Mama was crying because Papa had been called out to deliver a baby and she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to play her music with him gone. Mrs. Stonecliff became cross because the girls in her charge were trying her patience with their tea party as she tried to soothe their mother.
When Addie spilled water and rushed for a towel to clean it up, Mrs. Stonecliff understood it to be running in the house and demanded that the girls all go outside to play.
"Mrs. Stonecliff," Dorian informed her politely, measuring her tone of voice carefully. "It rained this morning. It's muddy in the yard."
"Well, then, put on your galoshes and go out to your playhouse. I'll call you in when it's time to have your dinner, and mind you don't come back dirty or there'll be no dinner. Understood?"
All three girls nodded to her soberly as they pulled on their boots. Not a word was said as they trudged outside. As they made their way to their playhouse, Melinda quickly found a clear puddle and jumped in it, splashing water and grinning.
Dorian smiled at her quietly.
"You'd better not get me dirty," Addie told her sisters. "I'm already hungry."
The playhouse had not been opened for a few days and it smelled musty and damp, but was no less wonderful. This miniature, pretend version of a house was a world they created themselves -- far from the reality of whispering in their rooms while Mama played piano or stealing moments with Papa when he wasn't busy. Here, they were in control of what happened around them.
Dorian immediately spied a doll in a fancy pink dress that one of them had left behind the last time they had played there and cradled it in her arms as Melinda found some old dishes and pretended to make dinner. Addie tied back the curtains Mrs. Stonecliff had made for them and started tidying up with a toy broom.
All seemed to be clear and bright and peaceful until Dorian tucked the doll into a cradle they had fashioned from a wooden crate. She and Addie held their fingers to their lips as Melinda looked around to see what was happening.
Addie put the broom down and hummed softly as Dorian took a pretend cup of tea from Melinda. Melinda clanked a dish as she returned to her imaginary dinner preparations and Addie hushed her severely. "Shh!" she scolded. "The baby is sleeping."
Melinda pouted and hung her head low as Dorian blinked at the two of them, observing carefully.
Addie moved toward the baby -- the doll -- as if to pick it up, but Dorian blocked the way protectively, fixing her gaze on her sister. "She's okay," Dorian whispered. "She didn't wake up," she insisted.
Addie looked over Dorian's shoulder skeptically, but they both jerked their heads toward Melinda as she clanked her pots and pans loudly. Dorian was sure her little sister had done it on purpose, in protest to Addie's scolding.
Addie was certain of it, too, and grabbed Melinda's forearm tightly, jerking her away from their pretend food. "Stop it!" she demanded, under her breath.
Tears formed in Melinda's eyes. "You're hurting me!" she said aloud, trying to pry Addie's hand off of her.
Addie let go with a frown. Melinda had broken their fantasy.
Dorian breathed a sigh of relief and gathered the doll into her arms, rocking it again. "Now she's crying," she informed her sisters unhappily.
Addie sighed. "Here, let me take her," she offered, holding her arms out to Dorian.
Dorian turned, keeping the doll away from Addie. "No, I've got her," she protested adamantly.
Addie paused, taken aback. "Dorian, let me have her," she insisted. "She's my doll."
Addie was right. The doll did belong to her in reality. Still, Dorian had her first. She stood and walked away, keeping the doll in front of her and her back to Addie.
"Dorian, I mean it," Addie challenged loudly. "Give her to me!"
"No," Dorian stated bluntly. "She wants to be with me."
"Give her to me!" Addie repeated more heatedly and more loudly.
"I won't," Dorian bit back at her.
Now it was Melinda who blinked at her sisters, backing up toward the wall.
Addie reached around Dorian and jerked the doll out of her sister's arms before Dorian even had time to react. She rushed out of the playhouse door with Dorian on her heels.
"I had her first!" Dorian yelled at her sister, grasping at the doll.
"She's mine!" Addie argued again.
Dorian tugged her sister's hair and clawed at the doll. "I was rocking her! You took her from me! Give her back!"
Addie grabbed Dorian's hair in return and held it in her fist. "Don't pull my hair!"
