The Country Life 4

Micah became a curiosity at school. Always a quiet boy who loathed attention, now he interested everyone. He was the boy whose parents had died, that greatest fear of so many children. So they whispered about him in the halls, the macabre fascination that can possess the young on full display for Micah. He’d walk with shoulders hunched, wishing he could pull his head in and hide like the turtles he watched on the pond.

And now he was also the one who lived with that Lady on the Hill, the staple of the farmlands who everyone seemed to love but no one seemed to know. At home he loved that they were the odd ones together, but at school it just made everything that much harder.

School isn’t books and learning for the kids wrapped up in it. It’s a society, a hierarchy, a trap. Learning is what you do, but your place in that mesh of who “fits with” who - and who does not - that’s what you are. Most kids, us crusty old grownups will find, develop their sense of self at the unyielding hands of their peers. kids can be the best of us, but they can also be the worst. Everything is amplified when you’re a child, and the old ones in our society would do well to remember what that’s like.

The worst of the worst were Matthew and Mark, who the popular kids had taken to calling M&M. Johnny often trailed along with them, laughing at their bad jokes and helping Matt hold kids down for Mark to punch. As is so often the case the strongest preyed on the weakest. More than once Micah had his head shoved into a toilet. Once he spent a long hour in a locker waiting for class to break so someone could hear him yell.

Most of it was inconvenient and embarrassing, but not really scary. Matt and Johnny kept the worst of Mark in check and though Micah hated it, he approached most of it with a “let’s get it over with” mentality.

Most days he didn’t see them at all. And when he did, they would often move on quickly to someone who put up a more satisfying fight or seemed more browbeaten when they were done. They would try to taunt him about his homemade clothes or his dark skin. They called him “Ratface” and “Scarecrow” for his thin frame. Once or twice they surrounded him and pushed and shoved him between them. Micah’s “eh” responses just didn’t sate them.

Micah knew what real trouble felt like. Real trouble was not knowing where your next meal would come from. Real trouble was lying in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar house knowing you’d never see your parents again. What M&M got up to felt more like childish pranks, and he didn’t have much heart to bother with them. Micah already knew that the universe wasn’t about him, and that the world wasn’t watching to see how well he responded to these stupid situations. He was just waiting for the others to catch up.

Eventually, though, they found his button. It was lunchtime in the spring, and most of the students were eating outside in the causeway between buildings. Micah, schoolbag on his back, walked between buildings looking for a quiet place to settle into a corner. It backfired.

“Look, there he is!” Shouted Mark, “The guy who lives with that redheaded witch. Does she ride you at night, Ratface? Are you her broom?”

Micah turned slowly. For a split second Mark’s face registered surprise that he’d gotten a response, then it hardened as he tested the weak spot. “What’s it like living in that old haunted house? You know you’re going to die there, right?” Micah just stared at him.

“And she’ll be the one that kills you!”

Micah took a step toward Mark. Mark’s face reddened as he realized he’d found a chink in Micah’s armor. “Everybody loves Lianna O’Dana, but she’s dangerous! She kills people in that basement of hers and butchers them like animals! She drinks their blood, Ratface. She’s a murderer and a witch! She’s no better than her animals, and you’re one of them!”

Micah was on him before he knew what he was doing. He was small but strong, after working with Lianna every night for six months. Mark choked in surprise as Micah closed. A right hook found his ear and an uppercut tipped his head back. He staggered a little. Micah watched, wondering distractedly whether he was actually seeing stars. ‘Does that really happen?’ he thought with mild curiosity - and then found his answer when Mark tackled him and his head cracked against the concrete walkway. And then they were wrestling, each fighting for control over the other.

Matt and Johnny stood back to watch delightedly instead of coming to their ringleader’s aid. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” They started the chant, and the rest of the courtyard joined in within a few minutes. A crowd gathered, finally drawing the attention of a teacher.

Matt managed to draw back and get in a vicious punch that met Micah’s nose on an angle. Pain exploded in Micah’s head as he felt his nose shift in his face. Noses don’t do that… he thought through a fog. He felt woozy.

