People have talent. It’s a law of nature that a person should be good at something, and Charlie was good with her fists. However this particular talent of hers didn’t seem to be much good in this one particular situation. Charlie was running through The Market, leaping and sidestepping to avoid colliding with piles of produce and bunches of people. Speed was of the essence. She ducked ad weaved all the while keeping her hands close to her chest. She was protecting something precious. Her heart pounded! Heart breathing was ragged! Charlie took a left by a bowl shop and then a sharp right after a snake charmer. Still sprinting full speed, Charlie crashed through a tower of tomatoes and nearly tripped over a squealing piglet. She must keeping running! Cries of protest were completely ignored. Charlie didn’t pause but chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. There seemed to be no one following her. Charlie slowed her pace. Sighing with relief, the guilty girl looked forward again and – BANG!

 

Tarquin howled with pain!

“Tarquin! Pay attention!” Dave yelled.

Tarquin hopped up and down on the spot whimpering, holding his left thumb which was swollen and purple.

“Second time today Tarquin!” Dave shook his head and picked up the offending hammer that slipped and struck Tarquin’s thumb.

“I’m sorry Dave...” Tarquin mumbled. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and coated his pulsing digit with cool saliva. Tarquin shut his eyes and enjoyed the soothing relief, but not for long. Dave reached across to Tarquin as if to rub his shoulder but suddenly slapped him upside the head!

“Yowch!” Tarquin yelped. He rubbed his sore head and glared bitterly at Dave.

“Suck it up and enjoy the pain!” Dave growled, “you lose focus and that’s what happens.”

Tarquin grumbled and sat down hard on a wicker chair. Dave moved towards his desk and pulled out the first aid drawer. “Tools are not just pieces of metal Tarquin! You must use them wisely and carefully. Treat them with respect otherwise they will turn against you.”

Tarquin winced as Dave roughly dressed his swollen finger. “So tell me, what’s on your mind?”

Tarquin looked up, “What do you mean?”

Dave raised his eyebrows and said, “You honestly expect me to believe something’s not bothering you?” Tarquin stared at the floor. “You dropped your hammer Tarquin. You don’t do that.”

“Maybe I’m just a bad woodworker...”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve never known anyone in my life to have more skill with his hands!” Dave exclaimed! He grabbed Tarquin’s hands and faced them palms up. “These hands! Your hands! They have such a power that even I can’t claim to equal.” Dave then pushed Tarquin away. “So don’t you say that you can’t work wood.” Tarquin looked at Dave and felt a surge of appreciation towards the rough but caring man. “Now really, what’s on your mind?” Dave asked again.

Tarquin sighed and answered, “I’m almost done. It’s almost finished and I don’t know how I’ll tell Gwen.”

“You haven’t told her?” Dave asked quietly. Tarquin shook his head and braced himself for an explosion.

Dave sighed, “I expected just as much.”
Tarquin snapped his eyes open and looked up sharply. “What? No lecture?” he asked cheekily.

“As if that does any good!” Dave snorted with derision, “No Tarquin, if you don’t’ tell your mother today I’ll burn it.”

Tarquin gasped, “Dave you wouldn’t!”

“I’m serious Tarquin. I only let you make it under strict terms that you would tell your mother and you didn’t. You break our contract, I break your project.” Dave looked straight into Tarquin’s curious eyes which were shiny and looked ready let loose torrents of tears.

“Dave no! After all that work? Time? Splinters?” Tarquin tried a joke but Dave didn’t budge.

“Tell her tonight other it’s gone.”

Tarquin hung his head in defeat. “Alright,” he replied finally, “I’ll tell her tonight.”

Dave stood up, happy he had gotten his way, and ruffled Tarquin’s unfashionably short hair. Of course he would never have burnt it, it was far too beautiful, but Tarquin didn’t have to know. Dave silently chuckled to himself, the boy was such an air head sometimes.

 

Charlie’s head felt like it was full of air when she clambered back onto her feet. She had run straight into a wooden pole! Charlie raised her hand to her forehead and felt a bump already rising. She groaned and swayed before she fell again. Dazed, Charlie looked around blearily and sighted about 3 or 4 boys who looked exactly the same, all silently laughing at her. Each one point and crinkled their eyes in perfect unison. It was disturbing! They all looked about nine years old, and quite small for their ages, and each one had a single beauty spot right above their lip on the left side. It was so utterly disturbing! Charlie frowned and blinked a few times, but suddenly leapt backwards as the three or four little boys merged into one! Then Charlie realized there only ever was one boy! Charlie smiled at her own stupidity and relaxed for a second. But then she snapped back to the child. Charlie marched over to him and raised a fist, “You tell anyone about that and I’ll make sure you never tell anyone anything again!” The little boy had warm chocolate colored eyes that twinkled as though he was forever enjoying some secret joke. His lips were as bright as cherries and his fit of silent giggles had caused his cheeks to turn a similar color. However Charlie’s last comment made his face drop and he adopted a stony expression. “Did you hear me?” Charlie threatened with her fist again, “Say something!”

“He can’t.”

Charlie jumped back, startled by the sudden appearance of another boy, well more likely man. He was probably about two or three years older than Charlie and held a remarkable resemblance to the mute child. “He was born not able to talk.” The older boy put his arm around, clearly, his younger brother. “I am Nathan and he is called Jerome. I just say Jerry though. Who are you?” Nathan asked seriously.

Charlie stood unable to speak from shock and guilt combined. Jerry was amused by the mean girl’s lack of speech. She deserved it though, threatening him and nearly punching him! She was pretty though. The mean girl had a round face and pouting lips. Her nose was dotted with a few freckles and she had brown and green eyes. Hazel they call it. Her eyebrows were bushy! Scary looking like her hair. Her hair! It was so pretty! She had brown curls; they looked so curly and so bouncy. Jerry just wanted to pull one and make it boing! However pretty she looked though, Jerry knew he wouldn’t like to have her fist in his face.

