by Ken Busato
Chapter 1
The pillow is soft on the side of my face. It’s warm in our small croft as I lazily turn to my other side. I don’t want to get up. The loft I share with my little brother Liam is tiny, with almost no room to sit up without hitting your head, but a night’s sleep makes the space cozy and warm. The wind gently whistles its morning song outside, welcoming yet wild across the plain. I could sleep here for hours more. It’s cold outside, but soon I’ll have to get and start my daily chores.
I hear Papa moving about. It sounds like he’s changing into his working clothes. I certainly know what it means. Soon, I’ll get the nudge on my shoulder as he stands on the ladder leading to our bed, and hear those words I have memorized by heart…
“Molly, you know it’s time to rise. You can’t fool me laying there thinking you’re asleep. Your brother Liam, well, wild horses can’t wake him. You’ll have to get him up soon…”
Papa is stoking the last few embers in the fire in the corner of our little house. Soon, the warm feeling under the covers will be replaced with a soft heat from the fire. It’ll be safe to get up and not feel the cold slap you in the face. Papa doesn’t use much kindling to get the fire started although he should. The logs are not large, and the dampness in them sometimes makes it very difficult for the fire to catch. It bothers him a lot, but he keeps telling us we have to be careful.
We used to have a large pile of wood just outside the croft. Sometimes, the flames danced so high, I would stare at them and see figures moving in swirls of yellow, orange, and red. The heat would move throughout the croft. Liam and I would sit still, and Papa would start up with all of the old stories. Sometimes, it would be a great adventure story with a prince, princess, and a good bit of magic. Liam would squeal with laughter, and Papa knew he had us, that he could say almost anything and we would accept it without question. Mama would sit quietly as always and shake her head. She doesn’t always like the nonsense that comes out of Papa’s mouth, why fill their heads with all those lies she would say, but even she could not resist Liam’s laugh. After all, those stories made her fall in love and marry Papa long ago.
Now, Papa’s stories have changed. Magic is replaced with stories of true life heroes, family, hard work and morality. It’s a rare treat when we sit close to a roaring fire and hear a tale full of fantasy. Papa’s stories have all sorts of history. It’s all about our clan, and how strong we are. “You are a Fraser”, Papa says, “And your heart is Highland! These things you must never forget. You may not understand now, but I know one day you will understand how important it is you are a Fraser”.
I don’t get what Papa means, to be a Fraser. When he talks about the family like this, he changes so much. He is so serious and sad, like he has lost one of his greatest possessions. I know Liam does not understand too, but he is still young, only seven years old. Sometimes, when we are out working the fields, Papa will take a break and sit Liam down and talk to him like the way the minister does in church. Liam tries to listen, he tries to understand, but when you’re so young, you’re more interested in the shapes of clouds than family history…
“Liam, Liam, it’s time to get up. I know you can hear me.”
“Just a bit more sleep, Molly. Why did you have to wake me just then? I don’t want my dream to end.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
“I was out by the water near Lochgilphead. I was all by myself, but I wasn’t afraid. I looked out into the distance. The fish were dancing in circles and jumping up out of the water to say hello. There were birds flying in the distance, birds I had never seen before. I wanted to fly so I could be with them.”
“Molly, get that brother of yours up before I come over there and get him up with a hit to the backside!”
“Yes Papa! Come Liam, hurry up! And for goodness sake, try to keep your voice down to a whisper. Don’t disturb Mama from her rest.”
We have to stay quiet because Mama is not feeling too well. She can’t get upset, what with the baby growing inside. She has already lost two in the last four years, and I know to lose another would be too much. Papa knows it too. For such a big man, he steps so quietly when he’s close to her. He takes Liam by the hand and heads outside.
Since Mama is carrying, she stays in bed while the rest of us start the day. With the few things we have in the pantry, it’s up to me to get the breakfast ready while Papa and Liam go out to the barn. Usually, Mama would make the tattie scones while I would help make the tea and do the cleaning, but for the last couple of weeks it’s been my responsibility to feed everyone.
“Molly, are you okay doing the work this morning? I would help, but I’m so tired. I just need a bit more rest”.
“It’s alright Mama. Just make sure to get your rest. I’ve seen you make the tatties so many times. I could do it in my sleep.”
“Make sure not to use too much butter Molly. We have to be careful. Mr. Selby has been asking for more and more from your father these last few weeks. The taxes are getting too much.”
“Yes Mama, I’ll be careful.” I don’t fully understand what she is talking about, but I have seen Papa and Mr. Selby get into arguments the last few weeks. The last time was right after church. Papa kept his voice down, but the looks of everyone as they passed by … I wished I could have crawled into a hole. Mr. Selby is not a large man, but he thinks he is a lot better than Papa. I saw Papa clench his fists to hit Mr. Selby right there outside the Lord’s house. If Mama didn’t quietly lay her hand on his shoulder he would have done it too.
