a Sweetwater Saga short story
Jennifer Branson turned away from the stove and smiled. Her wife was sitting on the kitchen floor playing patty cake with their children. “Jesse, I still need some eggs,” she reminded her wife.
“I'm on my way,” Jesse responded although she continued the game.
“I gets them, Momma,” KC jumped up, ran across the kitchen to snatch the empty egg basket off the sink then she charged toward the back door.
“KC, wait for your mommy,” Jennifer called after her daughter.
“Oh, my.” Marie Branson, trying to enjoy her morning cup of tea, was startled when the screen door leading to the back porch slammed loudly against the door frame. “That child,” she murmured with a smile.
Jennifer shifted to look out the window over the wash sink. “Jesse, you best go after her,” she said as KC disappeared around the corner of the house at a full run.
“No need for that,” Marie said. “Stanley should be on his way over. He'll make sure she doesn't get into any trouble.”
“Seems to me, trouble usually follows the two of them,” Jennifer replied with a laugh.
“What do you think, Charley?” Jesse asked the toddler who had paid little attention to his sister rushing out of the house. “Should I go keep your sis and Grumps out of trouble?”
Charley looked up at his mother. “Pfftpt,” he said with a determined shake of his head.
Laughing, Jesse scooped her son into her arms and stood up. “I don't think you'll ever be as rambunctious as KC, will you?” she asked the boy carrying him to the kitchen table.
“Nope,” Charley declared.
Jesse placed Charley on the chair next to his grandmother then ruffled his hair. “Good boy,” she told him. “More tea, Mother?” she asked reaching for the pot on the stove.
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Stanley was half way across the ranch yard when KC burst around the corner of the house and headed toward the barn. “Whoa there, young ‘un,” he shouted. “Where is ya off to in such a hurry?”
KC slid to a stop almost dropping the basket she carried. “Momma needs eggs,” she explained impatiently.
“Hen house is that way,” Stanley said pointing in the opposite direction KC had been heading.
“Them small eggs. I gets Momma big eggs.”
“What in the world are ya talkin' ‘bout?”
“Come,” KC urged her grandfather with a beckoning wave of her hand. “I show you.” When he failed to move, KC commanded, “Hurry!”
“Child, don' ya be talkin' that way,” Stanley huffed.
KC looked up at her grandfather. “Please,” she pleaded with a broad smile.
“Oh, lordy,” Stanley moaned as KC grabbed his hand and started to tug him into motion. “I know I shouldn',” he muttered being led across the ranch yard, around the side of the barn, and down the path that eventually ended on the banks of the river. “Ain't no chickens down there,” Stanley said when he realized where KC was taking him.
“Them's eggs there, Grumps,” KC assured him quickening her steps. “I show you.”
#
Reaching the riverbank, KC picked her way along the rock strewn shoreline until they were within a few feet of a small tuft of grass. “See, Grumps,” she pointed to the grass clump, “them big eggs in there. Help me get ‘em.”
Stanley stared in disbelief at a rather indignant goose protecting her nest.
“Honk!” The bird stood as tall as it could stretch its legs and spread its wings wide all the while glaring at KC with a murderous look in her eye.
KC inched closer to the nest, intent on removing the eggs nestled inside of it.
“KC, git away from there,” Stanley shouted reaching to stop his fearless granddaughter. “That there goose ain't too happy.” He managed to get a hold of KC and yanked her back just as the goose made its move. “Ouch,” he screamed when the goose, aiming for KC, nipped his hand instead.
“Honk, honk!” The goose furiously flapped her strong wings at the pair.
“Stop that,” KC yelled swinging her basket at the angry bird. “You shoo. Go ‘way.”
“Honk!!”
“Git back, young ‘un,” Stanley barked rubbing his sore hand and keeping an eye on the agitated goose.
“Grumps, Momma needs eggs.”
“There's plenty of eggs in the hen house.”
Deciding it made for a lousy weapon, KC dropped her basket and picked up a sturdy stick. She swung it at the goose.
“Put down that stick,” Stanley commanded as the goose flapped out of the child's reach.
“Honk, honk!!”
KC continued toward the goose, her stick held out in front of her. “Git back,” she swung the stick at the goose again and again.
“Honk!” The goose managed to avoid her attack all the while snapping its bill dangerously close to the determined child's head.
“KC, that bird is gonna pluck yer eyes out if ya don't stop.”
The goose chose that moment to make another lunge at the girl.
“Dang blume it!” Stanley screamed batting at the angry bird with one hand as he got a fist full of KC's shirt in the other and jerked her out of the bird's reach.
With her primary target removed, the goose continued her attack on what was available. “Honk!”
“Ow!” Stanley yelped when the goose nipped him in the leg. He swiped at the bird but missed. Placing his body between KC and the irate goose, he tried to make an escape. “Run,” he ordered pushing KC back down the riverbank toward the path.
The goose had other plans. “Honk! Honk!”
“Dammit!” Stanley swore after receiving another painful nip on the back of his leg.
Stubbornly, KC dug her heels into the ground refusing to move away from the nest. “Lemme go,” she shouted attempting to get around her larger and stronger grandfather. “I needs them eggs.”
“No ya don't,” Stanley shouted back trying to budge the obstinate girl.
The goose, continuing its attack, took another bite at a convenient leg.
“Ow!” Stanley made another useless swipe at the bird. Tired of fighting the bird and KC, he plucked her up and started running. “Ow!” he screamed feeling a nip to his backside.
