Sallie was sitting in her chair on the porch, nursing a ginger ale and munching on a peanut butter and banana sandwich. It was one of those days where the best thing to do was relax and enjoy the day.
She could hear Harold in the backyard, hammering away at something in the tool shed. Later they were going to look over the garden to see what they could harvest and use in a salad for dinner. Harold wanted to start canning a few things for fall. The flowers she and Harold planted were doing well, and the faint smell of lavender that surrounded the clearing was very calming.
A thundering noise approaching the cabin interrupted her thoughts. A large thing, with someone riding it, pulled up into the yard. It was a shiny, smelly thing on two wheels. A man was riding on it. Or it seemed like a man. He was wearing something on his head and something covering his eyes.
Sallie sat still in her seat, glad that she was small enough that he didn’t notice or see her. She had seen nothing like it before, not even in the village. There were a few of those four wheeled shiny things that Harold said were cars, but most people in the village walked everywhere. A few, like Harold, used bikes.
The man got off the shiny contraption, took off his headpiece and the mask like thing around his eyes. Sallie gasped. The man looked like a slightly older version of Harold. Same color hair, same build and similar facial features. His hair was longer and pulled into a low ponytail that hung down his back. She realized he must be Harold’s older brother that no one had heard from in so long. The man walked up the pathway when Harold came trotting from around the back. Harold stopped short as he recognized who the man was.
The two men stood a few feet apart, staring at each other. Harold took a quick glance at the porch, saw Sallie watching, and turned back to the man. They looked at each other for a bit. Harold broke the silence. “Hello, Henry. What brings you here?”
“Harold! I heard you were living out here. Nice little place you have!” Sallie noticed Henry had a big, bellowing voice, much like Harold did. His compliment about the cabin and clearing sounded a little too forced. Sallie wondered what sort of relationship the brothers had as they were growing up.
“What do you want, Henry?” Harold was irritated by the unexpected intrusion of Henry's visit.
Sallie couldn’t tell from Harold’s tone what to think. She had learned that there were some subjects that Harold clammed up on when she had asked, and his older brother was one of those subjects. She wanted to fly over but thought it might be better to stay where she was. This might be one of those ‘between family only’ sort of moments. Sallie knew she’d be having a few of her own family only moments at some point.
“Aw, come on, little brother! I haven’t seen you in years and this is how you greet me? I was passing through and looked in on Ma and Dad. They said you lived out here. I thought you were the prodigal son and would take over Dad’s shop. What happened to that?”
Harold was silent for a bit. The last thing he wanted to do was give Henry a rundown of his personal life. If Henry had already been poking around in the village, then he knew enough. Harold would not give Henry any more reason to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.
“I changed my mind.”
“You were always such a loner. I guess this shouldn’t surprise me. You will not invite me in or anything, are you? You’re not even interested in how Ma and Dad are doing?”
“I check in on them when I’m in the village. As you can see, they are fine.” Harold took a deep breath. “And no, you’re not invited in. Truthfully, you’re not welcome. I have my life. You have yours. I have things to take care of around here. Goodbye Henry.” Harold turned and started walking towards the back yard to finish the table he had been working on.
Sallie watched as Henry stood in silence for a bit before getting back on the noisy machine. She had to cover her ears as he roared it down the path and onto the road back to the village. Sallie flew to the back yard and over to Harold, perching on his shoulder. “WHAT was that thing he was on? I thought you chopping down trees was loud enough.”
Harold grinned, knowing that Sallie was bursting with curiosity, but also wise enough not to ask questions.
“It’s called a motorcycle. And yes, it’s very noisy. I still have a few things to do back here. Did you want to look over what vegetables are ripe enough to pick?”
Sallie gave Harold a winning smile and darted over to the vegetable garden. Everything was ok again.