Just childhood fluff, they're far too young to do anything else …

4. Sick

"Jake!" Wilhelm Grimm turned to his younger brother who was falling behind more than usually, eyes blazing with annoyance. "Stop counting the fairies in the trees and get a move on!"

Tapping his foot impatiently he wondered if he should wait for Jacob to catch up or just leave him to be late on his own.

Their school wasn't much (though mother had to scratch the fees from any odd corners since her husband's death), but the teachers were strict and harsh and Wilhelm wasn't keen on getting a beating for not being on time just because his hopeless daydreaming ragball of a brother was too far gone from reality again to remember that the trick was to put one foot in front of the other.

On the other hand mother would be so disappointed if she learnt that he'd abandoned him.
Although she never said it in so many words Wilhelm knew she trusted him to keep an eye on the younger one.

And if he didn't push Jake on, then his brother would certainly be in for the birch and Will resented the idea of Jake being hurt.

'Then again it might just teach him a lesson.' Wilhelm thought grimly as he perceived his brother still slinking on, barely lifting his feet, as if walking in a swamp and unable to tear his shoes free.

The very sight made Will's eyes go narrow with irritation as if to keep the image out. "Jake! If you're not hurrying up and get your tiny lazy ass over here this minute I'm off without you. I'm not going to be late!" Not waiting for a reaction, the older Grimm turned and walked on in wide and fast strides.

Back in the road Jacob lifted his head and seeing his brother's back growing smaller in the distance, he broke into an awkward and panicky run.

When he heard the running footsteps behind him, Will slowed down a little, and walked on in more casual pace without turning round.
But when only little later the sound scheme was enriched by a very definite "thump" and if you listened really carefully the hiss of someone biting back a cry of pain, he stopped dead and angrily put a hand on his eyes, dreading the sight that would present itself behind his back.

As he turned he saw Jake sitting on the ground and nursing his knee, which displayed an unpleasant mixture of blood, dirt and pink skin.
A lot of skin actually, which meant …
"You've torn the trousers!" Wilhelm hissed accusingly. "Damn it, those were new!" (well, second hand, but newly bought) He dealt the smaller boy a blow around the ear.
"Why do you always have to be so clumsy? You do know how hard mother's been working to buy these trousers, no?"

While Wilhelm went on, Jake kept quite and eventually looked up guiltily. "Sorry." he whispered in a small voice.

"Oh, you're hopeless." Will scoffed and then marvelled at the amount of sweat on his brother's face. He hadn't been running that far, still a fine film covered the whole skin and the dust that had been unsettled gathered on that, sticking immediately.
Wilhelm shook his head and gruffly proffered a handkerchief at his still cowering sibling. "And clean your face."

Hurrying to keep up with his brother again Jake wiped his face with the square of cloth and tried to ignore the pounding in his leg.
It wasn't too bad, he'd had far worse wounds due to his cursed talent of stumbling over every obstacle that presented itself and preferably over his own legs.
No wonder Will considered him a nuisance most of the time.

And now he'd torn the new trousers, mother would be so disappointed.
It was unfair, why couldn't he be more like his brother?
Will never did anything wrong. Really, he knew everything and Jake had not seen him stumble over anything, like ever.

And he was the best brother in the world, not Will's fault that Jake was failing him most of the time and he had to scold him so much.
Jake hated that contemptuous look that he so often received from his brother when he had done something stupid again.
Especially that nearly accepting weary undertone that said: 'But who'd expect anything better of you?'

And that was why he wasn't going to tell Will that he felt so weak and dizzy today.
He'd think him a cissy and Jake felt he couldn't use another degrading in his brother's esteem today.


When Will was called to the schoolmaster two hours later he immediately made out his little brother, looking very small and lost, sunken together on the big massive wooden bench.

"Wilhelm." The blond boy turned, slightly chiding himself for not having greeted the schoolmaster first and gave a little bow. "Jacob is sick. You should take him home. And keep him there until he's healthy. I don't want a school full of coughing students." the bearded man declared. "Right sir." Will answered, turning back to his brother again with a worried expression and a little pang of guilt.


