Defective (7 page)

The Landlord
brought the horses up hard when he spotted her. He held the reins
in one hand and swiped the other over and down his mouth and chin.
He took a deep breath. He didn’t remember ever seeing this one
before.

Maybe, he thought
as he steered his horses into the yard, she’s been keeping her away
from me. Naughty, naughty. He smiled then. He’d see to her. And the
girl.

It had worked,
Titania marveled. The Landlord hadn’t seen her scarred face. He had
seen what she had seen in the rain barrel. Beauty.

Her family was
another matter. No matter how hard she tried to will the change for
them, she failed every time. They couldn’t see it. Neither could
the Constable. Although the Constable, Titania had noticed, only
seemed to have eyes for Porkchop in those days anyway.

She stepped into
the house, hoping that Pater hadn’t returned. He hadn’t. She put
Mixer down on the floor and sat at the table.

What had happened
with Pater when he was sick still weighed on her mind. It was
obvious from how he’d reacted that he’d seen someone other than
her, but she had no recollection of a change happening. With the
Landlord, even without confirmation in a mirror, she’d always felt
it happen. At first she’d passed it off as a result of his fever
but ever since he recovered whenever she looked at Pater in a
particular way he would do whatever she asked.

___

Since they arrived
Narrow had spent countless hours sketching the farm and the route
they’d taken to get here. He had a similar map of the orchard
rolled up in his pack.

He thought a lot
about Pa and the trips he used to take. He’d head out early on his
two-wheeler with a small wooden cart attached to the main shaft and
disappear up the road. Narrow would watch him from the bedroom
window upstairs and wish he could go with him. Pa called them his
hunting trips but he almost never came home with something they
could eat. Instead, he’d cart home containers of all shapes, sizes
and colours; clothing; furniture; wheels. Whatever the family
needed, Pa could usually find. It wasn't always an exact match but
whatever he found was always put to good use. Narrow had learned a
lot from Pa about how to take things apart and put them back
together.

Narrow had
explored the furthest of any of his brothers or sisters, even Bull
and Jones who sometimes had to go miles before finding game. He
loved every minute of it. At the orchard his time had been spent
cleaning equipment, pruning trees, harvesting fruit, weeding, or
doing a hundred other small chores. And there had always been Ma
and the switch if he set one toe past the tree line. He had few
responsibilities here and a whole new world to discover.

It was Narrow
who’d discovered the second outhouse camouflaged behind a stand of
red birch trees close to the reed beds. He also fixed the
eavestroughing of the second, black cistern he found at the back of
the barn. The dark colour absorbed the sun's heat and even after
the coldest nights, the water often remained unfrozen and sometimes
even lukewarm.

He was the one
who’d followed the creek until it straightened out then ran
parallel with the far end of the unploughed field before curving
away and dropping off an embankment to the valley below. On the
edges of the field, Narrow had also picked out evidence of
previously dug rainwater diversion channels.

Eventually, he
ventured off the property entirely. Some days he turned left on the
road out of the farm, sometimes right. At Porkchop’s order he was
careful and always followed the main road, noting smaller roads and
paths that veered off it. Those would be explored another day.
Every now and then he’d stop and sketch new details on his map.

When the heavy
snows and freezing rain began he’d been kept inside, ordered by
Porkchop to help her sort out the mess of crates and equipment in
the barn. But then the thaw came.

That morning he
got up with Bull and Jones, leaving Porkchop still snoring beside
Santa. After filling their water containers and grabbing some food,
his brothers had disappeared into the woods. Narrow headed for the
road and when he got there, veered left and headed for Honey Hill
in the distance.

By mid-morning,
Narrow had reached its base. The area was covered in honeysuckle
bushes. When he reached the flat top of the hill, he had a new
appreciation for what the Constable had told him. One side narrowed
upwards to an edge that had some scrubby bush plants clinging to
its top. It looked as though a giant had punched off the top half
of the hill face.

