Small things

The smell of soup and apple brandy settled everywhere chasing the dampness from the night that was still, a dark and rainy one. Warmth from the copper coils that ran through the floor rose through the cotton rugs and mats. Purposely positioned radiators kept the nooks where people automatically clustered just that little bit cozier. Peg O'Neil had a kitchen chair pulled in front of the radiator that replaced a wood burning stove. The raised brick hearth still served as a perch for warming cold feet. Maydene started to offer her towels. Calypso shook her head, reached for clean rags and an old throw rug, "Use these. I'll take the towels." There weren't many big fluffy bath towels to share with a cat. Even this cat. The sisters nodded an acknowledgement of priorities. Small things. But still.

Daniel asked for the keys to the old truck, "I have a gas can. Fill her up, and move it to the side of the road till morning."

"Can I come?"

"Ask your mom about that Pat." There were things boys need to do with another man, and since there weren't many opportunities for Pat, or Daniel to share these rituals, Peg O'Neil looked up from the cat now less drenched. "Take a flashlight! And keep your hood up ... please!"

"Course I will!" The boy knew where his mother kept the flashlight in their car. Small things. But still.

In turn Calypso and Maydene made sure the two girls were stripped of wet clothes, the costumes of the day were replaced with dry socks, turtle neck shirts, freshly washed fleece hoodies, and long warm skirts swimming in patchwork designs. "How delicious you both look," once the girls had switched from costume to Pine Needle Dance Makers.Larkin's skirt was just that. Larkin's skirt. She was at least three inches taller this year and the row of new patches were scalloped and deep blue. She twirled to get the feel of it. "Thank you gran. I love it!"

"How did you know to have a skirt for me?" Kaitlin the clever was running her small hands up and down the length of her new skirt. The patches were quilted adding warmth. As she moved her hands over them a smatter of spark lit around her.

"Always pays to be prepared for company, sweetheart. Pine Needle Dance Makers have some very simple rules. One of them is there's always enough." Calypso felt her heart crack ... just a little.

The miniature witch looked across the room to her mother, then quickly back to Larkin's gran. "Are there many other rules?"

"Not many." It was true.

A little more.


Author's Note:

It's the second full day of my 68th year. The Wind in his or her elemental form is blowing fiercely. It stirs everything and everyone up. With that blowing element touching us all, I came back to check on the story. Just as I am checking on my current pot of soup simmering nicely on the burner under the eaves outside, I followed Pete's comment, "My head's swimming from trying to keep up with all the characters.(In this story). You do that when you start."

I do. I do like to get to know who is coming into story form. I don't know in advance, really I don't.

Anyway, the thing is I will sometimes mix them up (the names of characters) especially when the medicine is just sorting itself out. Like soup. The flavors not yet melded, the squash is still not broken down, the onions near half dissolved into the broth. So, what I'm saying is I found a mix of names in this part of Pine Needle Dancers. You may have already found how I did that with the two little girl's names.

I am sorry about that. These are not perfectly honed stories ... just tasty enough to get something out of me. Called out of me. The girls have been given their proper places again with their names attached for the next bits of things. The dancing will start up soon. Hear it? The dance of the wind, and the music is high up in the Tall Ones.

Cheers ... ymc