There was a knock on the door, and I was about to answer it when my father jumped up.
"I got it!" He yelled. I let him get it. I poured him out a bowl of oatmeal, and set it on the table. I was about to go out and start the chores when I heard something from outside.
"Excuse me, sir, but do you have any-?" An unfamiliar voice asked.
"Get in here," My father said gruffly in his no-nonsense voice. I heard footsteps and I hesitated at the back door. What was going on? "I was wondering when you were going to show up at my door." He said.
"Father?" I called.
"Henry!" He said, as if remembering I still existed. "Make two more bowls of oatmeal!" I didn't question him, I just got it done. I rationed them out in bowls and set them on the table next to my father's. As I stepped near the table, I saw two children in front of my father. One was taller than me, about my age, with chestnut hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was dressed in tattered clothing, with no shoes on his feet. There was a little girl cowering next to him, clinging to his leg. She had straight brown hair and brown eyes. They both had fairly pale complexions, and they looked frozen with fear and cold.
"Father?" I asked. "The oatmeal is ready." I said. All three of them looked at me, and I felt a lot smaller than I was.
"Ah, yes," My father said. He looked at the two meaningfully. "Well, go on then," He said kindly, in a voice that I haven't heard in so long. They all moved to the table, and the two sat down at the table in front of the two bowls of oatmeal I just laid out. They ate silently, as if they were trying to slow down but they just did not know when the next time they would eat would be.
"Henry." My father said. I looked at him. "I want you to make up two new beds, one for each of these two, and put one of them in your room, the other next to the fireplace. Do you understand?"
"Of course, I am not daft." I said, looking at my father's expression as I said it. "But what about the chores?" I said.
"You could always do them later," My father said. "Right now, I need beds."
"I could always help, sir." The boy said, not looking up at the two of us. "I was going to ask you if you needed anything done around the house…" His voice was deep, and it sounded like it had been through a lot. I studied him a bit.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"I'm Jackson, and this is my sister, Emelia," He said simply. Emelia gave a shy wave.
"Pleasure to meet you," I said. "I am Henry. Father, could he help me? The bales of hay are up in the barn's loft."
"Alright then," He said. Jackson got up out of his seat and walked up to me.
"Well, lead the way, Henry," He said with a small smile. I smiled back and gave a nod. I lead him to the door, when he hesitated and looked back at his sister. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked, the care in his voice overwhelming.
"Yes, I am okay. Go!" She said, shooing him off. He laughed and walked outside with me.
"So, the hay is up on top. I just need you to help me get them down." I said, leading him to the barn. It was small, and only had two horses in it, but it worked. "Because, you know, I am a little bit…" I trailed off without knowing it.
"Small?" Jackson asked. I reddened.
"Yes, small." I replied.
"That's okay," Jackson said simply. He was quiet after that, but he gave me a little smile. We worked diligently, climbing up to the barn's hay loft and he threw the hay bales down the ladder. He helped me fill the mattresses with the hay, and even helped me lug them back inside the house.
"Thank you, Jackson," I said.
"Call me Jack," He said. "And I should be the one thanking you. Most people do not show the kindness that your father has shown to us."
"Do you usually ask around for work?" I asked. Jack looked down at his bare feet.
"Yes," Jack said, his voice small, but the sound cut through the silence sharper than any knife. "Emelia and I have been doing this for a long time."
"You will have to tell me about it later then," I said as we reached the back door. We shoved the mattress through the door and dragged it towards my room. I was lucky to have a room all to myself to begin with, I didn't mind sharing.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," Jack said, smiling. Then he ran out. "Emelia!" He said, a little loudly, the fear tangible in his voice.
"Jack?" She replied, from outside. He ran out there, and I followed him. Her and my father were pulling weeds from the garden.
"Father!" I said. "I was supposed to be doing that!"
"Ah, well, she insisted," My father replied, a smile on his face and the happiness radiating from his eyes. I almost stumbled back; I haven't seen my father smile like that, and actually mean it, for a really long time.
"We will help," Jack said, smiling at the two. I nodded, and we all spent the rest of the day pulling the weeds from the ground. When it was nightfall, we all went inside. I lit the fireplace quickly and warmth spread across the house. I made dinner, and we all ate in silence. My father said that Jack would be sleeping in my room, while Emelia would be sleeping near the fireplace.
"A lady needs privacy after all," He said. Emelia laughed, and Jack rolled his eyes.
We settled down for sleep not long after that. Emelia was sleeping by the fire, and my father was already snoring in his room, but Jack and I were still awake, staring at my ceiling.
"Our mother was young when she had us." Jack said quickly.
"What?" I asked.
"She was too young," He continued, as if it hurt to backtrack even a little. "She hid me, told no one about me. Our grandmother took care of me during the day. No one knew that I was alive, let alone on this earth. I was about six when she had Emelia. No one knew about her either.
"Something… something happened after that. I am not sure what, but something did. I was laying Emelia down for a nap, because our mother told me to, and then… she screamed. I ran to see what had happened, and she was on the floor. She was dead. I do not know why or how, but I grabbed everything that I could, and me and Emelia left. We've been going from house to house for a while, asking around for anything they could give, whether it be some food or water, as long as I did some work for them. It's been like this for years."
"Why haven't you gone in the marketplace?" I asked.
"Too many people go in the marketplace." Jack replied. "They would have recognized us, maybe even turned us in. And there are too many beggars there, we would have been overpassed as if we were nothing."
"I wish you had come to us sooner." I said, a little regretfully. "We've had more than enough for a while now."
"Well, we are here now, aren't we?" Jack asked. I laughed.
"I guess you are…" I said.
We fell asleep after that.