I was in a pretty bad mood the rest of the day after Uncle Pete left. I refused to play with Guthrie that morning after we'd done our chores, opting to sit with Polly and Splotch in the barn attic for a few hours. At lunch I snapped at griped at Ford and Evan who I felt were going out their way to irritate me. Everyone was annoying me it seemed. I snapped at Adam and Brian a couple of times as well. They didn't react - I thought maybe they were giving me a free pass.
But Adam held me back in the kitchen after lunch when everyone else had scattered and the two of us had washed and dried the dishes.
"I know you're upset about Uncle Pete leavin', Heidi, but you've got to watch yourself; you're getting very close to crossin' the line," he said sternly, looking down at me.
"Sorry," I said, sullenly, and then my eyes filled with tears. I hurriedly wiped them away.
"Look," Adam said, sounding a bit softer now, "Why don't you go upstairs to your room and spend some time with your journal. Hmm?"
I didn't feel much like writing in my journal; in all honesty I felt like screaming or shouting or fighting with someone.
"I don't feel like it," I said.
"I know. You feel like pickin' a fight with someone," Adam said, in a matter of fact tone.
I looked up at him, feeling awed. Could he read my mind or something?
"How'd you know?"
"Because I know you, Heidi and you always get ornery when you're sad about something. I don't want you gettin' yourself into trouble and you're pretty close which is why I'm suggesting you go write in your journal."
I still didn't want to and just looked up at Adam, possibly a tad mutinously.
"Or you can come outside and help me and Brian on the fence if you want. I'm sure we can put you to good use."
"Okay," I said.
Despite it being perhaps counter intuitive, I wanted to be near my two oldest brothers, even though I'd need to rein myself in.
"Okay what? Which option you choosin'?" Adam asked.
"Come out with you."
"Alright," Adam said. I thought he looked a bit surprised. I had my chores which I did every day, but I wasn't particularly interested in general ranch work. And as the youngest, Guthrie and I were mostly left alone to play when we'd done our chores. "Go put a sweater on, it's cold today."
I did what I was told and then went outside with Adam. Instead of tacking up another horse for me to ride, I rode on the back of Adam's horse, holding onto his middle for balance.
Brian was already out there with the truck which was parked a little was from the fence. I could tell he was also surprised that I was out there with them.
"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Brian said mock formally.
"Heidi wants to help out this afternoon," Adam said, sharing a meaningful glance with Brian.
"Is that a fact. You ready to work hard?" Brian asked me.
"Uh huh," I said.
My brothers did indeed make me work hard- fetching things for them back and forth from the truck. Some of the things seemed unnecessary in my opinion, but working with them all afternoon was distracting and also exhausting! By the time we returned to the house, I was ready to collapse! How did my brothers do this every single day? I did feel a lot calmer though. So much so, that after supper I spent some time with my journal before bed. I didn't write much but drew some pictures and colored them in.
But then the day after I felt angry again. Frustrated, irritated at everyone. It felt like they were trying really hard to annoy me. Well not Adam and Brian, but the rest of them, even Guthrie and Daniel. But especially Evan. I think he was feeling cooped up too because the weather had turned so bad that he couldn't go out riding and for Evan, that spells trouble. The two of us were on dish duty after supper that evening- him washing and me drying. Except that he wasn't washing- not properly it seemed like. It's not like I'm a complete clean freak but it's pretty difficult to dry dishes when they still have bits of food stuck to them. After the second time I'd given a plate back to Evan to wash again, I lost my temper the next time it happened and dumped the plate forcefully back into the sink. It threw up a mound of soapy suds into Evan's face.
"Hey! Watch it!" he yelled.
"Wash the plates properly then!" I yelled back at him loudly.
"I am!"
"No, you're not- they've still got bits of food stuck to them. It's disgusting!"
"Just coz you're having a bad day, don't take it out on me!" Evan said.
The two of us were full blown yelling at each other now. It felt good to yell; I wanted to yell and yell and yell.
"Then stop being such a damn pig!"
It felt good to use the word 'damn' too.
"You're a pig yourself!"
"Ooooo, really original," I goaded.
"God, you're a real brat sometimes, you know that?" Evan said.
That enraged me further and I thumped Evan hard on the arm. I mean I'm sure it didn't bruise him, but it was with all my strength.
"Ow! God damn it, Heidi!" Evan yelled, reaching with his other hand to rub his arm.
Crane, Adam and Brian all appeared in the archway to the kitchen from the mudroom.
"What the hell is goin' on here? We can hear you two screechin' at each other from outside!" Brian said.
"Heidi just hit me, that's what's going on," Evan said, his face flushed with anger.
"That true, Heidi?" Adam said, looking at me intently.
"I've just told you it's true!" Evan said.
"Heidi?" Adam said.
"Yes, but it's because he called me a brat!" I said, angrily. I was so mad at this point I just didn't care.
"Because you are one!"
