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Bill couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling in worry, evading the sleep he so desperately needed. It had to have been the early morning hours by now. He’d stayed up nearly the entire night with every little anxious thought and ‘what-if’ running through his head. The thunderstorm outside his window didn’t help those emotions subside either.
The bank was taking away their farm… soon. ‘Soon’ was too soon, and Bill wasn’t even sure what ‘soon’ was. They hadn’t contacted him about that, but the notion of ‘soon’ shouldn’t exist. He should be able to keep his family afloat in their home and on their farm and…
He couldn’t.
“What kind of father does that make me?” Bill whispered to himself as he fiddled with his thumbs.
He lay in silence for another few moments, the only sound in the room being the pounding rain on the window and the occasional low rumble of thunder. The sky flashed a few times, illuminating the dark room, but the lightning only seemed to stay in the clouds, muffling their strikes. Bill hoped it’d stay that way, he’d hate to have to rebuild another barn after their old one burnt down.
It wasn’t like he’d have the land to rebuild it on anyway. Or the money.
“No, no, no,” he muttered critically as he covered his face with his hands and sat up, swinging his legs to hang off the edge of the bed. “No, Bill, don’t think like that. Everything’ll be fine, everything’ll be fine.”
His hands slid down his face, landing on his lap as he sat in thought. That was until he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that the hallway light had turned on, with the warm yellow glow shining under his door. He turned on his bedside lamp as he heard hurried footsteps and what he could only assume was the upstairs bathroom door being slammed shut. The silence followed again, and then the sound of dry heaving reared its ugly head.
Bill sighed worriedly, tiredly, and began to walk towards the door, tying his robe as he walked. He stepped out, gently knocking on the bathroom door which was conveniently beside his own room.
“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Bill said softly, but loudly enough that whoever was in there could hear.
He truly didn’t know which kid was in there, but regardless of which kid it was, he felt worried and sorry for them all the same.
Bill didn’t hear a follow-up for a good 3 minutes, only more gagging, so he gave whichever kid it was just a few more minutes to get everything out of their system. Once the gagging had become dry heaving, and the dry heaving had become silence, he went to knock again.
Suddenly, the door cracked open just the tiniest bit. He looked down and saw his green-eyed baby looking up at him with bags beneath her eyes. He sighed and knelt down to her height and pushed the door open just the littlest bit more so he could hold her hand.
Before Bill could even get a word out, Tilly walked up to him to collapse into him, face-planting into his chest. Bill pulled her into a hug, gently rubbing her back and kissing her head. Goodness, she felt so warm.
“When’d you start feelin’ bad, Sweetpea?” Bill asked, feeling her forehead with his palm just to make sure he was correct in his assumption that it was, indeed, a fever.
“When I began sweating and shivering at the same time,” she sniffled, sneezing into her elbow, “Truthfully, I think us believing that walking home from the store right before a rainstorm was about to hit yesterday was a bit of a bold move to make.”
“Yeah, I guess it was, wasn’t it?” Bill said as he picked her up, lifting her into his arms a bit slower once he realized the quick movement might upset her stomach. “If I’d known that rainstorm was gonna even come I would’ve just driven the Kludge.”
“Oh, I’m sure you would have, Papa,” Tilly said genuinely, laying her head on his shoulder as she shivered. “I’m not trying to say you did it purposefully. I really enjoyed the walk there, actually.”
“Don’t worry, Sweetpea, I know what you were saying,” Bill said, “Has your brother been feeling alright?”
“He hasn’t said anything—“
The two shut up as they heard the door down the hall bust open. Cricket ran out with a bedhead, tired eyes, and a panicked expression.
“Move!“ Cricket said as he shoved Bill’s leg aside and ran into the bathroom slamming the door shut. Not even 5 seconds later, the sound of vomiting was heard.
“Oh,” Bill said softly, processing the scene, and groaning at the realization. “You’re both sick…”
Right after Nancy was arrested, too.
—
Cricket’s eyes cracked open at the ear-piercing crow of Cogburn and the bright sunlight peaking through their window blinds.
Last night was… rough, to say the least, if the small trash cans Dad had to steal from the up and downstairs bathrooms being beside each of their bedsides was anything to go by. Dad came into their room every hour or so to check their temperatures, which wasn’t all that great either considering they barely slept anyway. Their heads were pounding and their stomachs were churning. It really just didn’t feel like such a great morning, to be honest.
With Mom in jail as well, it definitely didn’t feel like a great morning. Not one bit.
“Hey Til’…” Cricket mumbled sluggishly with a sniffle, turning to look at his sister's bed.
“Mornin’ brother,” Tilly responded just as sluggishly, though her voice was far more scratchy than his own.