Melinda crept to the doorway of the playhouse and took in the display carefully, biting her nails.
Dorian screeched and used both of her hands to free her hair from Addie's fist before grabbing at the doll again. Now she didn't even care about pretending anymore. It was the principle of the injustice.
She had almost seized the doll when Addie gave her a quick shove. Dorian clenched her jaw and pushed back, knocking Addie down into the mud. She couldn't help but smirk down at Addie as she lay there on the ground in shock, collecting herself with the doll still firmly hugged against her chest.
Addie had no doubt that Mrs. Stonecliff would be furious that she was dirty, and it was Dorian's fault. On top of that knowledge, Dorian's smirk pushed her over the edge. "You'll pay for this," she growled, hurling her doll at Dorian like a weapon and she clamored up from the wet yard and headed back into the playhouse.
Dorian dodged the doll and let it fall into the grass behind her. She already knew what Addie was after -- the toy broom.
In anticipation of what was about to ensue, Dorian chased Addie. Melinda barely stepped out of the way in time to avoid being knocked against the doorframe.
Sure enough, Addie had already grabbed the broom; but, sensing Dorian's defensive maneuvers, now held it more to block Dorian than as a weapon.
They were both furious, and there was no doubt they had hurt each other's feelings. The doll that had started it all was completely forgotten, and would remain so. Years later, as they remembered this day, no one would be able to recall what, exactly, had started the disagreement.
Now they were both fighting in their own defense and out of their instinctive need to come out on top. With the adults in their life, they were always being put in their place and shoved to the side, so with each other there was a consistent power struggle for dominance.
Addie thrust at Dorian to keep her at bay, and Dorian grabbed the broom handle. They each pushed and pulled for several moments before Dorian had the epiphany to let go.
She released the broom handle just as Addie gave a hard tug and Addie went tumbling and flailing backwards through the cracked dishes and old pots and pans that served as their play kitchen. She was even more stunned than she had been the first time she fell, and lay there in the rubble of what had been Melinda's dinner with broken plates surrounding her. She closed her eyes and pretended to be dead.
Melinda's eyes widened as she peeked around the corner and saw Addie sprawled on the playhouse floor and Dorian standing over her panting as if she'd just won an epic battle. "Dori, you killed her," Melinda whispered, frightened.
"Oh, I didn't kill her," Dorian assured her little sister. "Ha ha ha, Addie. Quit pretending."
Addie didn't respond.
Dorian kicked at her sister's leg. "Get up, Addie," she commanded.
Melinda's lip quivered. "What will Mama and Papa think?" she wanted to know.
"Melinda!" Dorian growled at her sister. "She isn't dead!" She paused, tilting her head sideways as she looked at Addie. She didn't look dead.
Dorian kicked Addie's leg again -- not very hard, as she was now starting to become frightened that she had actually hurt Addie. "Addie!" she called out angrily, with a hint of desperation. "Quit faking! You're scaring Melinda!"
Addie's eyes jerked open and she glared hatefully at Dorian. "I'm not faking," she hissed. "I'm probably going to die."
Dorian couldn't help but laugh at her. "You see, Melinda? She was just fine, all along!"
Addie groaned and grimaced, obviously pretending she was really hurt. Dorian reached down and pinched her sister in an attempt to prove that she was just fine.
Addie screeched at Dorian as a hateful gloss filled her eyes and she jumped up off the floor. "You're going to pay for that!"
Dorian wanted to cry, but her anger at her sister precluded it. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Stonecliff that you broke the dishes and tried to trick us into thinking you were dead!" she yelled.
"Yeah!" Melinda agreed, clearly as unhappy with Addie's fake death as Dorian was.
Addie ignored Melinda. Dorian had uttered the worst possible, practically unmentionable, threat. All three girls knew better than to ever tell on each other. To tattle was to spell doom. It was raising the stakes. It was taking a personal fight that they could seemingly handle themselves to adults who wouldn't understand and would deliver much worse consequences.
"Take it back," Addie said with an unnatural calm. "You aren't going to tell on me."
"Yes, I am," Dorian insisted wickedly. "And I'm going to tell her that you're all muddy, too." Dorian spun and stepped toward the door.
