Following Rabbits
“I’ll guess it,” Lacie said smiling, scratching her chin as she thought about it. As she thought, John bit into his biscuit wincing at the pain in his gums. He was losing his teeth again, just like he did as a boy Elsie’s age; this time, though, he didn’t think they’d be growing back. As he chewed, sniffling, and smiling at his daughter, there came a pounding on the door.
Before either John or Meredith could stand up, the door opened and in stepped a large hulk of a man wearing a long black coat over a dark black shirt. The man had a huge face covered in a well kempt beard. He wore a hat on his head — one that John had made and given to him several months back. John was glad to see that it was standing up to wear.
“Good evening, Mr. Williams, Mrs. Williams,” the man said at the door doffing his hat and smiling at the children. His eyes, John noticed, paused for a long time on Tillie. The man’s tongue snaked out of his mouth and wet his upper lip. He looked at John for a moment, then turned his attention to Meredith, that tongue snaking out again. “Looks like I busted in at tea time.”
“Yes,” Meredith said. Her tone was angry, but she smiled at him, and John noted that the smile made it to her eyes. “How are you, Brom?”
“I’m wonderful, ma’am, but the wind’s turning cold finally. I think winter’s here, full force.”
“You’re probably right,” she said. The two held their gaze without looking away. “I’ve noticed that some of the winter birds are back.”
Brom’s smile was as huge as the rest of him, and he nodded at Meredith. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it, “But can I borrow your husband for just a moment. We need to discuss some business matters.”
“It can’t wait till after tea?” Meredith asked. Again, there was the tone, but the smile was genuine.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s urgent.”
“Very well,” she said and looked away from him and back down at the table. John sighed softly, wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.
“Outside?” he asked.
“Why not?” Brom said opening the door and stepping outside.
John grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders. “I’ll be back,” he said. Lacie and Elsie looked up as he said this. Meredith and Tillie did not.
When John stepped out, Brom had walked most of the way to the work shed and was waiting on him. He bundled his coat around his scrawny shoulders and shuddered in the cold air. Brom stood with his back to John, his hands on his large hips. He stood staring into the trees that surrounded the house. There was no telling what was hiding within those woods.
“Brom, listen, I—” but before John could utter his sentence, Brom had spun around, taken him by the lapels, and slammed him up against the work shed hard enough for John’s breath to come out in a frigid cloud between them. Snot and spit slid from his face and landed on the front of his coat.
“You listen to me, hatter,” Brom said, his face mere inches from John’s. “You still owe me money, and I’m getting rather impatient with you.”
“That’s just it,” John said shakily. He could feel the sweat rolling down his body despite his shivering muscles. “I’m going to the market tomorrow morning. I should have some money for you when I return.”
Brom slammed him against the shed again. John’s head bounced off the old gray wood with a dull thack. “I’m getting real weary of this entire business arrangement,” Brom snarled. “You don’t think I’m a fool, do you?”
John’s mouth fell open. “No, of course not, Brom. I think you’re a shrewd—”
Thack! John bounced off the shed walls again, and a distant faraway thought hopped through his head that the entire work shed could come down after a few more of those.
“I want a hundred shillings the next time I see you,” Brom said.
“But, but, but,” John stuttered, his eyelid fluttering like mad now, and the fingers on his right hand twitching as well. “A hundred shillings? That’s ten hats. I don’t know if I can sell ten hats in one day—”
“I want a hundred, hatter. Or perhaps I should start doing business with Missus Hatter.”
“Now look, Brom—”
“Or maybe little Tillie. Looks just like her mamma, don’t she?”
“I’ll try to have a hundred shillings by tomorrow night,” John said. Despite the coldness of both his wife and oldest daughter, he was repulsed at the idea of what John was insinuating.
“Make sure that you do, hatter,” Brom said and dropped John’s lapels. Brom adjusted the collar of his large black coat and sniffed loudly into the evening sky. “Make sure that you do.”
very very good