Dirty hands

the countryside in Wales is small. one Would one even spare a glance over it and reckon it would be a small town? People often wondered if it’s a town or villageThe word village” would be too big for such an unknown place? Travellers would often ride past the small homely community in the countryside.

because it was simply too far out to see from the rest of the world, hills and rivers were the peoples normal, the trees were like walls keeping the animals and the farm inside from the outside world. The houses and farms were minuscule compared to the massive trees and lakes; this was a mere fact of life.

They were wide and full. green sharp leaves fell in the wind carrying them to the unknown however the faint burning smell of old man Gray’s fire was a sight. Though he was gray and ageing he had always known hard work like it was his second head. Good honest work was all a man knew he would often say.

Gray was shoveling coal. It was a very common sight around the village folk so was his crooked smile Miss Ffion the eldest would work with her six sisters in the bakery. The sign was in desperate need of repair some might even say it was screaming for help, the handles that helped it hang on was loose which is why it swayed in the wind hanging on for dear life, luckily though the sisters were never short of customers seeing how the bakery was very local in the community whether it was to serve food or chat with old friends.

Mary was a beautiful big woman with strong arms; she would often be seen in the back creating sweet treats such as cakes welshcakes pancakes victoria sponge cake and much more with the little rations they had sometimes they would get lucky and Mary would bake three treats in one day but then there were other days where they had to cross them off with a pencil off the menu. The triplets were Anne Amber and Katie. They were small and frail; most of the time they would talk in whispers which wasn’t good for taking orders from customers but over the years the community had learned to accept their unique quirks. The woman with the fiery hair and blunt personality was Seren the second oldest she was in charge of collecting fire would from the vast forest if they scraped by enough the sisters could afford coal maybe a bag or two if they were really lucky but that didn’t seem to please seren no she wanted to see the fire burn, to smell the smoky wood and see the swirling smoke.

Alys was a bright girl that was practically born with a smile ever since she could walk the country folk would move out of the way as she wobbled to fall into the arms of her mother, a beautiful bell of a woman. Alys grew into a fine girl. She was always seen carrying a book or two in her arm. She loved poetry, stories that her mother would read to her and mysterious especially if they were unsolved. It was like berries before the wine. For her it could have been perfect.

When she wasn’t milking cows playing cards with her mother and the grown up in their small house rum and bread would be at the table they would all share whatever they had or feeding chickens.

Alys didn’t know it yet but she grew up in a community that was a family. Loving, tough and honest, the rations were low but the laughter never faded.

Her home was in the forest a little further away from the main spots where everyone greeted each other but both mother and daughter didn’t mind the walk, it was a cottage by a well glass square windows that shimmered its pixie lights it was always sunny in the forest which made it hard to look through the windows not that anyone would try to rob the place anyway Alys reckoned the only valuable thing in there would be the copper kettle or her mothers smelly socks which was knitted by old woman appleslum her and her husband worked at the woodshop alys would stop by to chat with them but nowadays they don’t come out anymore? One day when she went to return to a place she went to investigate if they were dead but luckily the smoke still filled out from the chimney.

Pearing through the window Mr Appleslum seemed sickly like a frog with a terrible cold still green but eyes were hollow and pained. Alys left the plate by the door along with some berries in a basket. Alys had never lost anyone before and truthfully she couldn’t bear to look at them so as she walked back home past the flowery green hills, the mucky river and towering trees, that night she prayed by her bed and prayed for them both.

The cottage had an unmistakable comically small dark wooden door that seemed like it was once a coffin for a teenage drunk in its past life. It was unflattering, the once gold knob was now spread with rust and most that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard they tried.

Alys mother was Eirwen Bowen was a singer a good one at that she would mostly sing at the stove while alys would sweep the floor the birds would sing along.

when spring came making bird houses with the other kids was a challenge Alys had no way to prepare for splinters stabbed through her calloused hands and her fingers had red lines where the blade accidentally made contact but in the end she had made the smallest crudest bird house any of them saw.