Soon, the croft filled with the smells of breakfast. The tattie scones cooked nicely and are almost ready, the tea is steeping, and Liam and Papa have come back from the barn with milk. Mama is now up, covered from head to foot in her shawl, sitting on the bench trying to prove to us she is awake and healthy. I know different though, but I keep it to myself.
“Papa”, I ask, “Why were you and Mr. Selby arguing after church last Sunday?” I shouldn’t ask, but I just couldn’t help myself.
“It’s none of your concern Molly. Come now, let’s sit and eat.”
“Soon papa. I’m just making sure the tatties are browned on both sides. Have some tea while you wait.” I know I shouldn’t bother Papa when he’s having his breakfast, but sometimes I get thinking and I can’t help myself. “Mama said something about you and Mr. Selby arguing over taxes. What does he want more for Papa? Doesn’t he know we have only a little for ourselves?”
Papa gave me an angry look. He started to clench his fists just like at the church when he got into that argument, but soon he relaxed. “Well, I guess you’re getting older Molly, and you have a right to know what is going on as much as anyone.”
I poured Papa another cup of tea and waited. Papa was a man of few words, except when it came to stories, and it sometimes took him a long time to come up with the right thing to say. Mama wrapped herself in a blanket over top of her shawl, and she sat at the end of the bench, close to the small fire. She’s not looking well. Papa is probably just as worried as I am. Liam doesn’t seem to know anything besides what dreams are in his head and how he can start in on breakfast.
Finally my father broke his silence. “Mr. Selby has given us only a few weeks before we have to move. It’s a damn shame, and I intend to fight. The sheep herders are coming, and more money can be made by turning what little land for farming we have into pasture.” Papa got up and did an unexpected thing. He saves the bottle of scotch for only special occasions, for only little drinks, and yet here he was uncorking the flask and taking a drink. Drinking right after breakfast was not something I was used to seeing from him. Uncle Willie made it a habit to start the day off the exact same way he finished it, but not Papa.
“Papa”, I asked, “What is to become of us? This is our home, it’s all Liam and I know. What does Mr. Selby expect the four of us to do? Wander the streets of Argyll without a home?”<
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“Now, now Molly, don’t worry so much. This is our home, and I don’t intend to just pack up and leave without a fight. Mr. Selby comes from a good Scottish clan. He’s not some Englishman who would simply come in and take what doesn’t belong to him. I know he can be reasoned with.”
“That fat, little Selby makes me sick,” Mama said. All this time, she sat quietly by the fire, and now that she was good and warm, the hot anger within her couldn’t be contained. “If that man thinks he is going to touch my family, he does not know what he is in for. I’ve heard about what happens when the sheep come. Good Scottish families with good history forced to find places to sleep and eat things no decent Christian should be allowed to eat. Yes, I’ve heard about what happens when they come with their huge flocks. Any of the good land that can be used to farm is ruined so sheep can graze, and the cloth mills in England make all the money. No, John, I don’t think Mr. Selby can be reasoned with. This has nothing to do with English or Scottish. It has to do with right and wrong, and I for one will not sit idly by and watch all my children have known be taken away so some rich man in England can squeeze out some extra money at the expense of my home.”
“Now, now Fiona, you’re worse than Molly with your worrying. I would never let anything happen to this family. Trust me. I’m not through yet trying to come to an agreement to keep us here. You all have my word: no harm will come to this family. As God is my witness, we will not let these sheep ruin what we have.”
I look in Papa’s eyes, and I wonder if he believes what he says? I know he would do anything to keep us here, to keep the family safe and happy, but Mama and I know better.
“That’s enough talk for now Molly. Look at me, having a drink so early in the day. You’d think I was Uncle Willie… It’s time you tidy up a little and join your brother outside. We still have our work to do. The crops just don’t take care of themselves. Help your mother back into bed so she can rest a little.”
Papa got up to go outside, with Liam following after him. I heard Mama sigh to herself and mutter words good Christian women don’t say. Yet, with everything we may have to go through and with her condition, I don’t think the Lord would mind a couple of bad words. “Mama, let me help you get back into bed for a little while. You really should rest some more.”
“You’re looking after me when it should be the other way around! I guess a little bit more rest would help me. This last week I have not been myself. Be a good girl and pour me a little more tea before I lie down.”
“It’s cold. Should I not make you some more, nice and hot?”
“No sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about me. Cold tea is just fine. I may be tired Molly, but you need not fret so much about my condition. The worse I feel, the more I know the baby inside is doing fine.”
Soon, all is very quiet in our little croft. Mama is resting, and the gentle sound of her breathing makes me hope all will be alright with her, and if she can stay strong, maybe she can stay strong for all of us.