Storm Brewing

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***
Mother wiped the dishes. “Where’s your plate, Mary?”

“I must have dropped it with the food. May I take Big Ears to live with me, Mother?”

“Mary, you’re such a child. Joseph may not want a dog to feed. He wants a wife, not a pet.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask him. I think he likes dogs.”

“How would you know?”

“I hope he likes dogs. I will miss Big Ears if I can’t take him with me.”

“You’re not planning to take me along with you, too, are you?”

“Oh, Mother, of course not. You’re too old, and besides, Papa needs you here.”

“Thanks a lot, pal. Perhaps Papa needs Big Ears. Somebody has to eat the scraps and I suppose lick the plates if you don’t run outside this instant and retrieve that dish.”

“Yes, Mother. Where is Papa, anyway?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s had a rough day and needs his rest. He’s not as young as he used to be. So you’ll be quiet, won’t you, dear?”

“As you wish, Mother.”

Mary headed for the back door of the cottage, but stopped when a loud rush of wind exploded and the cooking fire flared with a whoosh.

“Mother, what was that?”

“It’s a storm brewing, child. We could use the rain.”

“Didn’t sound like any wind I ever heard.”

“The things you think about. Get the plate, now.”

Mary returned to the yard and grabbed the dish. A giant moonlit shadow crossed the stone wall behind her house. Mary gasped and ran inside.

“Big Ears never came for his supper. Do you suppose something could have happened to him?” Mary handed the place to Mother.

Mother patted Mary’s head. “Don’t be a worry-wart, child. He’s probably visiting his fiancée. Dogs get married, too, sometimes.”

Mary’s stomped her foot. “No they don’t. They pretend they’re married and make puppies.”

Mother raised her eyes. “Mary!”

“Well, it’s true.” Mary’s hands flew to her hips.

“You’re far too young to talk about such things.”

Mary grabbed a cloth to dry the dishes. “I’m engaged. I have to know about these things.”

“I suppose, but you’re still a little girl to me.”

“Mother.” Mary’s right fist dropped to her hip.

“I know, dear. Time flies on eagle’s wings while here below, we just get older.”

Mary sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m going to my room now.”

“Give your mother a kiss first.”

“Yes, Mother, I will.”

***
To Dwell Among Us continues tomorrow.

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