BRICK and BRYTHE

 

Ephesians 4:32

King James Version

32 And be ye kind one to another, 

tenderhearted, 

forgiving one another, 

even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

They were brother-sister, with a gap of just a year between them.

BRYTHE, the younger of the two, the girl, was now five, and really quite adorable with that wild mane of fine, blond hair.

It looked wild, only because it was like dandelion tops, so light and free, blowing with the wind.

BRICK, the older – ha, that sounded so royal – was the boy, aged six, and as you can imagine, was built like a “brick”.

His frame was solid.

He imagined himself his sister’s champion, the one who can slay all her dragons, which, by the way, he often put on her way.

But that’s what older brothers are there for.

To torment the rest of the sbilings.

And yes, yes, occasionally, to redeem themselves in one, chivalrous act that would remain in the minds of everyone.

BRICK, the older, indeed.

You pronounce BRICK as “brick”, for he is built like a brick, and you pronounce BRYTHE along the lines of “bright”, for she is as bright as the day.

No, there is no Welsh blood in her, or in both.

They were as American as the American flag.

They lived with Mom and Dad in a cabin-style house.

Almost like those one-room affairs with everything made of wood.

Spartan, but comfortable.

You see, it was the late 1800s, so you can imagine little BRYTHE in her cotton frock, and that gorgeous, wild, dandelion hair.

And BRICK, almost Tom-Sawyer-type, with suspenders holding up those dark pants, where a stained white shirt was carelessly-tucked.

The children were at play on the field, so you can imagine that those clothes will take some beating.

Running was fun, but it was hot, so they took a break.

They felt thirsty all of a sudden.

The stream was a bit far, it will have to wait.

Spying a huge rock, BRICK gratefully sat on it.

Soon as he sat on it, he fell.

It was a giant turtle.

It wasn’t about to become a stool.

BRYTHE laughed and laughed, till she could no longer.

And collapsed on the grass in exhaustion.

BRICK felt humiliated and cried and cried.

In stark contrast to his sister who was laughing at the funny sight.

BRICK was BRICK no longer, and he fell apart.

He wanted to kick the poor turtle.

I take that back.

The turtle had a shell.

She was old and large.

BRICK might just break his tiny foot, if anything.

That will result in more humiliation.

They lived in a tiny town of 5,000.

First, his mom and dad will laugh.

Then, they’ll tell other folks about it.

Starting with grandpa and grandma.

Then grandpa and grandma will tell their neighbors.

And the neighbors will tell the people at the general store.

The people at the general store will tell everyone in town.

In a whole day’s time, maybe even just a whole morning, the whole town will know about it.

And laugh, for it’s too funny.

“A rock? Ha ha ha.”

“The little one thought it was a rock? Ha ha ha.”

BRICK cannot take that.

All brickness about him will crumble.

So, BRICK cried again, frustrated that he could not kick the perpetrator.

He could kick the head, but it was a giant turtle, with a snake’s head, and mean-looking eyes, eyeing him closely.

Was he in disgrace, too?

A rock, indeed!

BRYTHE could almost feel the turtle miffed.

Personally, she was proud of that shell, which has survived the ages, of which these two, with their years combined, would only amount to an eight of his actual age.

I suppose female turtles are vain, too.

The shell was their cloak, and anyone who thought it was a rock, deserved to be squashed or bitten.

BRICK realized his foolishness.

The large turtle was miffed, alright, getting ready for battle, snapping its powerful jaws, for good measure.

The humiliated boy decided to call it a day.

It was too early to do so, but he suffered enough humiliation.

“Promise not to tell ANYONE!” he made his sister promise.

“Ha ha ha, sure…”

Not trusting her flushed face, for she had laughed read hard under the sun, he made her promise again.

And that was that.

Of course, the whole town heard about it, as one other boy, BRUCE, happened to be around the area that time.

He had just helped is father stack some hay.

Talking about timing.

He witnessed everything.

Such luck!

He could finally get that BRICK once and for all.

He’d always been afraid of the solidly-built boy, who’d scowl at him some days.

Ah, but this time, he got him!

So, he went running to town, no horse needed, as it was within running distance.

Plus, he was on a mission.

He told everyone at the general store, and the cans, fruits, and vegetables started rolling as men and women dropped their baskets and sacks,giving way to laughter.

Poor BRICK.

Now, the whole town was informed and he would be marked for life.

Realizing how mean she had become, BRYTHE put both hands together, as if in prayer and supplication, and with her clear, grey eyes, asked for his forgiveness.

By now, the tears had stopped, and he was ready to forgive her.

They have become siblings once more.

And BRUCE's gossip, lost all power.

One look at the siblings' arm over the other said it all.

He went home in a huff.

And the large turtle went her way, too.

Rock, indeed!

MORE short stories here.

Image: Wallpaper Access