He sat down on the
edge of the plateau, his back to the ragged cliff, and swiped his
long curly hair away from his face. Porkchop, unlike Ma, didn't
care about the length of his hair. The air was cool and fresh and
the sun was warm. The view was like nothing he'd ever seen before.
After several moments, he realized that he was holding his breath
and slowly let it out. Pine forest coated the land in a dozen
shades of green. He took out his map and some charcoal and
drew.

The sun was almost
overhead by the time Narrow put away his things, slung his pack on
his back and started up the incline to the top. The climb was
almost vertical in spots and Narrow had to grab hold of whatever
roots and rocks he could to keep from sliding backwards. At the
top, he stood up straight and took in the sight.

He saw the farm;
saw Santa get water from the front cistern and Porkchop as she
stomped around in the back field. Then his eyes took it all in.
Beyond the farthest edge of the field the land dropped away into
Spoon Valley. Pa had been right; from this height it really did
look like a big serving spoon. A mix of spruces, firs, pines,
maples and birches lined the sides. The valley rounded at the
north, stopped by a line of trees that spread out and up, but
opened up at the south end. And somewhere, he knew, on the other
side of the valley was the orchard.

He looked down at
the road they’d taken last fall to reach the farm. He took out his
map, compared it with his new vantage point and made a few
corrective marks. He stood for a few minutes more on top of the
cliff, breathing in the smell of thawing dirt. He found an easier
path down the hill and, when he was almost at the bottom, found a
few cure-all plants growing off the side, their purple blossoms
long since dried up and its seed scattered. He wasn't sure if they
would still be any good but he dug up three of them to bring back
to Jelly.

___

Pater was on Honey
Hill that day as well. He'd crept out of the house while it was
still dark and reached the summit just as Narrow and his brothers
were waking up. He squatted down on the edge of the cliff, lit a
hand-rolled of dried herbs and grasses and watched the sun rise.
Pater wasn't a complicated man. He preferred to be alone. His
happiest moments were those when he didn't think at all.

But the children
had made him start thinking of the past, and he didn't like that.
Years ago, he'd fallen for a woman. When she told him she was
pregnant he got scared and accused her of sleeping with someone
else; that she was trying to trap him into looking after her and
her bastard. He'd run away and found work at a lumberman’s camp as
a cook but she eventually tracked him down.

She’d walked
quietly into the mess hall, her hand clutching that of the boy
beside her. She told him that she was dying, that a healer had told
her she didn't have long to live. She had coughed a lot.

His name, she’d
said, is Hap. As though she had rehearsed it, she continued. He's
your son. You have to take him. You must. There is no one else.
He'll get sent to a camp. He's too young, he's only five. You have
to take him. He’s a good boy.

Good boy, my arse,
thought Pater. Nine! If there's one thing he learned at that camp
was how to avoid that and he goes and has nine of 'em. He spat
herb-flecked sputum over the edge of the cliff. He wondered what
his son looked like now. Sometimes he thought he saw traits of him
in some of the children.

He'd been trying
to avoid thinking about Titania, too, but her sharp-nosed face kept
rising up in his mind's eye. She looked so much like her.

___

Porkchop walked
the furrows for hours. They were muddy and slushy and icy all at
the same time but she didn't care about their current state. She
was imagining their future. Methodically, she walked and walked,
looking down at her boots, listening to her feet as they sucked and
squelched through the mud.

Soon, the field
would be filled with corn and potatoes and onions. On top of what
they had brought with them they’d found all kinds of seeds in the
barn. Jelly and Forest had been plotting the vegetable grid for
weeks.

When the clouds
parted to let in the late afternoon sun, Porkchop raised her head
and looked about. She whipped around as a flash of light caught her
peripheral vision. She scanned the horizon, left to right, and
caught sight of PC Pierre on top of the hill in the distance. She
raised her arm in greeting but he had already turned away.