But his arms wrapped around Matt, inside his guard, bringing them chest to chest and holding them tight together. Matt’s reaction was instinctive - he tried to pull back, scrabbling up on his knees, one on either side of Micah as he fought to break the grip. Mica brought up his knee against the other boy’s groin and Matt howled, collapsing. As Micah tried to roll them so he was on top and in control, he felt a beefy hand grab the back of his shirt and haul him away, setting him on his feet.

He almost fell. Blood dripped into his ear from the back of his head, and into his eyes from his poor flattened nose. He put his hands on his knees and tried not to pass out as two teachers hauled Matt up, still doubled over in pain. “That is enough shouted the coach who had grabbed Micah. Principal’s office. Now!”

The Principal took one look at Micah and sent him to the nurse’s station first. Thoroughly patched up but dizzy from the pain in his head, he found himself sitting in Principal Sartain’s office, bruised and downcast.

“We’re sending you to the hospital as soon as we get this sorted,” she said sternly. “I’ve been calling Miz O’Dana’s number since I first saw you and I’m getting no answer. Who else can I call for you?”

Micah swallowed. “I have the neighbor’s number on the refrigerator at home, but I don’t know it by heart.” He said.

“Her name is Mrs. McKenna.”

The principal wrote it down. “You know fighting in school is a serious offense, Micah. Believe me, I know M&M” - here she paused. Micah had tried to laugh and it came out in a strangled snort that made him choke and cough. A smile tweaked one corner of the principal’s mouth - against her will, he thought.

“Yes, I know what everyone calls them. I know they’re trouble. But I have a courtyard full of witnesses that say you threw the first punch. That’s not like you, Micah.”

“I did.” He said dimly. “They were calling Miz Lianna a witch and a murderer.” He tried to say more but stopped, snorfling strangely as he tried to catch his breath through his mouth.

“I get it,” said the principal slowly, “but you cannot let them goad you into something like this. All four of you are getting detention this weekend. It’s Matthew’s third major strike this year so he’s got one week of out-of-school detention and then after-school detention for a week, too.

“But you’re going to have to be in the same room with them this weekend,” she said gently. “Be prepared.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Can I go now? My face hurts.”

She chuckled. “The nurse will drive you to the hospital, dear. Make sure to have Miz Lianna call us as soon as she can, ok? You’ll need transportation for this weekend. The buses don’t run on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He got up to go, then stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry.” He felt a tear slide down what was left of his cheek.

She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. “You know… another offense will get him expelled.”

Micah smiled slowly. “Thank you again, Ma’am.” He slipped through the door and found the nurse, who he knew only as Miss Anna, waiting for him in the hallway.

—

It was scary at the hospital, though Miss Anna tried her best to make it less so. He felt very small and very alone, and it made him miss his mother and father in a visceral way he hadn’t yet felt. The emotion was bigger than he was, sad and deep and hungry, and he found himself in uncontrollable tears despite the extra pain it caused to cry.

Miss Anna held him on her lap in the emergency waiting room, letting him cry until he was limp and tired. She helped him keep his nose wiped as best they could. A hospital nurse working behind the counter took pity on them and kept bringing them tissues, eventually bringing Micah a cup of hot chocolate as well. Miss Anna was steady and kind, despite the blood and mucus she found her school shirt covered in, despite the sobs that shook him and his continued apologies. Finally, she took his cheeks very gently in her hands.

“Micah,” she said, “You need to hear this. You have a whole community of people who care for you, just because you’re you. You don’t need to apologize, and you don’t need to change. You just need to be you, ok?” Her words brought a fresh round of tears and she settled his sore head into her shoulder, handing him a fresh Kleenex.

They found themselves ushered out of the waiting room quickly, into a bank of hospital beds with curtains strung between them. Everything seemed very white and very unwelcoming. He held onto Miss Anna’s hand and she helped him climb up on the bed, sitting beside him and letting him rest against her as they continued to wait. Her arm was around him protectively, and he drifted into a kind of uneasy half-doze full of throbbing and dreams about wrestling and falling.

“Well now!” A cheery voice broke through the pain in his head. He jumped and sat up, wiping his mouth with his tissue. He gasped as a fresh wave of pain ran through his head at the movement.

A young doctor with close-cropped blond hair stood in front of him, eyes inspecting his face from a distance. Miss Anna still sat beside him. She rested her hand on his. “It’s ok, Micah. You were sleeping. How do you feel?”

