Somehow, Mr. Hemingway thought it would be a brilliant idea for the two new members of the family to explore the back field. The very same back field with tall grass, swampy potholes, and several species of peculiar insects. It was impossible to trek through the place without protective gear, lest the vengeful ants strike, leaving red welts in their wake.
But, of course, because they were teenagers, the McLeods wore no such protection. They went in their shorts and tanks tops, ideal summer wear, with only rubber flip-flops to guard their feet and a bit of bug spray.
"Are you sure this is safe?" Vince inquired for the twenty-seventh time, sweeping stalks of grass away. "I feel something crawling on my leg."
En rolled a blue raspberry lollipop between her burgundy lips. "It's just the plants," she assured, flicking a ladybug off her shirt. "There's some weeds near the bottom. No poison ivy though, so don't worry."
The sun hung high above their heads, a dapple of clouds diminishing its intensity. Hawks soared along the trees further down, cicadas let their piercing racket cut the air, and the wind rustled the long stems around them. A warm, sweaty taste surrounded the group as they walked through the field.
Hayden turned back, just as they neared their destination—a run-down wooden cabin sitting in the midst of the open grounds. "Over here, we have the Outhouse!" He held his hands out towards it, patting the splintering outside. "This old bud has been around since the 18th Century and is still standing strong." He jolted back abruptly. "Ow! I got a wood chip!"
"Is it really that old?" Karen asked with genuine curiosity and an expression that showed she was more curious about the speaker than the spectacle.
Hayden actually looked guilty. "No, I was kidding," he said, trying to pull the splinter out of his finger with his teeth. "It's only a couple of years old."
"You idiot." En shoved him aside brusquely, mounting the steps up to the Outhouse.
Contrary to its name, it was not a toilet. It was actually a one and a half-storey house that had once belonged to Mr. Hemingway before disuse and dilapidation made him toss it away. Luckily, the McLeod children found good use for it as their hangout place. The inside was strewn with colourful bean bags, PSPs, and crushed juice boxes. A stair case along one wall led up to a landing that only covered half the roof. A net stretched across the other half, serving as a giant hammock for anyone who wanted to hang precariously from there. This was the only structure on the property not full of metal figurines.
Marie plopped down at the table, rummaging beneath for the black paper and white pastel she kept under it. "What should I draw?" She located them and held the two up expectantly.
"Draw the mosque down the corner," Derek suggested, settling into an orange bean bag on the stairs. He produced a metal fidget spinner from his pocket and gave it a flick.
"Can I go up there?" Vince asked, excited eyes on the upper level netting. A gleeful smile brightened his face like stars did the night.
"Of course!" Hayden mirrored his smile. "What about you, gingersnap?"
Karen shook her head, hugging herself. "I'll pass."
Two shrugs later, the boys stepped around Derek and made their way to the hammock. It dipped under their weight, making them both giggle nervously. Vince crawled to the bookshelf by the landing while Hayden peered out the small windows.
"Are you afraid of heights?" En inquired quietly, sitting next to Karen.
When she nodded, their bare shoulders brushed against each other. "Yeah," she whispered, "a little." She picked one of the stray PSPs up, turning it on.
CZYTASZ
When the Clouds Fell
Science Fiction"When did the clouds fall?" "The day the sun was blown out of their sky." Karen and Vince always thought they were the strangest people on Earth. She could make plants grow from nothing. He could control the wind. There was no way anything could be...