___

PC Pierre waited
to see if any of the children would appear but none did. All seemed
quiet on the farm; there were no obvious signs of trouble. The boys
were probably out hunting and the rest were either in the barn or
out back where he couldn’t see. He began his descent. Josephine was
grazing a ways down the road and he let her eat for a while longer
before harnessing her to the cart and continuing to the farm. He
had brought gifts for the children.

___

Bull and Jones had
been out for several hours without success. Bull had scented a few
animals but most had been too small to bother with. They had
decided to go back to the barn and try again after dusk. They were
almost there when Bull suddenly stopped. His nostrils flared.

"Deer," he said
quietly. "Off that way. Might be a bit."

Jones slid his
large hunting knife from the holster strapped to his thigh and
cocked his ear. After half an hour a stag appeared, its antlers
ripping apart the lower branches as it strode through them. Bull
looked back to his brother, but Jones had already disappeared.

He reappeared on
top of the animal, grabbing it around the neck with one arm, the
other gripping its antlers. He yanked its neck sharply and brought
the deer down so hard it shook the ground where Bull stood. There
was a single, strangled sound and it was over. The stag’s throat
was slit. Bull was impressed by his brother's skill. It would feed
them for weeks. Bull congratulated his brother.

"We’re going to
need help with this one," said Jones, wiping his knife clean with
leaves.

"Go and get the
others," he said. "I’ll stay and make up a stretcher."

___

PC Pierre had
heralded his arrival and as he and Josephine made their way across
the yard to the barn, the door swung open wide and Jelly, Jones,
Forest and Narrow came out running. They stopped when they saw him.
As the door was swinging shut, Porkchop emerged. She looked like
she had lost a little weight.

At first no one
said a word but Porkchop soon took charge and told the others to
go, she’d be right behind them. Her sisters and brothers followed
Jones into the forest.

"You’ve got good
timing," Porkchop said to the Constable. "Bull and Jones got a
deer. A big one. We need all the help we can get."

"I’ll follow you,"
he told her.

He steered
Josephine around to the back of the barn. He left her harnessed to
the cart then ran after the children.

___

When they reached
Bull, he’d already fashioned a stretcher by twining thin branches
and saplings together. Jelly lined it with the blanket she'd
brought and the boys rolled the animal onto it; Narrow swatted away
clods of snow and debris from its hide. The Constable arrived and
helped tie the animal to the stretcher.

PC Pierre and
Porkchop hefted the front of the stretcher, Bull and Forest the
back. Jelly guided their steps back to the barn. Santa was waiting
for them; Mixer watched as they lugged the huge animal into the
yard.

They all pitched
in, gutting, cleaning and salting. In the afternoon sunshine they
worked and talked. They filled the Constable in on what had
happened since they’d last seen him. Without Ma to shoo him away,
the children were more talkative than he’d ever known them to be.
He was surprised to hear Titania join in as well.

Narrow retold the
story of their arrival, exaggerating Pater’s movements for
laughs.

"How is Pater?" he
asked. "Where is he?"

"He’s fine. Out
somewhere," said Porkchop.

"He was pretty
sick this winter, though," said Jelly. "Bad fever."

"And raving like a
loon," Titania added.

"He’s going to
miss out on some great eats," said Jones, sniffing the air.

Santa had started
to cook. Titania’s goose roasted over the fire pit outside and
chunks of deer meat slowly stewed in a huge pot on the wooden
stove. Stomachs rumbled at the smell of meat and onions. PC Pierre
washed his hands of the deer's blood before he tended to
Josephine.

They were soon all
gathered around the table. The children were too busy eating to
hold a conversation over dinner but when they were done and Santa
had made raspberry mint tea, Narrow took up where’d left off in his
tales of Pater and the farm. He even ran to his pack in the loft to
dig out the drawing they’d found tacked to Pater’s door on their
first day.

"We stay out of
his way and he stays out of ours," Porkchop said with a shrug.

"So far, so good,
eh?" PC Pierre smiled.

Porkchop smiled
back, caught herself and looked down at her mug.

"Well then," said
the Constable, "since you didn’t get one, you deserve a proper
welcome."