Speaking of her voice, it happened to come from the other side of the room rather than her bed. Huh, that was strange. Usually, Cricket woke up far before she did. She was typically the heavy sleeper out of the two.
Cricket rubbed his eyes of sleep and looked across the room to find her gathering up her clothes from their dresser.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked. Her hair was messy and her face was red, glistened with sweat. She must’ve been sweating out whatever fever she had. Cricket doubted he looked any better himself.
“Slept as well as I could’ve,” he grumbled, hopping out of his hammock with his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He fell dizzy from the jump, taking a moment to regain his balance, and steadied himself, “I was in and outta sleep I think. My head was poundin’ too, that was for sure.”
“Mine was as well. Still is,” Tilly smiled in sympathy, “We should probably head downstairs. It’s way past when we should have been up.”
“It is? But Cogburn crowed—“
“For the fifth time,” Tilly continued, finishing his sentence. “He crows more than once in the mornin’.”
Cricket grumbled as the two headed downstairs.
—
“Mornin’ you two,” Bill smiled from his place at the stove, seeing his two blessings standing at the bottom of the steps. “I know y’all probably won’t be able to stomach much so I made some soup and there’s some fruit in the bowl on the table.”
The two kids mumbled their thanks as they trudged to the dining room table like they were on a long, dangerous journey. They did attempt to eat as everyone sat in silence aside from the sizzling eggs Dad was cooking and the birds outside whistling, though they only ate a few bites before both of them decided that was enough.
By the time Bill had finally sat down at the table with his own plate, Tilly had laid her head on the table and Cricket had his chin rested there as well. The bags under their eyes said it all, and Bill couldn’t blame them for being so tired.
“So are we staying inside today?” Tilly asked. Cricket’s head popped up with a small glimmer of hope in his eye before Bill responded with a sigh.
“I’d prefer it if y’all did, I don’t want y’all workin’ when you should be resting.”
“Awwww, but I hate bein’ locked up inside,” Cricket whined, face-planting into the wooden dinner table.
“Oh, brother, don’t do that, your head will hurt more.”
“Especially since Mom’s in jail!” Cricket continued, ignoring his sister. His head popped up again with his words as he splayed his hands out. “We’re supposed to be helpin’ out, and since Mom’s not here we’ve gotta help out more! We should help out more…”
“No, no, y’all shouldn’t,” Bill began firmly, “I know y’all want to help out and I appreciate it a lot. Seriously, you two have no idea how much I appreciate it, but I don’t want y’all getting worse. Especially with… everything else.”
Nancy, the farm, the house. The kids only knew about the first part, and he at least wanted them healthy before he had to break the news to them.
There were a few beats of silence as the kids examined Bill’s expression, and their own expressions softened as they looked at each other in slight worry.
“Papa… you look stressed.”
“Truth be told Tilly-girl, I am.”
Bill paused, running his hands over his face and sighing once more. The whole week had been stressful.
“I get it,” Bill said, sincerely. He truly understood, “It’s just… hard.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Cricket laughed nervously, coughing into his elbow at the end of it.
Bill smiled at his children. His two blessings, “Sure is. Let’s just… You two take a break today, alright? I’ll come in and check on y’all every so often.”
The two nodded reluctantly.
—
“We shouldn’t have agreed,” Cricket whined, his voice muffled as he lay face first on the living room rug.
“Why’s that, brother?” Tilly asked with a sniffle, shuffling the small deck of One-O cards the two found in her bedside dresser.
“Because this sucks!” He complained, rolling over and splaying out on the floor. “We’ve been stuck inside for hourrrssss! It’s not like the perfectly fine sunny weather made us sick, it was the rain, so if it ain’t rainin’ why can’t we go outside?!”
“…Because we both have summer allergies also?”
“No, we don’t, and I’ll die on that hill,” Cricket stated firmly, rolling onto his stomach and gathering together his cards that Tilly handed to him. “How ‘bout we ask for just 10 minutes outside? On the porch, nowhere near anythin’ that’ll make us any more sick.”
Tilly looked at him for a few seconds and placed the first card, “I doubt anything out there won’t make us any more sickly.”
Cricket groaned once more, though his groan was cut short as the two heard the back door creak.
“Dad! Dad, wait a minute!” Cricket gasped as he got up, nearly tripping as he raced to the back door and grabbed ahold of Bill’s leg like a cat to a scratching post. “Pleasseee let us go outside! Just once, only 5 minutes tops!”
“Woah, woah now hold on a second,” Bill said, picking Cricket up from the back of his oversized pajama shirt like a kitten being held by the scruff, and placing him a little ways away from Bill so he’d let go of his leg. “I told y’all you can’t go outside. I don’t want y’all to feel any worse, and I know neither of y’all want to feel any worse either.”
