Grown-ups do big things. Little boys…do bigger things.
“Gen! Leia! Look who’s back!”
The children emerged from the house, still groggy from breakfast. But when they saw who it was, their eyes lit up.
“Nana!” They ran out the door and past Ma right into the middle-aged lady’s arms. She was elegant and poised even for her age. Gold hair turning silver, a beautiful gradient crowning her. The lines at the corners of her eyes deepening, chasms of grace and sagacity.
“Are you all good now?” Gen asked.
“Do you still feel that the ground is wobbly?” Leia added.
She smiled kindly and touched their chins, “I’m all better. The ground is as solid as can be.”
As they were gathered in the yard, Drewe ran by and stopped on the other side of the fence when he saw his neighbour’s family reunion.
“Ma’am,” he greeted in his deep voice, “Back from the healer’s house?”
Nana nodded, “Yes, it’s good to be home. Back at this time of day?”
“One of our nets tore so I’m back to get some spare ones,” Drewe replied before excusing himself politely and jogging into the house.
Nana walked the children towards the door, but before they could cross the threshold, Gen stopped her and motioned for her to lean down.
“Chief Whiner came and searched our house while you were gone,” he cupped a hand over her ear and whispered.
Nana paused and her eyes darted to the side for but just a moment.
“Did he find anything?”
Gen shook his head.
“That’s good.”
“Nana, did something happen with Ma and Pa a long time ago?”
“What made you think that?” Nana asked, trying to mask her surprise.
“Because Chief Whiner said ‘you of all people should understand’ to Ma and Pa.”
“And Chief said if Ma and Pa are keeping the test, the story will repeat,” Leia chimed in; Gen thought she had already gone into the house. She was proud of this piece of information she had ‘expertly’ gleaned and would offer it at any chance.
“Nana, do you know what that means?” Gen asked. He and Tymas had scratched their heads about it to no avail.
Nana pursed her lips then raised her shoulders in a shrug, “I’m not sure. But don’t worry about it.”
She then ushered the children into the house.
Gen took but a few steps across the threshold when someone called for him from outside. It was Tymas. He ran out again to meet him.
“Uncle Drewe needs some help bringing his nets to the village gate, he says we can come along!” he beamed, bouncing with excitement, then widening his eyes and blinking in a way that only his best friend could understand.
Gen nodded and bounded into the house to ask Ma for permission. After some persuading and insisting (that there was an adult in company), she let him go, though she wasn’t always sure about Drewe being good company.
When Gen met with Tymas and Uncle Drewe, Tymas motioned for him to come over and help him with the net he was lugging. Gen could see that Uncle Drewe quite obviously didn’t need any help at all. There were two nets under his right arm and his left one was free to swing back and forth as he walked.
“Uncle Drewe, how come you need so many nets?” Gen asked as the boys walked alongside him.
“These are nets I wove myself, they’re much stronger. I’m bringing them to replace the old ones used by the other men.”
“You’re giving your good nets to the other fishermen? But they’re yours!” Tymas perked up, waving a portion of the net in his hand.
“Fishing isn’t a competition, Tymas. We help one another. A good haul benefits all of us.”
Tymas fell silent while Gen nodded.
“If you want to be a fisherman when you’re grown up, you’ll have to learn to share and work together with the rest,” Drewe smiled.
Walking through the busy marketplace, the boys holding their heads high for an honour that wasn’t theirs, the village gate soon came into sight.
“Wait here. I’ll be back to walk you home,” Drewe said when they were close enough to the attendant’s post.
Grabbing the last net from the boys, the fisherman strolled up to the attendant. They talked for a bit (where Drewe had left them, they couldn’t hear the exchange), and he showed him the patch on his right shoulder. The attendant scribbled something on his notepad then motioned towards the gate. As Drewe walked through it, he waved back at the attendant.
“See? Easy peasy, all we have to do is show that man the patch on our shoulder,” Tymas smirked.
“What if there’s some code word that we have to say before he lets us through?” Gen said, wondering about what Uncle Drewe and the attendant had talked about.
“Nah, Uncle Drewe was just chatting with him. Like he always does with your Nana.”
The boys waited by the fruit stand owned by Mr Yaren. He was a nice man, though rule-abiding just like the other grown-ups.
“Where yer boys’ parents?” He asked, emerging from a make-shift tent carrying a crate of fruit. He had spotted them - the tops of their blond and brunet heads - loitering about and poking at his apples.
“We’re waiting for my uncle. He’s a fisherman,” Tymas responded, pleased at the relation.
“That’s Drewe, right?” the fruit vendor asked, setting the crate down on the ground and transferring more apples to the stack on the stand.
“Yup. His nets are the strongest. He’s giving them to the other men to replace their old and torn ones,” Tymas continued with praise.
“Nice fella,” Mr Yaren agreed, then took two apples and handed them to the boys, “Have a snack while you wait.” The boys thanked him.
“Where do these come from, Mr Yaren? I thought there were only trees outside the village. We see them far away from Ty’s rooftop,” Gen asked, taking a bite of the crisp treat. They’d read about fruit trees in the Chronicles.
“That’s what you boys don’t know. There’s a secret orchard within the village, on the far side west. That’s where we grow the apple trees.”
“Secret? Do you need to sell fruits to be able to go there?” Gen asked.
“Or worse, do you need a permit?” Tymas jumped in.
“Nah, no permits. Just plain old know-how.”
“Thanks for telling us your secret, Mr Yaren,” Tymas said innocently, and Mr Yaren froze for a moment. He then chuckled and left them to continue stocking his produce.