Jacob didn't talk on the way home, although they walked very slowly, but by the time they reached the door he was covered in sweat again.

Wilhelm treated his little brother to a concerned look. "Ok, Jake, you're off to bed." he ordered and vaguely remembering what you're supposed to do with sick people he added: "I'll get you a tea."

Carefully balancing the cup so as not to spill the steaming liquid Will entered the bedroom he shared with his brother.
"Here's your tea." he announced, placing it on the bedside table and finally making out Jake's small and pale face among the blankets.

The younger one gazed up at him meekly, with the typical look he reserved for the moments when Will found him with the remaining shards of a broken jug, plate or toy, empty-handed when he'd lost another scarf or hat or pair of gloves or wounded when he'd stumbled over furniture, animals, stones or preferably, his own legs.

'What is he going to say?' Will pondered, a little puzzled by this. 'I sat down carelessly and somehow managed to crush my health?'

Before he even finished that thought, Jake's mumbled words proved him right "I'm sorry I'm sick."

"Well that's not your fault." Will returned and judging that the younger one seemed fairly miserable he added: "Want me to tell you a story?"

"Yes!" The speed and eager tone of the answer made Wilhelm smile and he enjoyed the sudden sparkling that flashed up in the grey eyes behind the glasses.

"Ok, so let's see …" screwing up his face in thought Will stood silent for a moment.

It was a rare occurrence for Jacob to get treated to a story by his older brother and so he kept quiet and waited patiently.

Will wasn't much of a storyteller and couldn't remember many tales, but there was one he'd always liked, what was it again, ah yes …
"The one with the donkey and the dog and the cat and the cockerel." he announced a little unsure, but Jake nodded enthusiastically and clarified. "The Bremen Town Musicians" (1)

"Yes, that one." his brother accepted and drummed his lips with his two fingers trying to recall the beginning. "Now, how does it start? There is this donkey and he gets mistreated by his owner. Has a pretty shitty life, all miserable, always hard working and always beaten. But then he thinks, no, this is all shit, I'm not going to spend my life like this, I'll hit the road and become a famous musician." Will stopped and turned a questioning gaze on his brother: "Doesn't it bother you that a donkey is talking?" (2)

Snuggling back in the pillow Jake shook his head: "Uh uh. Go on."

Stammering, hesitating and now and again inventing madly Wilhelm recited his way through the story.
He was sure that Jake could have told it himself a hundred times more accurate and gripping, but whenever he checked to see if his patient was still with him, the smaller boy was smiling and listening intently.

"So, the robbers just felt something hitting them and thought it was a man with a big club and they heard something screech and thought it was a horrible monster and when the cat scratched them, they thought it was a witch with long fingernails and so they fled in fear. And so the animals had tricked the stupid people with simple means and got a house out of it and food and money I guess, and, and, well, they'll probably run out some day, but then they can just pull that number again and scare some other people out of their houses … um, and ... and then they'll live happily ever after. End of story." With these last lines Wilhelm wiped his forehand in relief and turned to Jake to see if the tale had met his approval.

But the smaller boy was fast asleep, still smiling, lips slightly parted and glasses sliding down his nose.
Will smiled and carefully pulled the glasses off, putting them on the bedside table next to the cold and untouched cup of tea.
Then he placed a hand on his brother's forehead. It was warm, but not worryingly so.

Observing the sleeping figure for a while he sighed.
He loved his brother's enthusiastic and affectionate personality and admired his seemingly boundless imagination that so easily took wings, but still he wished Jake was a little more like him.
Well, a lot more actually.
More fit for the demands of everyday life.

So he wouldn't have to worry about him as much …

(1) I found the translation of the fairy tale title online "The Bremen Town Musicians".

Sounds like a word-by-word translation to me. Is it the right one?

(2) I kind of stole that line from LeftOfWest's story "Northfarthing Rain". Hope thats all right. It just stuck to my memory. If you're curious now, go have a look at the story, read and remember to review. ;-)