“Honk!” The goose was having no trouble half running and half flying after them, its bill snapping fiercely.
KC squirmed about in her grandfather's arms so she could look for the goose. Hanging over his shoulder, she waved the stick, still firmly grasped in her hand, at the bird. “Go ‘way, bad goose,” she yelled at the bird chasing them. “Go ‘way,” she ordered throwing her stick at the bird. “Stop that!”
“Honk!” the bird responded then took another nip of Stanley's butt.
“Ow! Hold still, young ‘un, fer I drop ya on ya head.”
“Put me down, Grumps,” KC ordered smacking her grandfather's shoulder with her hand.
Trying to avoid the bird's attack and hang onto his uncooperative granddaughter, Stanley lost his footing on the rocky ground and struggled awkwardly to regain it.
With wings flapping, the goose rose off the ground; its bill snapping viciously as it aimed for Stanley's head.
Stanley tried to duck which only made it harder for him to regain his balance. The goose landed on his back, its feet gripping firmly onto his shirt and its wings beating him about the head.
“Uh oh,” KC grunted when her grandfather slipped on the rocks and started to go down.
Somehow, Stanley managed to land on the only stretch of sand on the river bank. “Git off me,” Stanley yelled his arms batting wildly at the goose on his back. “KC?”
Dropping out of her grandfather's arms as he fell, KC had rolled several feet away on the sandy beach. “I okay, Grumps,” she yelled climbing back onto her feet. Seeing the goose occupied, she ran back toward the nest. “I be right back, Grumps,” she said as she ran past.
“Ouch!” Stanley cried out when the goose nipped the back of his head. Not able to get the bird off his back, he rolled over.
“Honk!” the goose jumped up, wings flapping, and just barely avoided being trapped under the man. Exhausted by her strenuous defense of her nest, the goose settled awkwardly down on the ground beside Stanley.
Breathing heavily, Stanley reached for a fist-size rock. He raised his arm preparing to throw it at the weary goose.
“Grumps, look.”
Stanley's arm froze in mid-air. He turned his head to find KC, kneeling beside him, carefully cradling an egg in her hands. “Look, Grumps,” she said grinning, “it's a baby.”
Stanley could barely focus on the fuzzy head poking out of the egg. His hand dropped and the rock fell harmlessly back to the ground.
Having no energy left to fight, the goose weakly objected to her gosling being handled. “Honk.”
“No wonder ya was fightin' so hard,” Stanley told the goose nervously watching KC. “Ya best be puttin' it back in the nest,” he told the girl. “Let it's momma git back ta it.”
“Okay,” KC said as she stood up. “I gets the other eggs.”
“Nope, leave ‘em be,” Stanley said. “We can't eat them anyway.”
“Why not, Grumps?”
“Cuz they gots babies in ‘em, too.”
“Really?” KC asked in surprise.
“Yep,” Stanley answered struggling to his feet. “Now go put tha' one back fer this goose gits her strength back.” He looked at the bird. “Go on, go take care of ya young ‘uns.”
The goose looked toward her nest where KC was gently placing the partially broken egg onto the soft grass. It looked back up at Stanley. “Honk!” With a strong beat of its wings, the goose took flight and quickly covered the short distance back to its nest.
KC retrieved her basket then watched as the goose greeted her hatching baby. “Thems cute,” she told her grandfather after rejoining him.
“Humpft,” Stanley grumbled examining his numerous cuts and scrapes. “Ya best be gettin' ya eggs from the hen house from now on,” he told the girl taking her hand as they walked back to the path.
The goose checked on her eggs then checked on the pair of intruders. With a flap of her wings, she took flight.
“OW!!” Stanley screamed in pain. Releasing his hold on KC's hand, he grabbed for the aching part of his anatomy as he turned to find his attacker flying back to her nest.
The goose settled onto her nest before one last triumphant “HONK”.
“Dang blume it!”
“Guess we should a let her be,” KC pondered.
Still rubbing his backside, Stanley glared down at the girl. “Ain't tha' what I told ya?”
#
“Jesse, maybe you should go check on them,” Jennifer said placing a platter of bacon and biscuits on the table.
“I'm heading that way now,” Jesse responded reaching for her Stetson. Hearing the sound of boot steps on the back porch, she paused.
The screen door pushed open and KC entered the kitchen. “Here ya go, Momma,” she said cheerfully carrying the basket full of eggs to Jennifer.
Grimacing, Stanley limped into the kitchen behind his granddaughter.
Seeing her father's torn shirt and pants, and the bleeding cuts on his arms, Jesse opened her mouth to question him.
Stanley glared at his daughter. “Don' ask,” he snapped brushing past her on his way to the wash sink.
Jennifer looked with concern at her father-in-law's appearance. “Um?”
“Don' ya be askin' any questions neither,” Stanley grumbled dropping his hands into the hot, soapy water Jennifer used to wash dishes.
KC climbed onto a chair at the table. “Hi, Gramma. We gots eggs.”
“So, I see, child,” Marie responded. After a moment of unbearable silence, she asked, “What happened to your grandfather?”
KC reached for a piece of bacon. “He fought a goose,” she answered indifferently.
Jesse looked at Jennifer; who looked at Marie; who looked at Jesse. Then they all looked at Stanley before three pairs of eyes tracked back to the girl sitting at the table.
“Goose won,” KC added innocently before taking a bite of her bacon.
“Ya need to keep that young ‘un locked up,” Stanley muttered, his words drowned out by laughter.
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