The boys hung around waiting and eating their apples until Gen saw Drewe come through the gate. Tymas was distracted by a fruit fly and was watching it jump from apple to apple on the stand.
But instead of walking straight towards them, Drewe stopped and began chatting with a slender lady who had accidentally walked into his path. She had long, umber brown hair.
Gen watched Uncle Drewe speak animatedly and smile widely, more than he usually does (and that’s saying a lot; Uncle Drewe smiles all the time). The little boy was puzzled at who the mysterious lady was, until she tucked her hair behind her ear and turned towards his direction, casting her eyes at the ground, a blush colouring her pale skin. He’d recognise that face anywhere, because he sees it four times a week for two hours each time.
“Ty…,” Gen tugged on Tymas’ sleeve and he looked over.
“What?!” He widened his eyes. Then in a matter of seconds, he was about to make his way towards them. Gen held him back, “Ty, they’re grown-ups. They are allowed to get married.”
“Get married?! No way! I don’t want to see Miss Enka in school and at home!
Do you want her to be your neighbour?” To that, Gen remained silent.
But before Tymas could storm up to them to break up their conversation, they parted ways and Drewe walked over to them.
“What’s wrong, Tymas?” Drewe asked, confused at his nephew’s frown greeting him, and yet the young boy looked so comical he had to stifle a laugh.
“Uncle, you’re not allowed to get married.”
“Married? I’m not getting married…at least, not now. Where did you get that idea?” he asked with a shaky chuckle, chafing the back of his neck.
Tymas folded his arms and glared at him, “You were talking to Ms Enka.”
“Ms Enka and I are just friends.”
Tymas gestured with two fingers pointing at his eyes then at Uncle Drewe.
The fisherman broke out in laughter and shook his head before ushering the boys towards home. As they passed Mr Yaren’s stall, Drewe stopped to buy a few apples. In fact, he bought two full bags of it, and paid for the two that Gen and Tymas had eaten.
“Nice fella,” Mr Yaren repeated under his breath as he watched the young chap walk the children home.
At the threshold of their yards, Drewe gave one bag of apples to Gen to give to his Ma. He had offered to carry it in for him but Gen insisted that he could handle it.
“Ma! Look what Uncle Drewe got us,” he called out, shuffling slowly into the kitchen, the large bag of apples balancing precariously in his little arms and threatening to spill over. Eventually, one did, and the rest followed in quick succession.
The apples rolled all over the floor. Nana walked into the room with Leia in tow, just in time to help pick them up.
“I don’t know why Drewe is doing this,” Ma muttered under her breath, sorting out the apples on the counter as Nana brought them to her.
“He’s just generous. What concerns you, dear?” Nana replied.
“Ma, you know I’m not referring to the apples.”
Gen was listening in with curiosity until the conversation ended as quickly as it began. Nana did not reply and neither did Ma continue. The two women went about the kitchen in tense silence.
Yet another one of those ‘grown-ups only’ colloquy. Gen wondered if they communicated in a language beyond words. It seemed they could reach a common understanding without so much as discourse, that much he had observed.
“Apple bread!” Leia exclaimed and broke the silence, raising an apple she’d pick up like a trophy. She scuttered towards the counter, stood on her toes, and pushed it over the edge into Ma’s hand.
The boys spent the afternoon on Tymas’ roof again.
“I told my Ma about the secret orchard and she said that’s where Pa gets the wood for his work too,” Gen said. He was lying on his belly, sketching on a piece of paper.
“The grown-ups always have their secrets! Good thing we have ours too,” Tymas replied, sitting upright from where he was bent over his own piece of paper.
“I don’t think Uncle Drewe keeps any secrets from us,” Gen mused.
“Maybe, but he’s friends with Ms Enka. That means he’s not on our side too.”
“Ty, your nose.” There was a trickle of blood from his left nostril. Tymas wiped it off with the base of his thumb nonchalantly and smeared it down the side of his tunic.
“My Ma says the weather is too hot.”
“Oh, my Nana just got back from the healer’s house. She was sick because of the hot weather too.”
Indeed, there had been a spate of heat wave-induced illnesses lately, affecting everyone but especially the younger and older ones. Nana had experienced dizziness and even passed out once so Pa brought her to the healer’s house.
“So here’s the plan. Chief Whiner and some of the elders are coming to my house for dinner next week. My Ma and Pa will be so busy shopping at the marketplace and cooking in the days before that they won’t even notice that I’m gone. That’s when we can roll out the plan,” Tymas said, presenting what he’d scribbled. He’d drawn a lady with squiggly hair (his Ma) with an arrow pointing from her to a mean-looking, bald-headed man. On the bottom half of the page, he had drawn two boys with an arrow pointing from them to a gate-looking structure.
Dinner at Tymas’ was always a treat because his Pa was one of Derri’s best cooks. But dinner with Chief Wyer and the elders…Gen had a feeling even the best food would lose its flavour.
“But Ty, we only have one tunic with the patch. There’s two of us. And won’t your Ma be even more strict with you? She would want Chief Whiner to think you’re well-behaved,” Gen answered, casting doubt on their scheme.
“Oh, I’ll definitely be well-behaved…when she’s around. But trust me, she won’t be around much to boss us around. Dinner with Chief Whiner is too big of a deal for her.
As for the patch, we’ll take turns. One of us can be on the lookout.”
Gen was all for the chance to leave Derri and venture into the big, wide world. He just wished there was another, less illegal, way.
“By the way, what did you tell your Ma about the groceries?”
“What groceries?” A devious smile spread across his face.
Author's note: If this chapter made you fall in love with Drewe, das right.
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