a Sweetwater Saga short story
KC skipped along the dirt path with her younger brother following close behind. Suddenly, she stopped and pointed across the meadow they were crossing. “Look, Charley,” she said excitedly.
Leaving the path, Charley scampered through the meadow grass to squat next to a small cluster of wildflowers. “Pretty,” he said when KC joined him.
Bending over, KC carefully plucked a long stem from the ground. At its end, five delicate petals hung down to form a bell shaped blossom. “Smell,” she instructed her brother after shoving the flower into his face.
Charley complied then smiled. “I like,” he declared.
“Me, too. We'll take these back to Gramma,” KC said freeing another flower from the ground.
It wasn't long before the children had pulled all of the pretty blue flowers free and were hurrying back to the path.
“What ya got there?” Stanley asked the pair as they ran up carefully holding their bouquets.
“Pretty flowers,” KC informed her grandfather. “Smell,” she said stretching her arms up as high as she could.
Stanley stooped over and placed his nose close to the flowers. He took a sniff then straightened back up. “Ain't smell at all,” he told her.
KC frowned. “Sure they's do, Grumps. They smell real pretty.”
“Humpft,” Stanley huffed.
“They do, Grumps,” KC insisted. “Your nose must be broken.”
Stanley felt a tug on his pants and peered down to see Charley looking up at him with a very serious expression on his face. He knelt down so the small boy wouldn't have to tilt his head so far back to look up at him.
With his grandfather in reach, Charley leaned close to examine his nose.
“What is ya doin', boy?” Stanley exclaimed when his nose was grabbed by a small hand.
“Is yer nose broken?” Charley asked curiously.
“Ain't nothin' wrong with my nose ‘cept yer sister,” Stanley grumbled.
KC giggled.
“Thank that be funny, do ya?”
KC grinned. “Yep.”
“Well, it ain't. You dun ‘xpectin' my nose?” Stanley asked Charley.
KC giggled again. “Charley, leave Grumps' nose be. ‘Sides, you can't see where it's broken.”
“Why not?”
“Cuz, it's broke on the inside where the smellin' part be.”
“Oh,” Charley said with a nod. “Grumps, you carry my flowers… okay?” he asked thrusting his bouquet at his grandfather.
“Well, now,” Stanley said, “seems like since ya picked them, ya should carry them.”
Charley smiled. “Please.”
“Why didn't ya leave them be?”
“They's for Gramma,” KC informed him. “They's real pretty just like she likes.”
Stanley smiled. “So, ya picked ‘em fer yer Grandma, did ya? Well, tha'ts might nice.”
“Yep,” KC said nodding then thrust her bouquet at Stanley. “You carry,” she instructed.
THE END