11 views
Tipingee
Household tyranny over the minor offered the former bride little revenge. Tipingee scoured floors, scrubbed dishes, skinned onions, ripped weeds, chopped wood, and hammered fences. Her stepmother, the former bride, having perfected the art of selfishness kept everything they earned she kept for herself.
Trays of sweetmeats met easy money at the market. Alone in the kitchen, her stepmother bustled around, tending to the pot above the fire. Only as the day progressed, the fire dwindled. The flames heaved into spark-less ash. The cooking stopped.
“Dreaded drats! Wood! Wood! I demand wood!” The louder she shrieked, the quieter the house remained, for Tipingee was at school.
Her voice waned under the shrill of her demands. Enraged, she grabbed her coat and cracked the door frame slamming the door behind her. She stomped the desolate pathways behind the house searching for wood. Snipped twigs and starved sticks cluttered the walkways, yet each was vacant of robust logs and stout branches.
She trudged on until she entered what appeared to be a vacant field. Her feet celebrated. Mounds of pre-cut logs almost stubbed them. Having entered firewood paradise, she wanted all of it. Only firewood paradise offered more wood than she could carry. Even more, than Tipingee could carry. She searched for a new plan.
The road cutting across the North end of the field met traffic and un-hired help. Well, if it had travelers but it didn’t so she returned to the field. Not knowing what else to do, yet doing what she did best, she tightened her fists. She yelled and screamed. “Help! Now! I mean it!”
A man appearing more ancient than old appeared before her. “You called.”
“You!” she exclaimed. “How can someone older than time itself have the strength or capacity to carry such a load?”
He tapped the wood three times.
Mounds of strewn wood turned into piles of stacked wood. Again, he raised his walking stick. The stick struck the ground once. The piles of wood leaped to his back.
The payment he asked, striding towards her house.
Hired help she hadn’t considered. She thought about her deceased husband’s belongings and her secret money stash. Then, she thought about Tipingee.
An eerie smile cracked her face. “Follow me. We will settle at the house.”
As agreed, behind her house stood giant...
Trays of sweetmeats met easy money at the market. Alone in the kitchen, her stepmother bustled around, tending to the pot above the fire. Only as the day progressed, the fire dwindled. The flames heaved into spark-less ash. The cooking stopped.
“Dreaded drats! Wood! Wood! I demand wood!” The louder she shrieked, the quieter the house remained, for Tipingee was at school.
Her voice waned under the shrill of her demands. Enraged, she grabbed her coat and cracked the door frame slamming the door behind her. She stomped the desolate pathways behind the house searching for wood. Snipped twigs and starved sticks cluttered the walkways, yet each was vacant of robust logs and stout branches.
She trudged on until she entered what appeared to be a vacant field. Her feet celebrated. Mounds of pre-cut logs almost stubbed them. Having entered firewood paradise, she wanted all of it. Only firewood paradise offered more wood than she could carry. Even more, than Tipingee could carry. She searched for a new plan.
The road cutting across the North end of the field met traffic and un-hired help. Well, if it had travelers but it didn’t so she returned to the field. Not knowing what else to do, yet doing what she did best, she tightened her fists. She yelled and screamed. “Help! Now! I mean it!”
A man appearing more ancient than old appeared before her. “You called.”
“You!” she exclaimed. “How can someone older than time itself have the strength or capacity to carry such a load?”
He tapped the wood three times.
Mounds of strewn wood turned into piles of stacked wood. Again, he raised his walking stick. The stick struck the ground once. The piles of wood leaped to his back.
The payment he asked, striding towards her house.
Hired help she hadn’t considered. She thought about her deceased husband’s belongings and her secret money stash. Then, she thought about Tipingee.
An eerie smile cracked her face. “Follow me. We will settle at the house.”
As agreed, behind her house stood giant...
