Before the beginning
I had always been there, whether she knew it, or I knew it, or not. I was there on the day she was born, I heard her first cries, sat on the living room floor, waiting for my mother as Sebastian slept in the crib.
We were out visiting mothers’ friend again, we would come here often, it seemed like my second home, like my second family. Uncle Bill always had time for me, unlike my father who was always busy or away. There was a lot of fuss as this baby was special, I didn’t know why, my mother already had four boys, and I don’t remember such a fuss being made when Sebastian was born. But Uncle Bill paced the floor, people went in and out of the room, eventually my mother appeared, smiling and happy to announce that a baby girl had been born.
Uncle Bill ran through the door to Aunt Mary; there was crying and tears of joy. My mother saw the ladies out and then took my hand, walked me into the back bedroom and sat me on the edge of the bed. “Mitchell this is Stacey”, I reached out to hold her hand, and she wrapped her hand round my finger. Uncle Bill leaned in and quietly said “be careful with her, she’s very delicate”. I looked up into the happiness filled eyes of my uncle and nodded; I will always be careful of her. It felt like I had been given a sacred duty, one that I was to carry for the whole of my life.
Uncle Bill helped me off the bed and took my hand walking me through to the kitchen. We sat on the table in silence, eating pie and drinking milk, before he stood up and said, “come on, let’s go down to the stream”. I loved walking with Uncle Bill, he would tell me about all the childhood adventures, he and my dad got up to. About running through the fields, climbing the tree’s, trying to catch fish with their hands. He would bring his paints and spare paper for me, we would sit by the water, I loved to watch Uncle Bill draw and paint, as I looked up at him, I hoped I would one day be as good as him.
The best times were when my brothers were home from school, my mother would drive us all out here, Mary would spoil us with treats, while Uncle Bill would take us running in the fields or teach us how to ride a bike. We would do all the things we couldn’t do in the city. Uncle Bill and Aunt Mary would often say the city is no place to raise the kids, my mum would sigh and shrug her shoulders, “but that’s where the business is, that’s where Ernist needs to be. Besides all the kids are away at school, so they’re only really in the city on holidays”. There was a kind of sadness in her eyes, one I didn’t understand.
At the other end of the village in a big farmhouse was Uncle Bill’s friend, Harry. I loved going to visit him, his house was always fun. My brothers and I would build camps, make bonfires, bows and arrows. We could run round late at night being as loud as we wanted with no neighbours to disturb, while Uncle Bill, Aunt Mary, Mum and Harry sat on the deck.
Harry was great fun; he would help us roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories. When my brother Paul had wanted to learn guitar, Harry had got him his very own and they would sit practicing for hours. But Paul was always sad he had to leave his guitar behind until the next time because Dad wouldn’t have liked him playing it. He saw it as a waste of time. Not long after Paul started school, he received a package in the post, left on his bed in the dorm room. When he opened it there was a new guitar, there was no name as to where it came from, but he didn’t have to guess. Now Paul could practice while at school without Dad knowing. And when we came out during the holidays he could show Uncle Harry what he had learnt.
As Stacy and Seb got older, they would sit on the porch at the adults’ feet playing while we all ran round. One day while we were in a particularly wild game of touch football, there was a loud cry, my heart skipped and I turned to see Stacey at the bottom of the porch stairs crying, Uncle Bill and I took off running. When we got there, Aunt Mary was cradling Stacy, a bruise on her head and a scrape on her leg. She handed Stacy to Uncle Bill, and we sat on the swing seat calming her down, while she when to find a cloth. My mother had Seb by the hand, berating him loudly about pushing Stacey, this was not the first time.
