Forest Dwellers

Chapter 8: Owen

The sun rose the next morning and lit up every drop of dew on the tall stalks of corn. Evan awoke with the bright light of it burning through his eyelids. Sadie slept soundly next to him, curled into the fetal position like a frightened child, the blankets she had hogged during the night wrapped around her body like a cocoon. Evan gazed at her for a moment, brushing the hair off her forehead and kissing her cheek. Sadie grumbled in her sleep, something about not wanting to drink mud for a dare, and then sighed heavily and dropped away. Evan ran his hands down her sides, lightly touching her palms and wrists and the inside of her arm where the elbow bent, feeling the velvety skin under his fingertips. He was about to kiss her exposed neck when a harsh voice rang out from outside.

"But why does it always have to be your way?" a whiny boy's voice called through the morning mist. Evan moved to the window and looked down at Martin and Charlie. Martin was flailing his arms as he ranted, looking like a crazed maniac. Charlie stood passive as a statue, rubbing at his eyes wearily.

"Martin I don't have time for this, okay?" Evan heard him say softly. "it has to be my way because this is my farm, alright? My farm. Mom and Dad left the responsibility to me. You have no idea what kind of things I have to do daily for this place, so yes I get to decided how we harvest the corn, what machines to use and so forth, because I know what's best.

"You inherited the farm because of your age!" Martin shouted. "age has nothing to do with skill or talent or insight!"

"I don't have time for this, Martin." Charlie rubbed at his eyes again. "I have _"

"Then make time!" Martin shouted again, "I'm sick of you disregarding my ideas just because you're the eldest brother, it's not fair!"

"You know what's not fair?" Charlie stepped toward him. "That I had to be left with this whole entire dust storm of a farm, with such a lazy, ignorant, inconsiderate, sinful, _"

"Could you two please kick it down a notch or two?" Evan was suddenly before them; both brothers had been to absorbed with their squabble to even take notice of his approach. "You almost woke Sadie up, your voices carry all the way to the attic."

"Oh no, wouldn't want to wake the princess up..." Martin drawled, turning and walking off. Evan glared at his back.

"How did he become that?"

"How did Cain become who he became? Jealousy and incompetence and sin." Charlie replied. "But I have you and Owen to make me proud anyway, right?"

"Of course." Said Evan, following Charlie across the field.

Owen sat contemplating the grass in front of him when Sadie emerged through the stalks. It was his own area, a place no one knew about where he could take a break and be alone when he needed to. There was a pile of tires discarded in the long grass to his left, a faulty tire swing he had created long ago to his right, hanging from a lanky willow tree, perfectly still on its ragged rope in the still air. Owen loved this weather. The anticipation of Autumn and a break from farming, the cool air just enough to chill the skin and make exercise enjoyable, the blush of his pallid cheeks, the sight of his own breath in front of him to let him know he was alive. Not to mention the fact that Martin barely emerged from the farmhouse on days when it was any less than 75 degrees. It was good weather to work in, to play in, to just sit and think and Owen took this opportunity to enjoy the onset of it. Once the harvest was done Charlie was going to ask Sadie and Evan to move in for good onto the farm; with the extra revenue they were going to be building a good sized guest house next to the barn, solely for the two of them. They couldn't possibly refuse such an offer. Owen sat on a discarded tire and thought about returning to work, eventually deciding against it; Martin's voice was carrying over the stalks and he knew what would happen if he emerged from his hiding spot. Martin was always fond of leaving his workload with Owen. Owen would put up no fight because he didn't have the will or the desire or the energy it took to fight with him. It was futile, and anyway he thought of Charlie and the extra strain it would be on him if Owen refused and the work never got done. So there he stayed in his special spot of seclusion, until the rustlings of Sadie made him perk up in alarm.