There was a wind, where there shouldn't have been one. On a street in a small village in france, there was a wind. That wind took a mote of pollen from a flower in the field beside the village. In that village a battle was fought, and that mote of pollen carried by a wind that should not have been nestled itself in the nose of a soldier aiming a rifle. As he pulled the trigger the pollen drew a sneeze from him, and a bullet that should have struck his target in the head missed, and instead planted itself firmly in his shoulder.
The young Stallion fell to the ground as his attacker was dispatched, and a medic was called. To shorten a long and bloody story, that stallion, one Crackerjack Sugarman succumbed to an infection and as a result, lost his right arm. He was awarded the purple heart, and returned to the loving embrace of his family.
For the first few days, things seemed to go well for the reunited Sugarman family, but it didn't last. The war had changed Crackerjack more than the loss of an arm, and the more his parents tried to comfort him the more he lashed out, only his younger sister Beatrice was spared his acrimony. Eventually it's decided that he will take up residence in the family summer home. This is where we join the story.
The sun had almost fully set when the Sugarmans arrived at the summer home, of course it was the dead of winter, and that gave the whole place a foreboding sense of wrongness. Joseph and Honey hurried themselves inside to get the fire lit and the boiler going. Crackerjack lingered in the backseat of the car as the heat slowly seeped out, drawing long slow drags from a hand rolled cigarette. Beatrice had become distracted by the snow and was laughing as she tossed handfuls of the white powder into the air. Despite himself he smiled as he exhaled, filling the car with a haze of smoke. Honey appeared in the doorway, and laughing a little beckoned her daughter inside. Beatrice obeyed and Honey's eyes turned to him, her smile faltering, but she made a good show of holding it in place as she gently motioned for him to come in as well.
He sighed but obliged her, stepping from the car and making his way to the porch where she stood, rubbing at her shoulders shivering, though said nothing as he passed her on the way in. Once inside, despite himself he started right for the old piano, as he had every time he passed that threshold but as he reached to strike the keys with fingers that weren't there he grit his teeth and pulled himself back. Honey to her credit averted her eyes from the instrument as she closed the door behind them. Beatrice came hurrying over from down the hall, his blanket, Blinky clutched in her hands.
"I put it away for safe keeping." Grit teeth somehow turned into a smile once again and he snuffed his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.
"Thank you Bea, I knew I was right to trust you." He knelt and took it from her, watching her eyes begin to turn towards his missing limb. "Where's father?" He asked trying to distract her, not wanting to see the mixture of curiosity and pity he'd seen her so obviously wear so many times since he'd come home.
"Father went to get the boiler started." At that moment Joseph emerged from around the corner, clapping his hands together in triumph.
"That should do for the time being. I'll have the handyman come by in the morning to make sure I turned all the right knobs. Well I think it was time we were off." Honey appeared startled at that and moved to rest hand on her husband's shoulder.
"But I thought we might spend the night, you know help Crackerjack get used to being here." Her tone a pitious mix of pleading and hopefulness but Joseph simply laughed.
"Oh no dear that won't work at all, the whole point of separating ourselves is to not be together. Just think of it as segregating our happy emotions from Crackerjack's negative ones. It's really the best solution, two separate but equal homes for our one family." Honey lowered her eyes nodding in reluctant agreement.
"Can't I stay tonight?" Beatrice chimed in tugging on her father's pant leg. Honey brightened at that and before Joseph could reject the idea she added.
"Oh that would be lovely don't you agree dear? Beatrice has been so busy with her lessons that the two of them have had such little time together. Her school is closed tomorrow tomorrow for that asbestos installiation, Plus it would be nice to have the house to ourselves." She leaned in closer, twining her fingers with his,
"Honey, so scandalous in front of the children. I suppose I could reschedule with my secretary tonight, and work extra hard to boost her morale next time. Very well my dear." Joseph relented and smiled down kindly on his daughter. "You be good for your big brother." Beatrice was practically buzzing in place but gave a happy nod. Then turning to Crackerjack Joseph removed a small wad of bills from his pocket and handed them over. "For groceries and what not tomorrow, I'll send your mother to collect Beatrice in the evening. I'd shake your hand son, but left hands are unclean and intimacy makes me uncomfortable." Honey kissed each of her children on the cheek and the two older horses were out the door.
"You know how to run yourself a bath don'tchya Bea?" Crackerjack asked, squatting down doing his best to affect the cheerful tone with which he used to speak. When she nodded he patted her head. "You go and have yourself a bath then, I'll heat you up some milk before bed." Beatrice laughed and skipped up the stairs to the bathroom. Finally, alone Crackerjack slipped his hand into his breast pocket to produce the flask he'd hidden away before they left, setting blinky aside for now he stared down into the distorted reflection of himself on the smooth curved metal. He'd gotten very good at unscrewing the top one handed and downed half it's contents in one long pull. Setting it aside he removed the package of creamerman powdered milk from the cabinet, re-hydrated the milk and set it on the stove over a low flame.
He made his way upstairs to check on Beatrice who was happily splashing in a slightly sudsy bathtub. He smiled again, feeling his shoulders relax just a little. Then back down the stairs just as the milk was beginning to simmer. He poured it into a mug, and the tiniest splash from his own flask to really help her sleep before downing the rest himself. "Beatrice time for bed, brush your teeth," He called as he passed the bathroom. Setting the mug by her bedside he took one of her night dresses from the dresser and laid it out on the bed. She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel shivering. "Go get dressed for bed and drink your milk it'll warm you right up." She nodded, but peered up at him still shivering.
"Will you tell me a story?" He was going to tell her no, that he was too tired, but she clung to his leg eyes wide as saucers. "PLEASE!" He relented and nodded, which saw her scurrying into the room hurriedly. Reaching for the flask again he remembered it sat empty on the counter downstairs. He clenched the fingers of his remaining hand tightly, and felt the non-existent other hand do the same. Leaning his head against the wall he squeezed his eyes shut, willing tears not to form in their corners.
"I'm ready!" His sister's voice pulled him back to reality and he scrubbed his face into his sleeve before entering her room. Beatrice had tucked herself in, mug half drunk in her hands, eyes on him eagerly. "Make it a good one." Crackerjack couldn't help but laugh and seat himself at the foot of her bed.
"Alright, this is the story of the Knight and the Princess." Beatrice squirmed deeper under the covers, sipping at the still steaming milk. "Once upon a time there was a young knight, and a young princess, but she was not like other princesses. She was strong, with fire red hair and freckle dappled cheeks. She was content to just sit in some tower while the knight went out to fight, so she joined him on the battlefield. One day a terrible war broke out, and both the knight and the princess joined to fight the forces of the king in brown. Before they left though they promised each other they would be married upon their return and leave fighting behind them forever. They kissed, and rode off. The knight took a heavy wound and had to leave the fighting behind, while the princess went one. Well soon the war was over. . .and when the princess finally returned the knight asked her to keep her promise to wed but she said no. You see the princess had been sure one of them would have fallen in the battle, and had only spoken the promise to comfort the knight, thinking she would never be called to keep it. "It's impossible" she told him "You and I together? What would people think, what would people say?" So the night, crippled and defeated twice over retreated back to his family's lands, broken hearted." He looked up, expecting Bea to complain about the sadness of the ending, but the milk and brandy had done their work and she was fast asleep. Taking hold of the mug he kissed her on the forehead and made his way back down the stairs, turning off the lights as he went. Finally he settled on the chair in the living room, watching the still burning fire smolder to embers, eventually passing into a fitful sleep.