ATOP Chapter Five

"How much longer could it possibly take?" Marjorie Scott leaned forward to glance over Mac out the window. Endless cornfields were still flashing by and all aboard the train must certainly be sick of the monotonous scenery by now. Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana were almost completely identical. 

Marjorie flopped back in her seat and sighed impatiently. Mac laughed.

"You're even more jittery than I am, Mum," his eyes were sparkling.

"What did ye expect?" Marjorie laughed back, but her tone took on exasperation. Her eyes were sparkling too... wide, bright green eyes identical to her son's. "I'm dying for a glimpse of yer lassie. Pictures are all well an' good but... well... they don't tell much. I want t'hold her in my arms... hear her voice...  see how she smiles..."

"She's got the kind of smile that makes you melt inside like snow in sunshine," Mac sighed dreamily. "And a voice like notes of music... sweet and soft and gentle."

"She's turnin' ye into a regular poet, Mackie," Marjorie grinned as color rushed over Mac's face. "Ye ought to write that down."

"Aw, shucks," Mac mumbled and turned to stare fixedly out the window. The next station was announced... still much too far from Jefferson to satisfy the impatient Scotts... and the train slowed to a stop. Jafe, who had been snoring in the seat opposite Mac and Marjorie ever since lunch had been served, woke up with a start and stared around him wildly.

"What is it?" He blinked in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. "Suppertime?"

"Not yet, you hungry old bear," Mac snickered and Jafe narrowed his eyes.

"Teatime, then." Jafe persisted stubbornly.

"Teatime?" Mac assumed a drawling Texan accent. "This here's the US, pal. We don't drink tea round here. What are ya, British?"

"Hippocrite." Jafe kicked Mac's boot. "You yourself drink a gallon of tea every morning."

"Boys..." Marjorie reprimanded gently, as if they were still children. In a way they were. They were of the sort that remained little boys at heart.

"She wants a different topic, Jafe," Mac said in the same reprimanding tone, wagging his head at his uncle. 

"Then it's story-time," Jafe grinned. "I hear the English are good at telling stories, eh, Mr. Wilfred Tea-drinker?"

"Yeah, a story... like the one when Mum skinned you alive for trying to drown me while I was innocently sleeping," Mac answered airily.

"More like you viciously attacked me for trying to get you up in time for chores."

"And you were wearing boots in the house," Mac added. "Again. Tracked mud all over. I remember you down on your prayer bones with a bucket and scrub brush, washing up all them footprints while Mum stood there and watched..." he laughed, and got another kick as consequence.  

"Alright, alright, enough with that, you two," Marjorie raised her eyebrows in warning and both fell silent. When Marjorie Scott raised her eyebrows, those who knew better weren't about to take any chances. "I remember that day," she went on, laughing softly. "I was sick and the pair o' ye were trying to wreck the house. Shame on ye both for 't. And I'll tell ye the way of it, ye were both at fault. Remember?"

"Heh. Ain't likely to forget," Mac grinned, drifting into the memory in spite of the correction he was getting even then for his "ain’t".

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"Come on, kid, you ain't sleeping in again," Jafe's booming voice rattled Mac out of a heavy sleep. He tried to sit up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, but fell back against his pillow with a groan. 

"Don't wanna get up," he grumbled, pulling the covers over his head.

The next thing he knew, he was being forcefully dragged from the bed, covers and all, to be unceremoniously dumped on the floor. He groaned in protest, kicking at Jafe and not succeeding in hitting his target at all.

"Five minutes and you be dressed and on your way out to the barn," Jafe said threateningly. Mac didn't move. "Ya hear me?" Jafe gave the pile of blankets and Mac a playful kick.

"Aye, sure, whatever," Mac mumbled. He listened to Jafe's heavy boots tromping out the door.

"Mum's gonna kill you for wearin' boots in the house," he yelled after his uncle, but got no answer. he hated it when Uncle Jafe woke him up. Mum was so much nicer about it. Where was she anyway? He listened a moment to the creaking of the floor and decided that she must, strangely enough, still be in bed. Jafe's were the only footsteps he could hear.

He glanced out the window, took note that it was pitch black, ragingly windy, and raining sleet. Muttering in disgust, he rolled himself up in the blankets like a cocoon and fell asleep within moments, there on the floor.