“Ow,” said Micah, and the doctor chuckled.

“Well, a sense of humor is always a good sign.” Micah just looked at him. He hadn’t been trying to be funny.

“I’m Doctor Jeremy, Micah. It’s nice to meet you. Let’s take a look at you, ok?”

Micah endured the questions, the bright lights, the gentle touches and pokes as best he could. If tears started to come he squeezed Miss Anna’s hand. He kept his head up high, the way his mother had taught him, and he didn’t cry, the way his father would have wanted.

They took him to another room for an X-ray. He was cold in his hospital gown, and the noise and sigh of the big machine made him quail, but he took deep breaths the way Miss Lianna taught him. The worst part was being alone in the room while they watched through glass, but it was all over soon and he was back in his bed behind the little curtain. It was warmer there, and softer, and he could hold Miss Anna’s hand again.

“Good job, Micah,” Doctor Jeremy said when it was all over. “Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

What Micah wanted was not to have to answer silly questions. His head hurt and he wanted to be in his bed in Miss Lianna’s warm house. But he didn’t let it show on his face. “The bad news,” he said finally.

“Very mature,” said the doctor approvingly. “Well, Micah, your nose is broken. We’re going to have to take care of that, and it’s probably going to be uncomfortable. But we’ll be as gentle as we can, ok?”

Micah nodded. Squeeze, went his fingers against Miss Anna’s hand.

“Now the good news is that you don’t have a concussion. That’s a brain injury that can happen in a fall, and it can actually be more dangerous than that broken nose of yours. You also don’t have any damage to the neck, which can cause long-lasting problems for someone your age. You should heal well, and it’s likely that you won’t have lasting scars.”

Micah smiled a little at that. It seemed a silly thing to worry about with all the real worries around, but he had worried anyway. He already had enough trouble at school. He didn’t need more nicknames. Squeeze.

The doctor approached the bed. “Can you sit up on the edge here, please?” Micah stiffened, but he did as he was asked. “I’d like you to close your eyes, Micah. I’m going to numb your nose and I want to make sure your eyes are protected.”

I’m not dumb, thought Micah. You don’t want me to see the needle. But he did as he was asked. Plus, he didn’t really want to see the needle anyway. Miss Anna reached out again. Her hand was the only thing he could trust as he closed his eyes. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze.

A few minutes later his nose was packed inside and out with gauze, his head wrapped in more gauze, and he looked out between the white bandages through narrowed, sore eyelids. But his nose didn’t hurt. All in all, he thought it was an improvement. He sighed with relief as the doctor stepped away. Squeeze.

Miss Anna drove him home that afternoon. The numbness was wearing off his sore nose and every bump in the road was excruciating.

Nobody answered the door when Miss Anna knocked, but he brought her inside and showed him his snack and a note from Lianna, laid out for him on the kitchen table. When he mentioned working his usual animal rounds, Miss Anna offered to work with him. He was a little nervous, but the throbbing in his head made him accept gratefully. They walked around the farm together, with Micah showing her how he did things in the afternoons and Anna asking questions, helping with any lifting and carrying.

It was light work, and a beautiful cool afternoon, and they finished in short order. In half an hour they were sitting at the kitchen table. Micah made his new friend a cup of tea and they sat together, sharing the apple tart that had been left for him, baked from last fall’s apple harvest. He rested his head in a bruised hand and closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of apples and cinnamon on his tongue. The chai tea today was a wonderful compliment to the rich flavors, and they both enjoyed the moment in silence.

“Miss Lianna should be up around sundown, but you really don’t need to wait for her,” Micah said when they were done. “We have a regular routine, and I know I don’t have anything to worry about. Would you like me to show you the house?” Anna hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t want to pry, but I’d love to see where you live.”

He took her first to the parlor, where the piano sat in stately silence against the wall, a dining table occupied the middle of the room, and antique furniture lined the wall opposite the piano. Everything was beautifully arranged, exquisite and old, and the effect was impressive. He took pride in showing her the space.

They crossed the wide front hall, behind the beautiful glass door surrounded by oak-and-acorn ironwork. The big, solid oak inner door was thrown wide to let in the light. The front hall was airy and clean, extending the feel of elegance from the parlor to the living room, across the hall.