Tilly made her way over and stood beside her brother, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders as she shivered. “To be honest, Papa, I’m fine with staying inside if it helps any…”
“Well, I’m glad you don’t want to get any more sick than you already are—“
“…Buuuut unfortunately I must agree with Cricket that staying inside for so long isn’t helping our mental state all too well.”
“Yeah! We gotta be free!” Cricket tried to yell, but coughed harshly at the scratchiness in his throat.
“Our One-O games haven’t been very helpful either,” Tilly shuddered at the thought. It was their last resort of entertainment, and there was a reason it was a last resort– a good reason for that.
Bill paused to look at them, dumbfounded, “Y’all were just throwin’ up last night and you’re wantin’ to head outside?”
The two nodded vigorously, but immediately slowed down and squeezed their eyes shut to combat the headache.
Bill groaned under his breath, taking a good look at the clock down the hall just above the closet.
He had a few minutes to spare, to his dismay, but did he really want to lie to his kids who knew his schedule?
“Alright, fine, but only on the condition that you stay on the porch at all times.”
“Ya ya alright– Tilly let’s go!” Cricket said quickly, pulling his sister by the arm upstairs so they could get dressed.
Bill sighed with an exhausted smile. Those two were just too much.
—
Bill didn’t dare let them head outside on their own. No, as much as he loved them, and as much as he trusted them on some things, this thing was something he just couldn’t trust them on. He knew that as soon as he let them outside, he’d have to lasso them together and pull them back from escaping the small wooden porch he’d confined them to for their own health, and that’s what he had to do.
“No, nuh-uh, you two know better,” he said as he grabbed the two of them by the backs of their shirts and pulled them away from the porch steps.
“Sorry, Papa, I guess my excitement got the best of me–”
“But Dad!” Cricket interrupted, pointing to the front yard, “Look, no rain, no nothin’, absolutely barren, how do you expect us to get sick out there?”
“Pollen,” Bill deadpanned, hands on his hips, “Also there’s a mud puddle right where you’re pointin’, from yesterday’s storm.”
Cricket looked back at the front yard, then hung his head in defeat, “Dang it…”
Bill sighed and picked up his two blessings, “Alright, y’all wanted to be out here for just a few minutes yeah? How ‘bout we sit on the swing?”
Tilly nodded, and Cricket simply huffed with his arms crossed. Bill took it as a resigned ‘yes’ and strolled over to the porch swing, settling down and placing the two on either side of him.
They fell into a silence of sorts over the next 10 minutes, a silence Bill wasn’t quite used to hearing, either because they weren’t quiet themselves or because of life’s endless array of stressful distractions. He had to admit, the silence was nice, and much welcomed. He took the time to relax, letting his eyes fall closed and feeling Cricket lean onto his side sometime during the process, with Tilly laying on his lap as well.
Bill finally opened his eyes after a while, an estimated 10 minutes if you will since he didn’t have his watch on him to check.
He nearly spoke up to begin ushering his sickly children inside but looked down only to notice said sickly children were nearly knocked out cold. Cricket wasn’t much of a snorer, but the steady breaths and unusual stillness of the typically fidgety 10-year-old were enough to tell Bill he was sleeping soundly. His daughter on the other hand, very much a snorer, wasn’t snoring, but instead drifting into slumber softly and slowly.
Bill didn’t dare disturb them. Their rest was needed, especially with how little of it they got the prior night. So instead, he kept quiet, thinking to himself.
What in the world was he going to do?
Nancy was gone, Ma lived over an hour away, and it wasn’t like Bill could afford to hire any help on the farm. Maybe Good Ol’ Joe could help? Or Cricket’s little friend from the junkyard could help with his parent’s permission, though he had a sibling to take care of too, didn’t he?
Bill knew the inevitable. He was going to lose everything. Everything except his children and the clothes on his back, though he might as well lose the clothes on his back too. Sell them and make some extra money to keep him and the kids above water.
“What kind of father does that make me?” Bill asked, quietly this time. The remorseful question was asked under his breath in the way the wind blows softly enough just to be a breeze.
“The one who tries,” Tilly mumbled beneath her own breath, tiredly in her half-awake state. She didn’t have enough energy to stay awake longer as her breaths became snores once more. There was no energy left to give any more comfort.
That was okay, though, because that was all the comfort Bill needed then. Maybe he’d need more come tomorrow, but right now, outside, where the birds sang and the sun illuminated the sky, it was all he needed.
With that being said, Bill couldn’t help but grumble under his appreciative smile. He knew he’d be sick by tomorrow.