Addie completely lost her cool in reaction to the ultimate threat, and jerked Dorian back into the playhouse by the back of her dress. "You won't tell!" she yelled. "You won't! You won't!"
"I will!" Dorian screamed at her, now angry that Addie was getting the upper hand.
"If you even try to tell, I'll kill you!"
"Ha!" Dorian argued. "Now I'm going to tell them you threatened to kill me!"
In a surprising maneuver, Addie suddenly barged out of the playhouse. The unexpectedness of the action made it that much more frightening. Dorian grabbed Melinda reassuringly as they carefully watched Addie head for the toolshed.
Papa had an air rifle that he kept hidden in his shed behind some shelves. He used it to scare off coyotes or stray dogs that might chase the horses. It only shot pellets and BBs, but his children were fully aware that the gun was not a toy. When they were small, they were not big enough or strong enough to move the shelves, so the gun was tucked safely away despite his warnings.
Addie used a rake handle as a lever and moved the shelf just far enough from the wall to reach behind it. She knew how to work the rifle.
Dorian gasped and made a break for it when she saw Addie come back out of the shed with the gun. Addie stood just outside the door of the shed, pumping the gun. She didn't really want to kill Dorian -- hurt her maybe -- scare her definitely. She could tell she was achieving her goal and it felt really good to be the one in control for once in her life.
Dorian ducked behind a tree. She could hear as a pellet or BB hit the other side of her shield. She waited silently, holding her breath, hoping Addie would calm down.
Addie was already starting to calm down, but could not let go of the fact that she was in complete control of the situation. She fired another BB into the tree Dorian was hiding behind.
Dorian waited a moment until she felt it was safe to look around the tree. "Addie, please stop!" she called out to her sister, carefully looking back toward the shed.
Addie was still holding the gun, pointing it toward the tree, but what worried Dorian the most was that Melinda was now running across the yard toward the tree as if she were involved in some sort of sick and exciting game. Addie kept the gun at the ready.
"Melinda, get behind a tree!" Dorian called out desperately. "Hide!"
Melinda hid behind the tree closest to Dorian and smiled as if she were playing a happy-go-lucky game of hide-and-seek. Dorian weighed her options. She could try to wait Addie out, hoping that her sister would calm down or get tired, or that someone would come to rescue them. She could call Addie's bluff and challenge her, facing her down while praying she didn't shoot. She could circle around from tree to tree and head for the protection of the house, where Mrs. Stonecliff would undoubtedly turn them away.
Despite the dismal outcome the third might hold, she opted for it, running toward the tree where Melinda was hiding. As she ran, she could hear the pop of the gun and the snapping sound the BB made as it hit the ground near her.
Out of breath, Dorian grasped Melinda's hand and called out to Addie. "You know you're going to be in so much trouble if you get caught with Papa's gun!"
Addie didn't seem to be very worried about getting caught. Nothing could touch her at that moment. She playfully fired another shot at the tree, with really no intention of hurting either of her sisters.
Dorian knew it would take Addie at least a few moments to pump the air rifle again, and she ran to the next tree, tugging Melinda along with her. The tactic wasn't really working. Melinda hindered her, and they couldn't both fit behind this new tree without at least part of someone being exposed. Dorian didn't want Melinda to get hurt any more than herself, so she changed tactics on the fly.
Addie fired another shot and the BB whizzed by the tree. Dorian saw the leaf that it hit on the ground nearby. Again, she grasped Melinda's hand and drug her along as she ran straight toward Addie.
Addie laughed teasingly and headed inside the tool shed. Dorian and Melinda stood in the doorway and watched as Addie tucked the gun back into place and pushed with all her might to try to get the shelf back in place. It didn't move very much, but it would have to do.
She sighed, checking to see how obvious it would be to Papa that someone had tampered with his things. Dorian had the upper hand again. "I wasn't really trying to shoot you," she informed.
Melinda seemed innocent, uninvolved, and clueless as to the severity of the situation, as if it were perfectly normal for sisters to treat each other in such a way.
