Part 1:2

They were both feeling tired and the walk home through the forest was slow and quiet. Seth, walking behind his brother and wiping at the dried berry juice on his face, smirked at the purple stain on Lucas's pants.

“Do you think Papa is going to be angry?” Lucas asked.

“Don’t know,” came the response. “We could just say we didn’t hear him.”

They both fell silent.

“I think he’ll be really angry.” Lucas paused. “How long do you think we’ve been gone?”

Seth stopped. His stomach clenched with panic. He looked up through the trees. “Damn Lucas it’s really late!” He started to run. “The sun would be near set. Come on!”

Both boys began to run home. Their tired legs carrying them across the uneven ground of the forest.

Seth was first to emerge from the forest and turned and headed across the field, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

Lucas was only a few paces behind when Seth suddenly stopped and he stumbled into his back.

“What is it?” Lucas said following Seth’s line of sight. “What is that?”

But Seth didn’t respond, he just broke into a sprint heading full speed across the field. Lucas stared for a moment, his brow creased, then he recognised what his brother had seen. “Papa!” he whispered.

When Seth arrived at his father's side he was curled into a ball in the middle of the field. “Father! Father! What’s wrong?” There was no response. His skin was hot and beads of sweat covered his face, and his cotton tunic was soaked through. “Father! Please what’s wrong?” he said, shaking the man's shoulders.

Lucas fell to his knees beside Seth. “What’s wrong with Papa?” he asked between breaths.

“I’m not sure,” Seth said, looking around. “I need you to run to Mr. Olmar’s and tell them father has fallen ill.”

Lucas sat, staring with wide eyes at their father as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Go!” Seth yelled.

The young boy sprang up and ran.

Seth watched as he pelted across the field then got up and ran to the barn. He grabbed a small hand cart and wheeled it across the corrugated field, bringing it alongside his father. He then pulled the man onto the cart as best he could and pushed it towards the house. Just before he got to the front door the cart’s wheel caught in a small pothole and tipped, spilling his father onto the hard-packed dirt.

“Damn it!” Seth said through clenched teeth and shoved the cart out of the way. He hooked his arms under his father’s and dragged the groaning man up the step and into the house. The man shivered, yet Seth could feel the heat of a fever radiate through the sweat-soaked clothes. “Come on!” he growled as he dragged him into the sitting room that joined to the entry hall. It took the last of his energy to half pull—half roll the man onto a low lounger. He then covered him with a small woollen blanket and sat back. After a few deep breaths, he stood and stumbled through the house to the kitchen, filled a cup with cold water from the sink, and hurried back.

“Here drink this,” he said, trying to pour the cool liquid into his father’s mouth. But he just choked and coughed on the little bit that trickled down his throat. “Please! Tell me what’s wrong, what do I do?” Seth pleaded as tears slipped from his eyes.

Seth sat on a chair outside his father’s bedroom. The waiting was driving him mad. It was near midnight when Lucas had arrived with Mr. Olmar and a short plump man with a black leather bag. Mr. Olmar quickly introduced the man as the local doctor as they moved his father to the bedroom, then ushered him and his brother from the room and closed the door. There had been some talk from behind the door, but it was muffled, and he couldn’t make out the words, just two quiet voices murmuring in the silence of the house. He leaned back against the wall and rested his head against the cool wood panels and looked at his brother, who was pacing at the end of the passageway that led to the kitchen. He took a few steps, glanced at their father’s door, then turned and paced back. Seth watched for a while as he repeated this process, then went back to stare at the door, tracing the grain of the dark wood with his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long they had been waiting, but time seemed to have stopped.

The voices started behind the door again. Startled, Seth sat up. He must have been dozing off. A shuffling of boots and shadows appeared in the crack beneath the door. He clutched at the seat of his chair, squeezing hard. His stomach knotted and his shoulders ached from tension. He hoped his father was going to be okay. Surely the doctor could make him better. The door opened and Seth tried to look past the bulky frame of Mr. Olmar.

The old farmer, his face grim, stepped from the room and glanced at him and then Lucas. He shook his head and sighed. “I’ll put t'gether some supper,” he said.

The doctor followed closely behind and gently closed the bedroom door. Seth’s eyes flicked to the plump man holding his black bag and the knot in his stomach began to churn. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, trying to stop the lump forming in his throat.

The doctor looked at Seth. He sucked in his upper lip, chewed on it, then let it go. “I’m sorry son. It’s the quickening,” he said. “He won’t last the night.”

Tears began to trickle down Seth's dirt-smeared face. He opened his mouth to speak but no words would come out.

Lucas staggered towards them, his chin quivered. “But he was fine. He can’t die, he just can’t!” He shouted and then ran from the passageway and stormed through the house, slamming the front door on his way out.

Mr. Olmar poked his bald head through the kitchen door. “I’ll go make sure he’s okay.”

“Thank you,” the doctor said.

Seth was silent. This couldn’t really be happening, he thought, it’s just a bad dream. But it was happening, their father was dying.

He looked up as the plump man spoke. His voice seemed a distant murmur, his lips and mouth worked the actions of speaking, but Seth couldn’t understand. A ringing began in his ears and grew louder until the sound pierced through his head. He flinched at the pain and the world began to spin. The doctor’s face took on a worried expression, then everything went black.