By the cottage where they lived. Out in the forest past the well Alys had a mother tree with swirling trunks that had different ranges of wood alys though it looked like a small door because she could stick her whole cold fair hand in there. Alys looked up and saw that the other kids Harri Arthur and Bryn were climbing up the tree.

Arthur was a boy possessed by science books and bugs, specifically the nature and bodies of different bugs.

The boy will tell the other kids facts from his books like a preacher. He loved them both equally but he loved science so much that his hair was as wild as nature. She thought he was dedicated to his passion so naturally Alys was his best friend. His crooked teeth spread in a dimpled smile which Alys happily returned. Clasping their hands together Arthur tried to lift her up, they sat together on the branch and tied the shoe lasses as rope for the birdhouses each child would tie the lasses to the branch and let them hang. Alys talked to them until the sun drooped down. Alys’ back felt the wind hit her in a way that made her hair fly in a crazy dance past her shoulders.

Aly’s ears found a life of their own when instead of hearing the clashes of wind against her ear she heard a melodic sing songy voice from below her “ Alys come down from there before you break your neck”. Looking down she saw the golden head of her mother standing there with her hands on her hips.

Alys smiled so much when she saw the flower on her mothers hand that could only mean good thing her nose scrunched up making her light freckles scrunch her hand stinged and yet she wasnt in pain well she was of course but Alys found that today had been wonderful.

Jumping down from the massive tree the spikey green leafs fell in swirls coating the grass in different colour leafs Alys knees hit the dirt from the ground along with her hands the smell of grass stuck to her, fixed her indigo dress and ran to grab her mothers soft hands with her callus ones.

The cottage door had to be tackled by Alys shoulder to open her mother had to duck her head to enter they both took their shoes at the door then they walked in. At the table Alys saw at the corner of her eye saw a daddy long legs which eased the tension in her shoulders they were harmless, Alys soaked her hands over the cold water then shaked her hands and whipped them on her dress she grabbed two plates and placed thin slices of bread and a handful of grapes they had picked yesterday on the plate.

Her mother gathered two glasses and filled them with clear fresh water that came from the mountains. Alys placed down the plates when she saw a six leggeged black hideous thing? A spider. Screaming in shock she raised her arm in a fist and brought it down to end the nasty thing once and for all, Eirwen grabbed her daughter’s arm with a speed that could match the greeks god because this caused Alys to stumble before catching her feet and looking up at the woman who raised her ‘ mam?’.Alys always spoke with a passionate pronunciation but now she showed none of that now it seemed her face was set in an expression that could mirror a puzzle. confused and unsolvable.

Her mother sighed “ you shouldn’t be cruel to the poor things,they are good for getting rid of bugs” with a frown Alys opened her mouth to speak but as she tried the hairy thing crawled off the wooden round table. Alys grumbled “ I know that mam but they are just so disgusting and gross I couldn’t help but try to get rid of it? Do you know how much venom they hold mam?” Eirwen let go of her daughter when she saw the little thing escape she turned and tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes she knew her daughter was going to go on and on “ Oh please Alys the real nasty things are the people who hide behind money and always wears a top hat when there really isn’t an occasion for it”.

Alys stuck up her nose in the air as she sat down on the wooden chair “ it could have killed me you know mam, then I couldn’t help you tomorrow? ” she muttered under her breath. “Hush now and eat your food Alys if you keep talking you’ll be overcome with hycopes besides they expire today so id hurry if i were you”.

Alys snapped her head towards her mother, her eyes sparkling with the familiar intrigue of a mystery, however small her mother knew what she was doing. “ That’s ridiculous, they don’t seem out of ordinary? There’s no evidence to support it? Are you perhaps intending to fatten me up so I might become a swine? and sell me as a pig in the fair? Because there are many errors in your plan mam”. The smugness in her daughter’s voice did not go unnoticed by her mother, in fact it merely seemed to amuse her.

