Not Quite Grey
May. 13th, 2012 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bardiphoukaWritten for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
brigits_flame
Prompt: Blue Barn
Word Count:1533
genre: science fantasy
We did not get Travelers around much anymore. Time was their caravans were a regular sight, pulling into the homesteads at least once a season. But the Council had decided that they were malcontents and heretics, leading honest 'steaders astray when they weren't cheating them. It didn't matter that since the flares had stopped communications, the Travelers had been how we got our news, and our entertainment with their stories and their music. Or perhaps, some whispered quietly, that was the matter as far the Council was concerned. For when you learned things you had a tendency to use that knowledge. Did they cheat? All in how you looked at it,as Da said. As far he was concerned the trading was a game, just one more piece of entertainment. And if they came out ahead, so be it. He just looked at it as pay for the music and the stories.
It had been a wet spring and the Council riders had been leaving us alone. We were sure they would make up for it closer to harvest time. But the riders for all their sporadic cruelty, knew there was nothing to be gained by riding out in the constant drenching that we had been going through.
Deirdre saw it first, while she was out chasing a chicken with ideas of flight and freedom. She yelled and we all came out. Somehow the rain made the bright colours even more garish. Ma came out and told us all to stay back while Da when ahead to talk to the Traveler family in their caravan. They lead the caravan into the old weathered barn. As filled with holes and broken slats as it was, somehow the caravan seemed to fade into the darkness. Which was as well. Just because the Council had not been here did not mean they would not be.
The travelers spilled out of the barn. 7 children of various ages, and a grizzled but stout man with a long mustache and his grey hair tied back. When I saw his middle daughter I knew I had seen them all before. It had been 5 harvests, but you never forget the lass who gives you your first kiss. And those 5 harvests had been ever so kind to Fiona. There were curves well endowed where before there had only been the hint of them. I wondered if she remembered me.
“Paddy!” Da called out to me. “Help the Doherty with his team then.”
“Aye DA. And God and Joseph be with you on this day Mr Doherty. Health to thee and thine.”
“God, Joseph and Brigit be with you on this fine sunny day.” Mr Doherty smiled as he stood in the rain. “Would you mind give them a brushing, lad? I am afraid the wet might settle into them at some point if we don't find more hospitality soon.”
I was not sure exactly what he meant, but I had an uneasy feeling about it. Our neighbours seemed to be spending more time listening to the prattling of the Council as the harvests had been getting leaner, and what supplies we could not make grew scarcer. But that thought got swept from my head when Fiona offered to help me with the horses. “Not,”she said, “that he looks like he needs much help. You've grown Paddy sir, since the last time we met. Gone all strong and muscled too, I see.” There was a sparkle in her eyes that had me blushing almost as much as her words.
The next few days went by like a summer dust devil. During the day they helped with some of the repairs we just had not found the time for. And at night there was music and story telling. And after the jigs and ballads, when the wee ones were asleep and the grownups talked with their jugs and long faces, that Fiona taught me that it was much easier for her small form to kiss my taller one if we were horizontal. And that while we were there, other things could be done as well as kissing.
Besotted, that is what Moira called my condition those days. I think besotted must be one of the nicer conditions to have. But it did not stop me from noticing and learning things. I found out that their Ma had died of a fever two years past. Finn, the oldest boy, said it was because the Council would not let their Doctors treat her. The rest of the children were quieter and more subdued. Even Nancy, who had been a nursing bairn the last time I had seen her, had become a subdued 5 year old. She and her brother Keiran seemed to latch onto Ma, following her around and tripping over themselves trying to be helpful.
The last day they stayed with us the sun actually came out. Mr Doherty disappeared in the back of the caravan and came back out with cans of paint. Before we knew it, everyone had paint brushes and we were going at the old greying barn. But it was the oddest thing. Instead of red, we were painting it a sort of sky blue. I asked Mr Doherty about it.
“Well lad, do you know why people paint their barns red?” I shook my head. “Because it is the colour of harvest, lad. Tis the colour of the leaf-rugs and the apples and an invitation for the crops to fill the barn. Now blue, though, imagine what you might find invited with a colour like that.” And with that he winked and laid a finger to his nose.
They left the next morning. I helped Fiona up on the wagon and her eyes shone, but she grasped my hands as though she did not want to let go. I could not understand why I found that as intoxicating as the time we had spent under their caravan.
It took a bit, but we soon discovered what Mr Doherty had meant. First came the doves, lovely fat things that could feed us all for days. And then hawks and eagles, who would drop off game for us as they roosted in the rafters. One day there was wonderful egg the size of a small wagon. I looked up to see a dragon winging off into the hills.
