Kingdom of Light Kingdom of Dark

Young Safford was out of bed and dressed in a flash. Two bare feet thudded across squeaky hall boards and down the stairs. At the bottom, the air was thick with the aroma of butter pancakes and warm rose syrup. These delightful scents mingled with done to a crisp bacon, fried eggs, and broiled mushrooms.

Burt called, “Morning Gran,” and settled onto the bench across from her.

“Morning dear,” her bright, full of love smile warmed his heart.

Pancakes were piled five high and drowned in liquid roses. He squeeed six slices of crackling bacon and four soft-boiled eggs beside the cakes, and topped them off with a heap of mushrooms.

Burt chopped through the cakes with his fork, added bits of bacon, egg and well cooked fungus. He steadied his hand and shoved the forkful of food into his mouth.

Helga’s fire green eyes popped open and her square jaw dropped down. “My, aren’t you the hungry one. She chuckled, “What are your plans after your chores are done, as if I have to ask?”

He laughed and bits of un-chewed pancake mixed with syrup sprayed out of his mouth.

Helga Chilten’s smile faded a little. “Mind your manners young man and don’t laugh with a mouth full of food.”

Burt swallowed before answering, “Sorry Gran. I’ll try my best not to let it happen again.”

Her smile returned, wider now than ever, “I know you will.”

He wanted to shove the food into his mouth and swallow without chewing or tasting. Burt knew this would only bring more scolding so he took his time. At long last breakfast was finished. The boy scraped the two plates into the pig food barrel. The dishes clattered together as he piled them in the grey Granite sink.

“Seeing as you’re in such an all fired hurry to do your chores, I’ll was the dishes. Run along now and tend to your doings.”

Burt smiled, gave his Gran a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. He mumbled, “Thanks,” rushed across the kitchen and shoved the door open. The boy raced across the yard to the old red barn. Hinges squeaked and wood protested as the door swung open. He called, “How are you this fine morning, Brossy,” to the one eyed, three horned brindle cow.

Things started to go wrong from the moment he opened the door. Old Brossy gave him a dirty look and mooed as if to say, “What took you so long?” More moos followed.

Burt grumbled, “I know, I know, you’re hungry and want to be milked. Sorry old cow I was so long in breaking my fast. I hope the state of your constitution is well this morning.”

 He scrambled up the creaky ladder to the overflowing hay mow and forked down several bundles. A dozen forkfuls of straw followed. A loud “Achoo,” broke the stillness of the morning. This was followed by a muttered, “Darn straw dust.”

It took several minutes to remove last night’s cow bedding and replace it with fresh. New dried hay was put in the feed trough and the neck bar was set in place.

Brossy’s bellow was loud enough to wake the family of skipper mice that lived in the barn. She kicked out hard andbellowed once more as cold hands touched her skin. Burt jumped out of the way as the big hoof sailed past his head. He rubbed his hands to warm them, sat down once again and reached for the udder.

Broosy wasn’t about to have any one get this familiar so early in the morning.

Burt sighed, stood up and hurried over to the feed bucket standing beside the grain bin. He knew his Gran would give him a loud what for if she found out. “Well I’m not going to tell her. You better not either, Brossy.” He wagged his right index finger at the stubborn animal.