"Arrghhh!" I screamed, thumping Evan again.
"Heidi!" Adam and Brian both barked at the same time.
Adam came towards me and pulled me away from Evan by the arm.
"Did you see that? Now you can see what I'm dealing with!" Evan said, directing his words to our older brothers.
I burst into enraged tears.
"He's being so mean to me!"
"Right- enough of this," Adam said, firmly. He looked down at me. "Heidi- you're over tired- go on upstairs and get on ready for bed."
"That's it! You're just going to send her to bed! You're so soft on her- if I'd hit her, you'd give me hell!" Evan hollered.
I resisted the urge to clock Evan again, but it was hard- really hard!
Adam ignored Evan's words and gestured towards the way to the stairs through the living room with his head.
"C'mon, Heidi, march," he said.
I threw down the dish towel on the counter and ran upstairs to my room. Urgh! Evan was the most annoying person ever! I wanted to go back downstairs and launch myself at him.
I sat down on my bed, breathing heavily. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes later when there were bootsteps on the stairs; I knew they belonged to Adam and so I launched straight into my defence.
"He was being so mean to me and he called me a brat and then he-"
"Hush, Heidi. I don't want to hear it," Adam said.
He came and pulled me up from my bed, standing me in front of him.
"Look at me and listen good."
I looked up at him tremulously, meeting his gaze. You are one word away from goin' to bed with a sore backside. Is that what you want?"
I shook my head.
"No."
"Then can the attitude. I know you're upset about Uncle Pete leavin' but it doesn't give you the right to take it out on everyone else."
"But-"
"Ah," Adam said, holding up a finger to stop me talking and raising his eyebrows. "Go get in the shower."
I sighed, still hugely frustrated at the state of affairs, but I obeyed Adam. I took a shower, and started to brush my teeth. Adam and Brian were in the hallway talking but I only tuned in when I heard my name. I held my breath and paused mid brushing so I could hear more clearly what they were saying about me.
"You think I'm bein' too soft on her?" Adam said.
"Maybe… but I get it. She's takin' Uncle Pete leavin' pretty hard," Brian said.
"Yea. Doesn't mean she can act like a brat though," Adam said.
"It'll pass; 'specially when she's back at school and in a routine again," Brian said. His voice sounded further away now, and I could tell they were heading for the stairs.
"Hopefully," Adam said which is the last thing I caught before they were too far away from the bathroom door for me to be able to hear clearly.
Brat? Urgh! That was the second one of my brothers to call me that tonight although not to my face. The nerve! Although deep down, I knew fine well I had been acting badly. Nevertheless, when I went back to my room after my shower, I spent some time writing unsavoury things about Evan in my journal, and then exhausted, I feel asleep on my bed without reading or having been read to or anything. I didn't even wake up when Guthrie came to bed.
I woke up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortable. Feeling sticky and wet and generally not very well. I got up, sleepily, thinking irrationally that maybe a glass of water had spilled in my bed or something. It took me a few moments to realise I had wet the bed. It jolted me awake, as though I'd had an electric shock - my heart was racing. I felt panicky and hot. And mortified. Deeply deeply mortified. I had never wet the bed before in my life since I'd been toilet trained- well not that I could remember anyway.
My brain went into overdrive thinking about what to do. I didn't want to wake Adam or Brian because I felt so embarrassed, nor did I want to ask for help from any of my other brothers. Nor did I want to go and crawl into bed with one of them; what if I did it again in one of their beds? I'd die from the shame. The best course of action, I thought, was to wait until the morning and then I could take the sheets off the bed and stick them in the washer myself and no one would have to know.
I changed my pyjamas and underwear right there, in the room since Guthrie was asleep and then crawled miserably back into bed. I couldn't sleep properly for the rest of the night, both because I felt so uncomfortable and not very well, and also for fear that I'd wet the bed again.
I was listless at the breakfast table the next morning. And emotional. I teared up when Adam gave me scrambled eggs instead of poached which is my favorite and the way I usually had them when we didn't have school, and I cried when I knocked over a glass of orange juice and some of it spilt on Evan and he yelled at me.
"Knock it off, Ev; it was an accident," Brian said to Evan who was ranting about how he had to go upstairs and change his pants. He probably wouldn't have reacted like that if we hadn't had sparred the previous evening.
"Yea, take her side, why don't you, just like you always do; she probably did it on purpose!"
"I did not!" I cried.
"No one's takin' sides; can the gripin' and go and change," Adam said.
Evan stomped off upstairs.
"What is with him?" Crane asked in a general, roundabout way. He got up to get me a tissue and handed it to me.
"Finish your breakfast," Adam said to me, gesturing to the food on my plate which I'd hardly touched.
He sighed tiredly.
"The rain and wind's meant he's been holed up; you know what he gets like when he feels cooped up."
"He'd better watch his step," Brian said grimly.
"I can take him into Murphys with me this morning," Crane said.
