War

I sighed. “Past noon now.” The sun burned my face, drove my skin into canyons of weather and erosion around my dark eyes. I had to squint to keep the bright grassy glare away. Hunger tore at the silence of the field surrounding me, growling and grunting angrily with the same vibrato as the bleating sheep that littered the hillside like dollops of cotton. Soil had crawled past the moss which suppressed it and migrated unfalteringly onto my bronzed likeness. 

Clad in dirt and miserable, I drew my gaze to the stone wall separating the MacAllister farm from my own square of grass. Just before the stone crawled into a corner, there was a wooden table, with one wooden stool. From here I could see the dark oak, so wet that it had begun to splinter into velvet and was near the color of coal. My chest fell as an impatient breath spilled over my lips. I dug my hand into the depth of my trouser pocket, groping its emptiness before scooping a rectangular paper box into my palm. Before I could look at the cards, I felt the corners of the box breaking apart beneath my fingers. Small fibers that couldn’t withstand the perspiration. I sighed. 

My head drew up when a sharp whistle cut through the air. Like a dog my attention was caught, happy to see my friend finally at the table by the wall that was wearing away like the cards in my hands. He threw his hand up to wave, pale fingertips  cutting through the cold air, woolen gloves covering up to his knuckles. I started toward him with a jump in my knees and a sway to my chest as I jogged. “Tavish!” I sighed. 

He threw his palm in my face, plaid jacket wrinkling around his slim shoulders. “My Dad kept me over cleaning out the stalls.” He whined. 

“Let’s get to it then, the sun’ll be down soon.” I gathered the fabric of my trousers and pulled them up my knee to sit on the stool. 

Tavish brushed a red curl from his face. “I don’t like sitting on the wall. Dad has me in a saddle all day.”

“Is a stool any better?” I argued. 

“The rain makes it soft.” His cheeks fell. 

I paused for a moment, my box of cards already square in the center of the table and my arm ready to pass them out. “Alright.” I mumbled.  I got up and swung my leg over the stone wall, face contorting as my skin crawled under the shock of cold rain seeping into my pants. He sat happily on the stool and gave himself sixteen cards, and me the same. I sighed. 

“Will you ever learn how to play Go Fish?” He questioned loudly. I knew he’d say that. He said it every Wednesday. 

“Maybe if it means you’ll finally lose.” I huffed. 

“Hey,” He shuffled through his cards, holding them so close to his nose that hot steam bounced off their surface. “Don’t be a sore loser.” 

There was a bottle on the double wall behind me. The dark ark amber reflected the sun just right, and just under Tavish’s eye was a bright glare of light. I thought he might not be able to see, but if he wasn’t going to say something, I wasn’t. Maybe I’d be able to win because of it. He put a card face down against the table, and I did too. Our fingers lay pinching the corner, ready to flip it over when either one of us nodded. His head bobbed and through competitively squinted eyes, we flipped the cards. My three to his six. I sighed. 

He chuckled to himself, drawing the card aside to be the start of his accumulative pile. Again we drew cards face down, then flipped. My two to his nine. This time, he nodded and I drew early, my Jack! My eyes gleamed, cheeks burning now for his card to flip. A King. The festering anxiety in my chest brewed into raw discontent. Tavish laughed, his stack climbed higher, and mine began where the table’s flat top did. I sighed. 

I had two cards now, and as I switched them around, he too arranged his deck. He’d steal a glance past me, almost feverishly, then shuffle. I don’t remember any rule against it in War. But for an odds game I found it strange to be necessary at all. I slowly put my second to last card face down against the oak. He nodded nonchalantly and quickly flipped his card to reveal a Queen. I blinked slowly, heart pounding, yet discouraged. I flipped the card. My expression froze- eyes dry, muscles unresponsive. A two. My lip quivered through a small snarl. I sighed.

“Here, just take it.” I tossed the only card I had across the table. It caught air and sliced through his stack. I swung my leg over the wall, starting down the hillside and back into the village. 

“Hey,” He called after me. “It’s a game! Your cards!”

I spun around on my heels, twisting the grass from the ground and packing the rivets in my soles with soil. “I don’t wanna lose every week, Tavish! It’s ‘War Wednesday’, not ‘Lose Wednesday’! Not ‘Be a loser every Wednesday’! You’re the dumbest in the village, and I lose to you- every week,” I threw my hands up. After following the glint in his eye, my shoulders slumped. I sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Tavish,” My voice was soft. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”

He shook his head, “No, it’s true. I am dumb.” The blue of his eyes became glazed as I approached him. His bottom lip curled into a shivering wave of pity. 

I sighed. My chest was tightened by shame as I felt the damage my words had done. He finally looked up at me, a single tear escaped the border of his eye, carving a bright path through the dirt that was caked on his face. I smiled meekly, hesitating before dropping a firm hand on his shoulder, jostling him. “I’ll see you next Wednesday, Tav.”

His face lit up, beet red peeking through the patches of skin visible under the toil of shepherding. He nodded wildly, head unhinged. “Okay,” I laughed. “Why don’t you head to the village, I’ll catch up, let me get my cards.” I sighed. 

As he began down the hill, I approached the table, feelings awry and shoulders low. I couldn’t believe that I’d allow myself to say those things to someone so vulnerable to judgement. Though he was known for his simple-mindedness, it was the vibrancy of him that made any offense toward him greater than if it were toward anyone else. I collected my cards under my fingers before the glare against that bottle stabbed the surface of my eye. I slammed my eyelid shut, hand rushing to my face. I sighed. 

“Stupid bottle.” As I glanced at it, the silhouette of my cards on the table's surface reflected perfectly within the dark amber. My jaw fell softly unhinged. Slowly, my head followed the direction of Tavish, skipping innocently down the hillside. The sun had begun to surrender to the tree-line and darkness crept in like a rolling cloud. The card flipped over my knuckles before falling in a flurry to the grass. I sighed.