Eventually, as the weather cleared, we got a visit from the Council Riders. They seemed upset at the colour of the barn. “Mr. Murphy,” the leader said with as much sternness as he could muster, “you cannot have a blue barn. You are going to have to repaint it or tear it down. And where did you get the paint anyway.” I recognised one of the new riders, Jamie Tone from a few fields over. He seemed uncomfortable at being there.
Da moved off his chair and stood up. This put the Riders at a disadvantage because not a one of them came close to Da's height. In fact, I had noticed, I was taller than them now. I could not understand why I had used to think they were so big. I moved next to Da. I could see Ma beaming and knew I had done the right thing.
Da explained he had found the paint while doing some cleaning in the barn. And besides, he said, it was not blue, it was grey. Just as grey as Rider Pearse's tie there, Da had said, pointing to the Rider's bright red tie.
I suddenly remembered Jamie being at a dance last year where Da, somewhat with the creature taken, had been praising Ma's cornflower blue eyes. He moved over to Rider Pearse and I was afraid to see what would happen next.
“Rider Pearse,” he said as matter of factly as he could, “It is obvious Mr. Murphy would not know blue from red or green. And if you make him tear the barn down the we would have no crops to collect our tithe from.”
The leader still did not seem quite convinced. He looked at my brothers and sisters. “Why have you let your father paint the barn like this?”
Deirdre had been listening to the talk of the Council ideas. She spoke demurely, and with her eyes averted. “But sir, our Da says that it is grey paint, and certainly we would never disagree with our da.”
The leader knew he was caught this time. He called for his men to saddle and they rode off. I noticed a piece of paper where Jamie had been and picked it up.
“I am sorry Paddy,” the note said, but our crops failed last year and we need the money. Be careful.”
Ma turned to Da and said “You do know that the barn is blue,right?”
Da smiled “Well, let's just say that it is not quite grey.”
The next week we went out to the barn and saw the first of the pegasus that would be coming. And with them, our chance at freedom and adventure in the years to come.
brigits_flamePrompt: Blue Barn
Word Count:1533
genre: science fantasy
We did not get Travelers around much anymore. Time was their caravans were a regular sight, pulling into the homesteads at least once a season. But the Council had decided that they were malcontents and heretics, leading honest 'steaders astray when they weren't cheating them. It didn't matter that since the flares had stopped communications, the Travelers had been how we got our news, and our entertainment with their stories and their music. Or perhaps, some whispered quietly, that was the matter as far the Council was concerned. For when you learned things you had a tendency to use that knowledge. Did they cheat? All in how you looked at it,as Da said. As far he was concerned the trading was a game, just one more piece of entertainment. And if they came out ahead, so be it. He just looked at it as pay for the music and the stories.
It had been a wet spring and the Council riders had been leaving us alone. We were sure they would make up for it closer to harvest time. But the riders for all their sporadic cruelty, knew there was nothing to be gained by riding out in the constant drenching that we had been going through.
Deirdre saw it first, while she was out chasing a chicken with ideas of flight and freedom. She yelled and we all came out. Somehow the rain made the bright colours even more garish. Ma came out and told us all to stay back while Da when ahead to talk to the Traveler family in their caravan. They lead the caravan into the old weathered barn. As filled with holes and broken slats as it was, somehow the caravan seemed to fade into the darkness. Which was as well. Just because the Council had not been here did not mean they would not be.
The travelers spilled out of the barn. 7 children of various ages, and a grizzled but stout man with a long mustache and his grey hair tied back. When I saw his middle daughter I knew I had seen them all before. It had been 5 harvests, but you never forget the lass who gives you your first kiss. And those 5 harvests had been ever so kind to Fiona. There were curves well endowed where before there had only been the hint of them. I wondered if she remembered me.
“Paddy!” Da called out to me. “Help the Doherty with his team then.”
“Aye DA. And God and Joseph be with you on this day Mr Doherty. Health to thee and thine.”
“God, Joseph and Brigit be with you on this fine sunny day.” Mr Doherty smiled as he stood in the rain. “Would you mind give them a brushing, lad? I am afraid the wet might settle into them at some point if we don't find more hospitality soon.”
I was not sure exactly what he meant, but I had an uneasy feeling about it. Our neighbours seemed to be spending more time listening to the prattling of the Council as the harvests had been getting leaner, and what supplies we could not make grew scarcer. But that thought got swept from my head when Fiona offered to help me with the horses. “Not,”she said, “that he looks like he needs much help. You've grown Paddy sir, since the last time we met. Gone all strong and muscled too, I see.” There was a sparkle in her eyes that had me blushing almost as much as her words.
