Heavy

“Hey, Father! … Hey, Brother Grace! Hey, Brother Jacqueline! … Hey, Brother Ross!”

Standing on a patch of level ground a little above the stream’s pebbly bank, young Nina rose on her tiptoes and waved with all her might as soon as she spotted Wu Qingchen—Ross—and his companions.

Beside the enthusiastic little girl lay the family’s “beds” and “quilts”—a great heap of wheat straw spread out across the sunlit clearing, basking in the purifying rays of the afternoon.

“There, we’re home…” Having already taken the lead, old William quickened his pace even further as they arrived. “Come on, everyone, hurry up, get everything inside!”

Whether it was scrubbing down the furniture or washing up, William’s opinion was always the same: sure, these things made you feel a little better, but they cost time. And time, especially during the busiest days of summer, was infinitely more precious than a fleeting sense of comfort.

If it hadn’t been for the steward and the pastor excusing the family from this year’s summer labor, William would never have agreed to let Wu Qingchen and Nina waste precious hours cleaning out the old house. If Ross hadn’t borrowed three of the lord’s oxen to help with their work, William would never have permitted more time be spent opening holes in the old house’s walls. If Ross hadn’t gotten the job as herdsman, William certainly wouldn’t have let go of the rotting ancestral furniture in the old house. And if Ross hadn’t managed to borrow a whole group of serfs from the lord, William wouldn’t have dared imagine the family dragging every stick of furniture out of the new house for a thorough scrubbing, airing the bedding under the sun, and sweeping out every room in one grand operation.

Again and again, one unexpected “if not for…” after another had battered down William’s well-guarded boundaries. Life in the family was improving by the day, and in all his tireless vigor, William had failed to notice that the center of gravity in the Moore household had quietly shifted toward Wu Qingchen.

The afternoon’s plan of work was the clearest sign: with the sun still high and the day not nearly done, Wu Qingchen had easily persuaded his father and brothers to take the path home early.

If not for Wu Qingchen’s great contributions to the household lately, and the subtle way he’d assumed the right to speak, in any other year, during the peak of the farming season when every minute was precious, any son who dared suggest coming home early would have found his ladle coming up short at supper!

Reaching the bank of the stream, William bent and hefted four stools onto his shoulder, then clasped his hands around a round table and barked to his sons, “Come on, all of you, get over here!”

Time was precious; any bit saved was a victory in itself. Though he had agreed—albeit reluctantly—to Wu Qingchen’s plan for sweeping and washing, William was still keen to save as much time as possible. With so many serfs pitching in, perhaps, just perhaps, after the house was in order, there might be a moment left to tend the cabbages and peas next to the big house before dusk fell.

William’s thoughts churned as he set the stools and table down by the house.

“Oh, William, what’s all this, bringing everything outside?”

Following the sloping path once more down to the stream, William turned at the sound of a distant voice. From the hillside they’d just crossed, a middle-aged villager appeared, a huge bundle of hay on his back, grinning broadly.

“Oh, it’s Wayne… Well, Ross insisted on washing these things. Said that… said that…”

Here William’s voice faltered. Ross had said, “A little cleanliness is good for people and for the livestock too—makes everyone less likely to fall ill.” To be honest, William didn’t quite believe it. Even before Ross started learning from the pastor, he’d already picked up the lordly habit of daily washing—face, teeth, clothes and all.

William suspected this unexpected cleaning spree was just another of Ross’s fancies for living like the gentry. But of course, none of that could be said to Wayne, who was carrying his own heavy load of hay.

Ross was now the herdsman! He could heal cattle! The steward, the bailiff, and the pastor all looked out for him! So what if Ross had picked up the gentry’s ways? Who said Ross couldn’t? Who said he couldn’t become the pastor’s apprentice, or maybe even a steward someday?

When Ross first began to imitate the gentry, the village had found it a source of amusement, and William himself had laughed about it more than once with his other sons. But now, both William and his sons had tacitly forgotten everything they’d said. From the moment the steward and the pastor announced Ross’s new position, anyone in Eclery who dared mock Ross for emulating the gentry would have to answer to the Moore men—and might just lose a few teeth for their trouble!

As for Ross’s original words—“A little cleanliness is good for people and livestock, makes everyone less likely to fall ill”—that was certainly not something to share with Wayne. William barely believed it himself, but what if it was true? What if it really did help, even just a little? Why give away that secret for nothing?

William’s mind raced, and before Wayne had taken more than a few steps, a perfectly sound reason had formed. “The Rodriguez family had terrible luck, all those cattle hurt at once… Ross says it’s a curse, and anything from their house is cursed as well! The only way to break it is to let the sun purify everything. It’s cost our family a whole afternoon!”

“Goodness, you can’t be too careful!” Wayne exclaimed. “Ross is always at the chapel, praying and listening to sermons—must have been the pastor who taught him that! And the pastor never gets things wrong…”

“William, looks like you really have your hands full. Let me give you a hand…” By now, Wayne had reached the stream, set down his load of hay, and picked up a few farm tools from the riverbank.

“No, no, I can’t let you do that!” William spun around in alarm. “This stretch of sun is perfect for haymaking—you ought to tend to your own work!”

“Ah, it’s nothing! If Ross hadn’t healed the village oxen, none of us would have the luxury to care about the weather—we’d all be out on the common dragging the plow!” With a laugh, Wayne shouldered the tools and strode toward William’s new house. “Since it’s time Ross won back for all of us, helping out is the least I can do!”

“But… but…” William stammered, at a loss, “You have so much work to do, it really isn’t right…”

“Ha! William, don’t overthink it…” Wayne suddenly leaned closer, his face taking on a hint of mischief, and lowered his voice, “William, my ox still isn’t quite well from its last injury. I was hoping Ross might take another look when he has a moment…”

“Oh… oh…”