Nature Sings

Chapter 3

The day went by too quickly. Being with Eralow filled Mass's boring life with glowing happiness. Just silently walking with her made his day better. The fact that she tolerated him for so many years gave him a warm feeling in his stomach.

When Eralow finished up her shopping, Mass went along with the Stone family to their home. They'd usually stuff him full of food, no matter how much he declined, but it was a warm place with smiling faces and the smell of seasonings.

The two friends paced behind the tall Mr. Stone as the clanging from the blacksmiths and the shouting from the merchants and the jabber of the people faded away. Soon the noises transitioned entirely to cawing crows and the creaking of the stray fruit trees swaying in the wind in the fields of farmers.

The long, curving, path was slim and rocky. Pebbles and mud flew and spattered every step that was taken on the way. By the time they reached the household, mud was painted half way up Mass's calves. He had no time to worry about it, because as soon the as the apple wood door creaked open, Eralow's four year old brother sprung up and greeted him.

"Do you want cornbread, Mass? Momma made cornbread, and we have jam too! We never get jam with our cornbread, 'specially raspberry jam! It's good, do you want some?"

"You know Sammy, I'm good. I ate before I came over."

The little boy with the mop of blond curls giggled. "You always say that, Mass."

"Come on, Sammy, he'll have some bread later," Eralow said in a hushed and gentle tone. She creaked the door open further and welcomed Mass inside.

He was welcomed by the familiar scent of spices and wood shavings and the squeals of Eralow's young siblings as they caught sight of the seemingly heroic and experienced boy.

"Mass, do you want cornbread?" Eight year old Arthur asked hopefully.

"Well, I-"

But before he could even come up with another excuse, Ginger shoved a piece in his hand.

"It's so yummy!" She cried joyously, throwing her hands in the air with delight.

Mass smiled down at her, and began to eat for their amusement. Mrs. Stone soon got around the children and to him. She pulled him in a tight embrace, cutting off his airway for several seconds before releasing him.

"You're such a good boy, Mass. Go sit down while you eat, I don't want you spreading crumbs. No, no, dear, at the table!"

Mass clumsily found a chair at the large table and quickly finished his cornbread while Eralow had gone to get her cloak.

It was loud and buzzing like a beehive, but genuine care and love shimmered through each family member. That was something that Mass believed his parents somewhat lacked.

It wasn't that they were bad people. Not at all. But, as silly as it made Mass feel, he wished that his parents would check on him before he slept, that they sang silly songs by the little fireplace, and baked bread together. He wished they would all read together, or go explore meadows beyond the walls.

But that wasn't how they worked. They fed Mass and clothed him, they were proud of Ben, and they trusted their boys. But there wasn't that cozy, glowing, warmth in their home that he often yearned for.

His sentimental feelings poured away when Eralow came running down the stairs, with a green cloak wrapped around her.

"Ready to go, Mass?" She asked with the same smile that made her eyes sparkle.

He nodded, and after they bid a farewell to each individual sibling, Mass and Eralow skittered out the door.

*

Seeing as they had only a few more hours of sunlight, they worked quickly. They rushed to the barn and saddled their horses.

Eralow's horse was a sleek black stallion who jumped the highest and furthest of any other horse they knew of. She called the thing Lucky and was extremely proud of him.

Mass somewhat adopted his horse. He had no room in the town for his own horse, and he didn't have the money for it to sleep in a neighbors. So, Mr. Stone let Mass work on his farm in exchange for his own horse and a place for it. Mass called his chestnut colored mare Sprint, for she was trained to run, and run she did.

After kissing the horses and giving them an apple each to get them started, Mass and Eralow swung onto their horses and trotted off to Moondrop Creek where they'd spend the rest of the evening.

Along the way they'd race "from here to the next tree!" in which Mass usually won, and take turns jumping over stray logs and stumps, where Eralow always claimed her victory.

Moondrop Creek was around fifteen to thirty minutes away from Eralow's home, but they'd usually spend up to an hour for the need of these little competitions.

When they finally reached the trickling brook, they were sweaty and panting and laughing.

After Mass and Eralow jumped from their horses and removed their shoes, they splashed into the water and cooled off. The mud was cool but refreshing between their toes. A breeze gentle enough to make Eralow's hair sway but not a sapling bend swirled by, chilling them out of the water.  

They fed their horses and watered them while making light talk of nothing in particular and everything individually. When the horses were satisfied, Mass and Eralow settled down on the crisp, dried, grass. They used Mass's satchel as a pillow and Eralow's cloak served as a blanket. There was no conversation made, but their bond grew nonetheless. Even laying beside each other proved to strengthen trust between each other.

A lone cricket chirped by the running creek, and a honking V of geese sailed through the pale sky overhead. The sounds of nature reassured Mass and he couldn't put his finger on the reason. Perhaps it was the thought that no matter what happened to him personally, birds would always sing and toads would always croak.

Eralow began to speak in a hushed, dazed, sort of tone. It was a bit of nonsense stirred in with reality, all of it blending together in one soup of a story. Mass laughed at her speech of nothing but found it soothing and sweet.

They took turns telling stories that usually made little sense but had clever bits and pieces that amused one another. They giggled and talked as children did, and loved doing so. But the pale sun began to slip over the faded blue sky and behind the earth. It took several minutes to actually mount the horses for they didn't want to leave their happy little haven.

However, the thought of getting home while the moon glowed did them in, and they galloped up to their highest speed.