“I’m Charlie.” She finally stuttered.

But Charlie’s a boy’s name! Jerry conveyed this message to Nathan through a few rapid hand gestures. Nathan repeated Jerry’s exclamation out loud. Charlie narrowed her eyes and stepped towards the brothers.

“Well now it’s a girl’s name!” Charlie watched the little one, Jerry, do his hand movements again. That must be the way Jerry and his brother communicated, she though.

“Jerry says that you’re quite scary for a girl.” Nathan smiled at his brother’s nerve.

Charlie wanted to make a sharp retort but looking at Jerry’s pretty mouth and thinking that not a single sound will ever come out of it made her stop. His solemn face was contradicted by his merry mischievous eyes and Charlie could only feel compassion and friendship for the little angel. Charlie bent down so she could look Jerry face to face and said,

“Sometimes I have to be Jerome.”

Jerry wrinkled his nose as if there was some odor and wagged his finger. Nathan translated, “He says don’t call him Jerome. Call him Jerry.”

Charlie looked straight into Jerry’s eyes, “Jerry it is then.”

On a sudden impulse Jerry reached out two fingers and pulled up Charlie’s lips into a huge distorted grin. Nathan laughed at Jerry’s antics and said, “He says he thinks you need to smile more.”

Charlie cracked up and surprisingly revealed a melodious laugh. “Jerry, I think you and me are going to be good friends.” Charlie smiled and stood up straight, “Good to meet you Nathan.” she stated formally. Charlie glanced up and noted the sun was starting to dip. Panic gripped her chest; she had to get home! Without even giving Nathan a chance to reply, Charlie sped off, frantic to get back, and by the time she realized she had dropped what she had been holding close to her heart, it was too late!

 

“Late!” exclaimed Gweneth, “both of you!” Charlie and Tarquin stood sheepishly in front of their mother, neither one daring to look up. “And the state you arrive in!” Gweneth continued to rant on, “Tarquin with a bandaged thumb, only the gods know what damage you inflicted on it!” Charlie sniggered as Tarquin awkwardly tried to cover his hands. Gweneth rounded on her daughter next, “And you Charlotte! You look like your growing another head judging by the size of that lump!” It was Tarquin’s turn to sneer at his sister’s embarrassment. “Did I not say be home 2 hours before dusk? Did I not?!” Gweneth didn’t wait for an answer, “Then could you two explain why you only come through the door when the sun is half way down!!” The slender woman glared at her two children fiercely. Tarquin started to say,

“Well -” but Gweneth screeched,

“I don’t want to hear it!!” She ran her fingers through her sleep brown hair and tried to calm down. “Charlie, Tarq, I want you to go to your rooms. Go to your rooms and stay there! Stay there and be quiet! I need. I need to calm down. I need to cook. So I am going to cook. And while I cook, I need you two to do me a favor and GET OUT!” Charlie and Tarquin raced not to be the last one out the room, who knew what their mother might throw when she was this angry.

“What happened to your hand cripple?” Charlie asked cheerfully once they were out of earshot.

“None of your business two heads” Tarquin replied mockingly. He looked back curiously at his sister and asked, “Why were you late anyway?”

Charlie hesitated before saying, “I had a fight with a pole and ran into some trouble with a mute midget who poked my face.”

Tarquin raised his eyebrows and answered sarcastically, “Well aren’t you the friendly type.”

Charlie made a face and jabbed at Tarquin’s stomach. Charlie tried not to wince on impact’ Tarquin seemed to have learnt Charlie’s favorite poke spots and was building up his abdominals, so much that Charlie felt she had just slammed her finger into rock. She even wondered if she had broken a nail! “Well what about you? What’s your story?” Charlie asked, discreetly nursed her finger. Tarquin smiled broadly, “I just finished a project at the shop!”

Now Charlie was the one raising her eyebrows, “Sorry, what was your story? I fell asleep after you said I.”

Tarquin rolled his eyes and concocted a story, “I set up a stall in The Market for juggling hammers, hence the mangled thumb.” He hoped this sated Charlie’s thirst for dramatics. It seemed to have done the trick as she abruptly turned into her room and shut the door. Tarquin shook his head, that sister of his baffled him beyond belief. As Tarquin headed towards his own room, anxiety started to gnaw at his belly. How would he break the news to his mother? There was no apparent reason for her to disapprove, but still, Tarquin had a feeling she would not take to it well. Tarquin’s feelings were usually very accurate, even when he was a boy he learned to listen to that innate sense. A few years ago, when John Harris had yielded his first crop of watermelons, everyone rushed to buy themselves one of the large juicy fruit. However, Tarquin just had a feeling that his family shouldn’t take one. He cried and bawled when they were at the booth that Gweneth had to take him home to avoid further embarrassment. The next day almost all of the population of Manzi was ill with food poisoning as a worm had gotten to all the watermelons and gave everyone terrible bowel irritation. Here was another one of Tarquin’s feelings, that his mother just wouldn’t be pleased with his announcement. Tarquin sat down on his floor and hugged his pillow tightly. He started to trace the knots in the wood on his floor. His fingers already knew most of the paths for Tarquin would always absorb himself in his floor when something troubled him. His thumb quietly throbbed, making a beat in Tarquin’s mind. Tarquin nodded his head to the imaginary beat and set a rhythm for himself as he traced the floor’s grooves. After a sufficient amount of time, Tarquin came to a conclusion. He would have to tell her, tonight, after dinner. He couldn’t let Dave destroy it, not his dream. Firmly decided, Tarquin hugged his pillow even tighter, for now he could nothing but wait.