Story: Be a Helper (part six)

Be A Helper

(part six)

Bede was alone with Langham.

Langham opened: “Surprised all this fancywork hasn’t got the rot.”

Jorinda’s voice came, before Bede could think of a way to slip disagreement past Langham’s suspicious ear. “Help when you’re asked, Whimbrel. With hands and feet, mind.”

Ah, yes. Bede had a task of his own he could help with. “We’ve got some lovely scarves, mittens, hats, socks, and a shawl your wife might like…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Langham said. Like many who don’t want a thing they are being shown, he took a scarf and felt it over, with farm-stained fingertips. “What sort of colors are those?”

“Cheerful ones. They will have to be borne. But about that manure straw…”

“Can’t spare it, but I’ll let you rake out two of the stalls. No more.”

“When shall I be over?”

“When it suits you,” Langham said, with a certain unwarranted haughtiness.

Melchior having made his fire hot, the turnip slabs and the onions were caramelizing already in his courtyard below, with a tantalizing smell. Plates of bread and cheese began to arrive by a relay of sprites, who skipped for joy, and chattered. (One accident: Scoter, feet tangling for these antics, and crying, “Oh, plate, be safe!” had conjured a mysterious locked coffer.)

The cauldron of sunflower wine was warming at the hearth. Langham climbed Melchior’s stepladder to dip himself thirds.

Bede sipped his first broodily.

“Do those imps get their work done all right? Planting time be here soon.”

“Imps… Do you mean the sprites? Is that what you call a fair exchange?”

“Or not,” Langham said. “My straw goes as well in my own garden.”

They were buffeted now by the breeze of Melchior’s person. “Turnips! And whatnot!”

He settled the platter with another gust; Jorinda, behind him, cranked up the tureen of pea soup, by lift. Finch and Scoter clattered up the stairs, taking sides on a wheeled cart.

Doing that which was not clear, but soon joined in the effort by Bunting, Gadwall, and Whimbrel…

Melchior hoisted the soup over their heads, after swooping the cart and its five sprites to the sideboard.

“Cakes,” Jorinda said. “Go fetch them, please.”

“And the honey and the jam,” said Melchior. “But I’ll do that myself, the fetching. And Bunting, as lady of rank among us, will see to the dishing up.”

Bunting with a pleased flush did, in a trice, and surprisingly without hitch. The guests bent for her giving of the grace…or more they nodded, as their plates were piled to their chins.

Bless the Queen, and bless her court

And if she visits, keep it short

7

 a Helper

Be a Helper (part seven)

(2021, Stephanie Foster)