The living room was also spacious and open, with late afternoon sunlight streaming through the big windows and lending a soft glow to the air. Comfortably slouchy furniture graced this room, a big couch and side chairs made for resting – and enjoying it. Wood was stacked neatly in an open woodbox by the fireplace, though today no fire was needed to ward off the chill. The great oriental rug on the floor warmed the space, making the atmosphere homey but also refined.

Candelabra and ceramics were scattered tastefully on the shelves, table, and sideboard. Everything had a use and a place, and also made the room more beautiful by its presence.

The little bathrooms were tidy and neat, with fresh, clean-scented towels, washcloths hung on hooks, and pretty handmade rag rugs on the floors. Finally, Micah brought her upstairs to show her his bedroom. Again she hesitated, but again she let him take her hand and lead her.

He kept his room neat, just as Miss Lianna had asked him, and he swept it twice a week. He didn’t have all that much to clutter it with, anyway. The pretty bronze cross Lianna had given him stood in its stand on his desk.

The dresser drawers were closed, with his clothes folded inside as best he could. His sheets smelled like sunlight, and the yellow curtains framing his window fluttered in the breeze through the open screened window. Another rag rug, this one yellow and orange, spread across the floor almost to the corners of the room. It was a simple, bright space, and he found it suited him. “I like it,” he told her. He sat down on his bed and swung his feet against the quilt, feeling happy despite his pain for the first time that afternoon.

At each end of the upper hall, on each side of his room, were two rooms with doors that were always closed. “I think they’re bedrooms,” he told her. “I don’t try to go in there. Miss Lianna’s room is downstairs in the basement, and I don’t usually try to go in there either. She says she has really bad insomnia during the night, so she usually sleeps in the afternoon when her body lets her rest. I don’t wake her, and she’s asked me not to come down there while she’s sleeping.”

Miss Anna nodded approvingly. “That seems appropriate since you’re just really getting to know each other.” Micah sat up a little straighter. It felt like he was doing better with Miss Anna than he had done with Brandon from child protective… center? Service? He couldn’t remember.

He led Miss Anna back downstairs and showed her the office last. She’d already seen the kitchen, and the tidy mud room inside the back door.

He had a little desk that sat on one wall, and Miss Lianna had a larger desk that sat against the big back wall between two windows. “She says she runs the farm and the greenhouse from here,” he said, smiling.

Pulling open a little closet, he showed her the washer and dryer, with a load of his clothes stacked neatly on a shelf, waiting for him to put them back in his drawers. She always made sure his laundry was clean and waiting for him.

They sat down together again in the kitchen window, and Anna noticed the sun low in the sky. “I need to get home,” she said, realizing the time. “Are you sure you’ll be ok?”

“Yes,” he said with confidence, “Miz Lianna should be up in the next hour. I’m not worried.” Anna helped him clean their plates and mugs and set them in the drying rack. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

Micah watched through the window of the back door as she walked to her car, pulled a folder out of the back seat, and pulled an envelope out of the folder.

“Let’s leave this here for Miss Lianna,” she said when she pulled open the kitchen door. She set the envelope on the table where they’d eaten so peacefully not an hour before. Micah felt a dark cloud gather around him again, remembering the fight and the principal’s office and the trouble he was in.

“I’ll call Lianna tomorrow evening and figure out transportation for you over the weekend, ok? We’ll get things sorted out for you.”

Micah started to throw himself into a hug around her waist but stopped when the motion made him feel a little dizzy. He stepped forward and rested his head against her stomach, hugging her gingerly. “He’s so small,” she thought, hugging him back. “I hope this lady is doing right by him.”

She knelt in front of him in the red-tinged light of the sunset through the kitchen window. “If you need anything – anything, Micah – I want you to call me, ok? She pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to him. “You can put this on your refrigerator or keep it with your school things, whatever works best. But please know I don’t live far from Flaxen Farms and I want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Thank you,” he said uncertainly, taking the card from her. She smiled, ruffled his hair very very gently, and headed out to her car.

Micah sat at the table for a few minutes after he heard her drive away, resting his sore head on his sore arms. He felt his eyelids grow heavy. With a sigh, he decided not to wait for Miss Lianna tonight. There was too much to tell and he was just too worn out. He would let the letter do its job.

His steps felt leaden as he climbed the stairs to his little bedroom.