The next few days went by like a summer dust devil. During the day they helped with some of the repairs we just had not found the time for. And at night there was music and story telling. And after the jigs and ballads, when the wee ones were asleep and the grownups talked with their jugs and long faces, that Fiona taught me that it was much easier for her small form to kiss my taller one if we were horizontal. And that while we were there, other things could be done as well as kissing.
Besotted, that is what Moira called my condition those days. I think besotted must be one of the nicer conditions to have. But it did not stop me from noticing and learning things. I found out that their Ma had died of a fever two years past. Finn, the oldest boy, said it was because the Council would not let their Doctors treat her. The rest of the children were quieter and more subdued. Even Nancy, who had been a nursing bairn the last time I had seen her, had become a subdued 5 year old. She and her brother Keiran seemed to latch onto Ma, following her around and tripping over themselves trying to be helpful.
The last day they stayed with us the sun actually came out. Mr Doherty disappeared in the back of the caravan and came back out with cans of paint. Before we knew it, everyone had paint brushes and we were going at the old greying barn. But it was the oddest thing. Instead of red, we were painting it a sort of sky blue. I asked Mr Doherty about it.
“Well lad, do you know why people paint their barns red?” I shook my head. “Because it is the colour of harvest, lad. Tis the colour of the leaf-rugs and the apples and an invitation for the crops to fill the barn. Now blue, though, imagine what you might find invited with a colour like that.” And with that he winked and laid a finger to his nose.
They left the next morning. I helped Fiona up on the wagon and her eyes shone, but she grasped my hands as though she did not want to let go. I could not understand why I found that as intoxicating as the time we had spent under their caravan.
It took a bit, but we soon discovered what Mr Doherty had meant. First came the doves, lovely fat things that could feed us all for days. And then hawks and eagles, who would drop off game for us as they roosted in the rafters. One day there was wonderful egg the size of a small wagon. I looked up to see a dragon winging off into the hills.
Eventually, as the weather cleared, we got a visit from the Council Riders. They seemed upset at the colour of the barn. “Mr. Murphy,” the leader said with as much sternness as he could muster, “you cannot have a blue barn. You are going to have to repaint it or tear it down. And where did you get the paint anyway.” I recognised one of the new riders, Jamie Tone from a few fields over. He seemed uncomfortable at being there.
Da moved off his chair and stood up. This put the Riders at a disadvantage because not a one of them came close to Da's height. In fact, I had noticed, I was taller than them now. I could not understand why I had used to think they were so big. I moved next to Da. I could see Ma beaming and knew I had done the right thing.
Da explained he had found the paint while doing some cleaning in the barn. And besides, he said, it was not blue, it was grey. Just as grey as Rider Pearse's tie there, Da had said, pointing to the Rider's bright red tie.
I suddenly remembered Jamie being at a dance last year where Da, somewhat with the creature taken, had been praising Ma's cornflower blue eyes. He moved over to Rider Pearse and I was afraid to see what would happen next.
“Rider Pearse,” he said as matter of factly as he could, “It is obvious Mr. Murphy would not know blue from red or green. And if you make him tear the barn down the we would have no crops to collect our tithe from.”
The leader still did not seem quite convinced. He looked at my brothers and sisters. “Why have you let your father paint the barn like this?”
Deirdre had been listening to the talk of the Council ideas. She spoke demurely, and with her eyes averted. “But sir, our Da says that it is grey paint, and certainly we would never disagree with our da.”
The leader knew he was caught this time. He called for his men to saddle and they rode off. I noticed a piece of paper where Jamie had been and picked it up.
“I am sorry Paddy,” the note said, but our crops failed last year and we need the money. Be careful.”
Ma turned to Da and said “You do know that the barn is blue,right?”
Da smiled “Well, let's just say that it is not quite grey.”
The next week we went out to the barn and saw the first of the pegasus that would be coming. And with them, our chance at freedom and adventure in the years to come.
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no subject
Date: 2012-05-13 06:33 pm (UTC)I loved our Travellers, the real ones, not the diddycoys.. the real Romanies - our 'locals' went by the name of Smith, the Sydney Smiths. Fond memories of them hop picking and sprout picking...and leaving carved wooden chrysanthemums behind my gate to let me know they'd be along if I had any spare clothes etc.
And did the Murphy's really really have a 'pegasus' in the bl - er grey barn?
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Date: 2012-05-13 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-13 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-13 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-14 06:14 am (UTC)twas always word and song. Oh what a nice snuggly thought. Loves yer oh Travelling Man.
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Date: 2012-05-17 04:47 am (UTC)Da smiled “Well, let's just say that it is not quite grey.”
Hee. I like how the fantasy elements are dropped in casually. And the blue barn certainly seems to have different significance in every different piece!