"Probably a good idea," Adam said.
"What you going for?" Daniel asked, looking interested.
"Nothing special, just some feed and groceries. Want to come?"
"Might as well," Daniel said.
"I want to come too," Guthrie said.
"Me too," said Ford.
Crane shrugged. "Fine by me."
He looked at me.
"Want to come too, Heidi?"
I shook my head, moodily.
"No."
Anywhere Evan was going was not where I wanted to be. Plus, this sounded like the perfect opportunity to deal with my bedsheets. My brothers would be out either in town or else on the ranch and I could wash the sheets in peace without the fear of anyone seeing me.
Adam eyed me and then reached out to feel my forehead, but there was something about the action that irritated me, and I shirked away from him before he could feel my forehead properly.
"Heidi," he said, in a low warning tone.
I concentrated on shovelling the food on my plate into my mouth even though my stomach felt unsteady because of lack of sleep, and Adam didn't try to feel my forehead again.
Evan came back downstairs wearing a different pair of jeans and sat back down at the table. My middle brothers then started talking about taking a mall trip in the next couple of days to hit the sales before New Years because they wanted to spend the money that Uncle Pete had given them. There was a lot of talk about what they wanted to spend their money on.
"Or you could save it for a rainy day; or at least part of it," Adam said.
"That's no fun," Daniel said.
"Do we have to save it?" Guthrie asked.
"No… I guess not; I think Uncle Pete meant for you to enjoy it. But I do want you to think carefully about what you're goin' to spend it on and spend it wisely. $50 is a lot of money. You also don't need to spend it all in one go."
"How about you, Heidi; what d'you want to spend it on?" Crane asked.
I knew he was trying to bring me in on the conversation because I'd been so silent.
"I'm saving it to go the mall with Olivia and Violet," I said.
"More sparkly pens and hairclips, then, huh?" he said, playfully.
But I didn't smile. I felt too bad.
"I guess."
After breakfast and chores, Adam and Brian tried to get me to come and work outside with them like I had the previous day, but I said I'd rather stay in the house. Adam asked me if I felt unwell, but I wanted rid of them as quickly as possible so I could deal with my sheets, so I said I felt fine. They both looked like they didn't believe me.
"I don't want to leave you here on your own," Adam said, "you're not yourself."
"Please, Adam. I just want to read and color. And write in my journal," I added at the end, knowing that Adam would think me journaling was a decent use of my time because it might lead to be being in a better mood.
"What d'you think, Bri?" he asked him.
"We won't be far; she can find us easily if she needs us," Brian said, still looking at me.
They went outside and my other brothers left soon afterwards for Murphys with Crane driving the truck. I watched the truck roll down the driveway, just to make sure they were actually gone.
The moment they were out of sight, I ran up to my bedroom and hastily pulled the sheets off my bed. The bottom sheet had a light-yellow stain on it, and when I pulled it back, I was even more horrified to see that the stain had leaked through to the mattress underneath! I felt like crying again, but the need to hide all the evidence was greater and so I quickly took the sheets down to the washer and shoved them inside, slamming the door down on the incriminating evidence in haste. Then, I stopped for a second and stared at all the different icons on the dial. Which one was I supposed to use? And how much laundry detergent was I supposed to use as well? I had never done the laundry on my own before; Brian usually did most of it- or Adam or Crane sometimes, depending.
Still, I wanted the sheets to be done quickly so that I could stick them in the drier and then take them back up and put them on my bed. Brian would surely notice if I had different sheets on my bed since he was the one who changed them.
I decided that half to three quarters of the bottle of laundry detergent would surely do the job and so poured it into the washer. Then I randomly picked a setting on the dial – I mean they all washed, right?- and pressed the start button.
While I waited for the sheets to wash, I took a cloth from the cupboard in the mudroom where we keep cleaning supplies, along with a bar of soap and went to try to deal with the stain on my mattress. I wet the soap in the bathroom and then took it to my room and scrubbed the soap against the stain and used the cloth to rub it some more. It lathered up, and I scrubbed and scrubbed, feverishly, keeping my ears open for the sounds of anyone coming in downstairs. The scrubbing helped, but it didn't get rid of the stain completely. I wished there was a manual or handbook or something that I could look in to find out this kind of thing. Still, it was better than when I'd started, so I hoped when it dried out, it would be unnoticeable.
I wrung the cloth out in the bathroom when I was done and then lay down on Guthrie's bed with my book to pass the time. I was so tired, and I wanted to sleep, but fear at wetting the bed again or sleeping too long and missing the opportunity to dry the sheets kept me awake. After about 30 minutes, I went downstairs to check if the cycle was finished- how long could it actually take?
But as I passed into the mudroom from the back of the living room, the sight that met me was mountains of foam spilling out of the top of the washer at an alarming rate and blobbing at the bottom, burying the front of the machine in the form of a misshapen snowman.