Dorian's eyes, however, revealed the pain neither of the two elder sisters cared to share. "You could have accidentally hurt us," she whispered insistently. "You could have accidentally shot Melinda."
"Dorian," Addie argued quietly and calmly. "I wasn't even really aiming at you."
"Like the time you didn't really try to cut my hand," Dorian offered, reminding Addie of another violent situation the two of them had found themselves in one day when they were briefly left unsupervised.
Addie had been cutting a slice of bread in the kitchen when Dorian noticed that she was smashing the loaf by pressing through it with the knife instead of sawing lightly through the crust.
When Dorian had informed her sister of this and offered to show her the proper way to cut the bread, Addie had taken it as an insult and an argument ensued, which resulted in them circling around the kitchen table for five minutes -- Addie with the knife in her hand and Dorian trying to stay on the opposite side at all costs.
Dorian had called Addie's bluff that time, too, and allowed Addie to corner where two sides of the kitchen counter met.
Addie had brandished the knife like a weapon, swinging it back and forth in front of Dorian. If Dorian had been able to see the situation from the outside, she would have been able to tell that Addie was merely teasing, but being cornered by a knife frighted Dorian and she panicked.
She did the only thing she could think to do to stop her sister from threatening her. She grabbed the blade of the knife.
Addie had dropped the knife in shock when she realized what Dorian was doing, but it was too late. Dorian had already cut the palm of her hand. It wasn't a deep wound, but it was bleeding.
They had both cried afterward, separately, helplessly. Addie was sure that Dorian had grabbed the knife just to get her in trouble -- just to convince her parents that she had hurt her sister on purpose. Meanwhile, Dorian was sure that Addie had really meant to harm her, and she had done the right thing by taking a small injury to prevent a worse outcome.
When Papa noticed Dorian's wound later on and asked what had happened, she replied without missing a beat. "I fell on a piece of tin beside the garage." She didn't blink as she lied, and she didn't look at Addie.
Dorian was a good liar. If she had looked at Addie for confirmation or just in self-righteousness, her father would have known there was more to the story. He also would have figured out that the girls had been left unsupervised, which would have made him angry with Mama and Mrs. Stonecliff. If Papa was cross with Mama or if Mrs. Stonecliff got in trouble, it would fall on the shoulders of the three little girls.
In their young lives, they had all learned quickly to anticipate trouble, and prevent it as often as they were able to.
Now, standing in the tool shed, their choices were laid out before them.
"I didn't try to cut your hand," Addie told Dorian regretfully. "You grabbed the blade."
"You were scaring me," Dorian told her.
Addie wasn't sure if Dorian was still talking about the knife or had moved on to this incident with the gun. "I wasn't going to hurt you," she said, sounding sincere.
"Girls!" a voice rang out from the back door of the house. "Dinner!"
Their eyes widened at the sound. It only took moments for Dorian to formulate a plan. "Melinda," she ordered her little sister. "Go in slowly, and when you get there, if they ask, tell them we're coming."
Melinda nodded once, knowing they might be in trouble, and carefully headed toward the house.
"Addie, stay here. I'll go in the front door and bring you a clean dress."
With any luck, Mrs. Stonecliff and Mama would be so distracted with Mama's concerns that they wouldn't even notice the change in Addie's wardrobe, and no one would get in trouble.
It would have been easy enough for Addie to show up muddy and have to miss dinner if Papa were home. Dorian would have just snuck food up to Addie later. But when Papa wasn't home and Mrs. Stonecliff's attention was diverted by Mama, it was not a good idea to get into trouble. Worse things could happen than missing dinner.
Their plan played out flawlessly. Papa was a bit unhappy when he found Addie's sopping wet doll in the yard a couple of days later, but none of the sisters ever revealed to the adults in their lives what had really happened that day. The doll was cleaned. No harm, no foul, and no one was beaten or locked away for endless hours.
In fact, that night there had been a thunderstorm, and the three girls had happily all crawled into bed together to protect each other from the night. Downstairs, Mama was playing the piano, lulling them to sleep, and they knew Papa was smiling as he listened to her. They loved each other, and all was warm and beautiful and right with the world.