushed on the garden gate. The heavy wrought iron with rusted filigree tops high above her head didn't budge. "Oh, bother," she said to no one in particular, being alone. She fingered the twirl in her pocket, removed it, studied the over-sized key, placed it back into the hole, and turned it. She heard the click and knew that she'd once again locked the 10-foot high gate. Mildred gave it another turn and again placed the twirl in her pocket and once again pushed on the gate. Still, it didn't move. She felt her cheek, annoyed at the heat of the flush that rose there. She pushed again, harder. The metal blockade gently groaned, but refused entry.

None of the gardeners or stable hands were within view. Mildred gazed toward the great house, hopeful a servant or houseman might be near the manor, but the whole of the vast property seemed empty and deserted. The young woman turned and surveyed the long, high ivy-covered garden wall. She certainly couldn't climb over that. So, back to her task; Mildred braced her shoulder square against the bars, took a solid breath, and shoved with her full weight. Being only sixteen and slight, without breasts to speak of or curves in any other place to use as ballast or leverage, her action had no effect whatsoever.

She stepped back, took the lace handkerchief from her pocket, and wiped her brow. "This simply won't do," Mildred said aloud and turned on her heel, her muslin skirts slowly catching up. After following the path, she arrived at the workshop near the big barn. It took a long moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. Before she could see him, Cole spoke:

"What is it, Millie, I'm busy."

She made her older brother wait for her response. He was so rude to her at times, yet so loving at others. This, obviously, was of the former, not the latter. Mildred, who hated being called "Millie," even though both her brother and tutor used that horrible name when speaking to her, chose not to be offensive back to him. She, after all, needed his help, or at least his brawn, to gain entry into the garden. She chose her words and tone carefully. "Cole, can you please step away from your important task? I find that I'm helpless at the moment."

"What is it you require, dear sister?" He crossed the dusty floor and hovered over Mildred. "For, you must want something important if you're being so kind." Cole poked an oil stained finger into his sister's side, which made her laugh.

"Stop, your fingers are filthy. Whatever are you working on?" Her curiosity got the better of her and, for the briefest of moments, she was more interested in her brother's work than her own.

"Oh, Millie, come, let me show you." Cole took his sister's hand and pulled her toward the large workbench covered with gears of all sizes. "I've taken apart the workings of the old clock."

"Whatever for? Uncle Parker will be angry." Mildred knew that their uncle would also chastise Cole for his lack of jacket, open shirt collar, and rolled up sleeves. Uncle Parker would have said: "You're dressed like a commoner." But Mildred left well enough alone. It was not her task to be her brother's keeper.

"Uncle will be gone for weeks, maybe a month."

"But, Cole, why have you taken it apart?" Mildred surveyed the many pieces and parts in disarray on the table. "How did you get it all down here?"

"A little at a time. I took it apart up in the tower and then, when I couldn't figure out the cause of the problem, little by little I've carried it down here."

"If you do get it fixed, how will you get it back up there?"

"I'll deal with that when the time comes." Cole moved around the bench and picked up a large gear and a smaller one. "Do you see this?" he asked.