How long he slept, he didn't know, but it couldn't have been long before he heard Uncle Jafe again. Mac was awake now, but pretended to be asleep, listening to his uncle tromp out of the room and return again within a few minutes.

"Alright, kid, this is the last straw," he unrolled Mac from the blankets, laughing as the boy stretched out on the bare floor, apparently still fast asleep. "Okay, now you're just being stubborn. Oh well..." he sighed in resignation. "You asked for it."

In another moment, Mac jumped in the air, yelping, as Jafe mercilessly dumped an entire bucket of water on his head.

"I'm gonna kill you for that, see if I don't," Mac exploded, shaking water from his hair.

"Take it easy, kid," Jafe laughed, as Mac ran at him headlong, full-speed. “Hey!” He bowled over backwards and hit the floor hard as Mac collided with him.

“There, see?” Mac laughed, backing up for another go. All the anger had gone out of him with the first attack and the second was purely for the fun of it. But this time, Jafe was ready for it and on his feet again. Before Mac had completely reached him, he had snatched him up around the middle and lifted him off his feet. Kicking and punching wildly, Mac managed to land a few good hits, but only barely before he got flipped over his uncle’s shoulder and went sailing into oblivion.

Thank goodness Jafe’s aim was good, or else he would have been in serious trouble. Mac landed smack on his bed with a wild cry that sounded terrifyingly like an Indian war whoop or maybe the fighting scream of a moose. 

“Mackie?” Marjorie cried from down the hall. “Are you okay?” 

There was a pause. Mac and Jafe exchanged glances. Mac’s eyes sparkled, the corners of Jafe’s mouth twitched. And in another moment, they both burst into hysterical laughter.

“Malcom Isaac Scott? What in heaven’s name is going on in there? And Japheth Alastair Scott, are you in on this?”

“Just getting ready for chores, Mum,” Mac yelled back. He grinned at Jafe and then fell back on the bed again. “Hand me my blankets, my unworthy slave,” he waved a hand nonchalantly at the tangled mess on the floor. 

“Here ya go, you lazy rascal,” Jafe scooped the covers up and dumped them on Mac’s head. As Mac prepared to go to sleep again, Jafe picked up a second bucket which Mac had not seen before, and poured it deliberately over the full length of the bed. Mac bounced up again, his eyes shooting wild sparks. 

“ATTACK!” he screamed and launched himself from the bed onto Jafe’s shoulders. Both went down like a ton of bricks and within moments, Marjorie Scott was standing in the doorway, pale and shivering, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, and her face a mixture of shock, horror, and righteous anger. Her eyebrows were raised higher than both boys had ever seen them before.

A few minutes thereafter, Mac and Jafe, having untangled themselves in a fearful hurry, were changed into dry clothes and on their way to the barn, double-time.  

♡♡♡

Katie sank to the porch steps, shading her eyes as she looked out over the pastures. Ronnie's cows were roaming contentedly through the clover and she smiled to see them. Cows were such placid, gentle creatures... and they didn't seem to have a care in the world. They made her feel... peaceful. 

She turned to the lane, scanning the long gravel pathway with its overhead arch of trees. She could just barely see the mailbox far down at the end. No sign of the car yet. With a sigh, she lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. It had been a long, long time since she had just sat on these steps. 

The others were all at the train station now, to pick up her Mac. She had hung back, preferring to meet him here, at home. As eager as she was to see him, she didn't want to go to the train station again... where so many sad departures overshadowed even the most joyous of returns. And today somehow, one of those sad memories hung heavy on her mind. She wanted to shake it off... it didn't belong with today. Today was... the beginning of a new life for her. And she wanted today to be happy.

"I want to tell you something," a voice from the past echoed through her mind and she wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering. "The sun's gonna shine again, Katie."

"I don't know about that," Katie heard her own voice answering and she shook her head wildly, trying to rid herself of those days. 

"I was wrong," she murmured out loud, raising her face defiantly to the sky. "The sun is shining again, it is! And it will shine for always, please God..."

Mere minutes later when she was in Mac's arms, being spun wildly around and laughing so hard she thought she would burst, she knew it was true. The sun was shining again for her. There would be clouds... there might even be thunderstorms... but they would pass. And today... today was beautiful.