A Tale Of Peculiars

CHAPTER TWO: BENEDICT'S EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY

IT wasn't as bad as I expected. As expected, Papa took the news lightly. He admitted he agreed to it beforehand and Mama only asked a few questions regarding me being held back a year.

"Not everyone gets the privilege to be offered an extra year of training, auden. You should be grateful," Papa said.

He came home from the farm just so he can hear what I needed to say in person. I felt bad knowing he left his precious herd of sheep behind.

"Don't worry about them. Nicholas volunteered to take care of them," he said earlier.

Nicholas, the boy who has been working for Papa since he was eleven. He stole a cart full of sheep wool from our farm and accidentally pushed it into the ocean. In order to pay off the amount of wool he wasted, Papa made the orphan boy work for him for a year. Papa saw Nicholas's hyper-speed as an advantage and offered him free lodging and offered to pay for his training which the latter happily accepted. Since then, Nicholas lived and worked at the farm.

"You don't have to call me 'auden' anymore, Papa. I'm not five years old." I rolled my eyes.

"Ah, yes. You're seventeen, about to turn eighteen next month. Don't you worry, as I said, be thankful of the privilege. Now, speaking of Nicholas, he mentioned he wanted to take a breakday tomorrow because of a friend's birthday. Ridiculous!" Papa exclaimed, throwing his hands to the air. "Who still celebrates birthdays?"

"Oh, shush Jeonni, let the children do what they want." Mama scowled at him as she set the table. "Christine, Katherine, go wash your hands before you touch anything."

The twins quickly climbed down their chairs and ran to the kitchen, only to come back seconds later with damp hands.

"Birthdays are just yearly reminders that we're getting closer to the grave," Papa grumbled.

"You're just saying that because you yourself is growing older and older, Papa. By the way, I need a breakday tomorrow to attend the same birthday," I admitted. I grabbed a breadroll and took a bite. "I have to watch the Badge-giving Ceremony tomorrow as well," I added with a mouthful of bread.

"Eat like a properly, Isabel!" Mama scolded.

I swallowed the bread before apologizing.

Papa rolled his eyes over his stew. He had always been so sour about any kind of celebrations. He acts the same way about other festivities. Waste of time, he says.

The next day, I rode with Papa to my friend's house. The farm is in the same direction and he offered to give me a ride on the carriage. Both of us didn't say anything the entire time. Only the crunch of the earth beneath the carriage wheels and the clops of the oxen's hooves against the ground filled my ears. We passed by the market which is bustling with activity. Then past the bridge which went over the river where the fishermen waited patiently for fish to bite on their hooks. After that, only the wind accompanied us.

Nicholas stood at the gates of the Bolton's property while smoking a pipe. He has his long black hair swept back, save for a few stubborn strands which stayed on his face. He walked over to us as soon as he saw our wagon approaching.

"Good day to ya, Mr Jeonni and to ya, Isabel," he greeted.

His accent is very much like the accents of those native to the Village of Cabbages. He rolled his R's and he has a slight lisp.

"Here, let me help ya down." He offered a hand to me which I took without hesitation. The effects of hard work showed on his rough, calloused palms.

I climbed down the wagon and bid my father goodbye.