Day 12: Future Friends?

 "Shoo shoo shoo!" she urged her chickens out of the coop into the afternoon sun. " I can't clean with you feather dusters underfoot." She gave the big black rooster some encouragement with her broom. He squawked and tried to land with some dignity in the yard. She checked the corners for any stragglers and wiped her brow with her kerchief. 

"Hello? Hello?" A mans voice called from the front gate. 

"In the coop." she hollered back, stirring feathers and dust as she worked. When she heard a hearty yelp come from the yard she poked her head out the door. A tall, broad shouldered man with wiry red hair was being accosted by the rooster. He batted at the black ball of rage with his hat, dancing backwards from its sharp spurs. 

Marching out into the fray she swung her broom with a purpose. "Oh Brutus you old buzzard!" She growled as the broom connected and sent the rooster to the ground. With a gloved hand she picked him up by the tail and threw him in the tool shed and shut the door.

" I'm sorry about that. I forgot he doesn't like other men around his flock." She dusted off her skirt and apron and looked again at the man before her. He had an honest face and a strong chin. He wore a button down shirt, hide britches, and sturdy boots. "I'm Mistress Briar," she said taking off her glove and extending a hand, "the village wise woman. Can I help you?"

He took her hand with a broad grin, "names Michael, mistress, Michael Stag. May I say you wield that broom with a vengeance. I'm glad I'm not that rooster." He adjusted his collar and straightened." I was told that if I wanted to start the harvest season with good fortune I should come see you." He was younger than she first thought. Not boyish, but still a young man with the look of building a future in his eyes. 

"If this is your first year farmer Stag, you should have come to see me in the spring as well." She beckoned him to follow as she leaned her broom on the fence and headed to her cottage.

" I'm new to the area just this fall. My uncle passed suddenly and I'm here helping my aunt bring the in the crop. She's planning to use the money to move to her sister's and leave the farmland to me." He ducked the low door frame to enter her home. The rafters hung heavy with drying herbs, garlic, and onions. A table near  the hearth was arranged with jars and bottles of different plants with a worn mortar and pestle near by. The floor was scrubbed clean the shelves neatly organized with kitchen tools and dishes. 

" Take a chair." she pointed to the wicker chair near the table as she gathered a few items from her pantry. " I knew your uncle Elias Stag. He used to scare me when I was little girl by showing me his wooden leg and telling me an evil witch had cursed him."

"He told me that same." He chuckled. "We must be nearly the same age." The chair groaned as he sat. He looked worried for a moment, but the chair held. He watched her pour two cups of tea and pull two biscuits from a tin. She was beautiful like weathered wood, wind and rain making it smooth and tough. Freckles sprouted where the sun had kissed her cheeks and arms. Her apron was dirty but her hands where clean. "How did you become the wise woman so young?"

"Belinda, my teacher, passed last winter. She left her home, the village, and her animals in my care. I had hoped to be apprentice to her for much longer." She retied her bush of brown hair tightly beneath her kerchief and took the chair opposite. She leaned across the table and held out her hand. "Let me see your palm. I give all new comers their first reading free."

He raised an eyebrow and laid his big hand palm up in hers. She traced the lines in his hand, frowned, then shook her head. "Strange. I can read all of your past but none of your future. I will consult the bones." She retrieved a small leather sack and poured it's contents on the table. The tiny white bird bones clacked on the wood. She leaned over them quizzically and then straightened with a shrug. "The bones tell me nothing." She scooped them back into the pouch. "You are a difficult read Mr. Stag." 

"Is that a good thing?" He sipped his tea calmly but a tinge of worry colored his tone.

"It only means that I cannot read you today. Perhaps another time. Drink your tea." She replaced the pouch on the shelf but her hand shook a little. Then she began quickly gathering herbs and few other jars. He watched her work, she did not look at him for a while. Drinking his tea he noticed he began to feel refreshed and more peaceful. The ache in his right shoulder was lessening. The biscuit was spiced, sharp to the taste and miraculously filling. 

"My aunt says you tried to save him. My uncle I mean." He said testing the silence. 

She sighed heavily and paused in grinding the pungent herbs with her mortar. "I  tried. My medicine can't help if it's their time to go. Sometimes that's more sudden than most are ready for." She knit her brow together as she looked at him and then began grinding again. Then she poured the powder into a large paper packet and sealed it with wax. "Sprinkle this on the border of  your fields. It will keep the pests away until you can bring in the whole harvest. No charge. Your aunt is a friend and I'll miss her."

"Thank you," He said, " for this, and the tea." He rose from his chair and headed for the door. 

"Will you come back next week?" She asked as he was ducking out the door.

"Come back?"

"Yes, I, um, I have some heavy work I need done around here before the winter and I would pay you for your time."

" I'll see when I can get away." He smiled. "Good bye Mistress Briar." He closed her gate and whistled while he walked down the road toward town. 

She stood in the doorway and puzzled over the man named Michael Stag. If she could not read him, that could only mean he was heavily part of her own future. She chewed her lip. A man in her future could mean anything, but she had an itch between her shoulder blades that told her he liked her. The smile pulling at her lips told her she probably liked him too. Shaking her head she shut her door and went to make dinner. 

Fifteen minutes later she burst out the front door and ran to the coop. She had forgotten Brutus in the tool shed.