Smiling, her mother merely said” look closer”. She spotted her water being intentionally vague.

This caused the girl to pause glancing at her plate she considered her mams words? Could she have missed something? The colour wasn’t faded and the grapes didn’t have an odour? Was this some sort of mind game? What if her mother was tricking her then this would have all been for nothing. She felt around each grape, none of them promising to answer her question, that was until she felt something at the last one hiding behind her bread for shelter against her monstrous mouth. Squinting her eyes she almost missed it. It seemed normal but it was the last thing she didn’t look at. She couldn’t close the case without looking at every and any corner? That’s simply not how it’s done.

Shooting up from the chair the movement made the wood scream and wobble it shook until it got its bearing Alys reached behind the bread feeling the smooth surface of the dark violet skin of the grape it didn’t have an imperfection not a flaw. That was until she stopped her fingers on one spot on the small juice filled thing. It was just a corner at the lower part that was slightly going mushy, placing it back on the plate she met her mothers eyes “ how did you know? Did you inspect them at night when I was resting? Is that why your candle has more waxy drips than usual? Are you trying to frame me for a fool?.she asked conservatively she wasn’t made well maybe a little but mostly she was curious? There had to be a way her mother knew about it?because the picture her mother is making Alys out to see is that she could easily figure it out with a quick glance the grapes were identical it was impossible to do that alys was sure of it.

“ oh, sort yourself out Alys, mams know everything or have you forgotten that? Maybe you should consider wising up?”. The snark was enough to make the birds on the open windowsill fly away with a flutter.

At this moment Alys saw her mother face resemble a sly smiling fox her features morphing into large ears and a black noise her imagination did nothing to help shaking her head her mothers smiling didnt ease, maybe thats why some people called her a vixen most would assume it was for her mothers beauty but Alys know the truth. Behind that smile and wonderful singing voice was a woman Alys could never win against. She was smart, frustratingly so but that’s what made it fun? Sure it wasn’t normal daughter mother bonding but Alys supposed neither of them fitted the description of ‘normal’ they were both messy in their own ways. Alys thought about what she was going to say? What could she say to rail her mother back into the conversation? Then it clicked “ humour me mam just for a moment of your time? How could a person possibly solve a mystery”. Questions were a pathway of multiple answers and responses. jackpot.

“ you mean grapes “. she interjected “ fine” Alys responded “ how could one person possibly find a difference in a grape out of a lot that seemed to grow from the same bush?. She nippled on her bread, her eyes going up to see if she would respond when she swallowed.

“ Is it so hard for you to believe what I say is true?”. Her mother leaned forward “ of course it is? a poppy can’t grow in the desert sands and a person can’t solve a complex problem with a mere glance. It takes research and investigation passion”. then what about doctors hmmm? Riddle me that?” Eirwen interrupted.

Alys spluttered “ t-that is-that doesn’t count because that is their profession and they are prepared for it”. “ Maybe so but they don’t decide who visits them? Or what the cause is? Which debuncts your theory dear.

Silence stretched between them like a newly made spiderweb, silent and uncomfortable.

Alys finished eating and automatically like she was birthed with built in instructions cleared off the table while she moved her feet she couldn’t resist leaving one last remark. Maybe it was because she lost or maybe it was because she had trouble getting over things that interest her. “ Did you really not look at the grapes beforehand?” she mumbled.

Eirwen shook her head and walked to the cabinet and pulled out a cloth to clean the table. The two worked in a more comfortable silence than before.

When the night came Alys was on her bed her black hair was being braided by her mothers slender fingers. Falling asleep didn’t last long. Eirwen brushed her daughter’s bangs away from her eyes and slipped out of their room. She lit the candle, placed it down on the table and closed all the windows. Then when everything was concealed and dark she started to write as the candle droop-ted and glowed it was silent the wall only casted shadows but no murmurs her handkerchief never left her side.

Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow she will try harder. In the meantime her fingers were stained with ink.