1826
The sun hung high in the sky, which meant that the day was still long. Daniel did his best to distract himself, but unfortunately it was hard to follow along the lesson like that.
The boy gathered himself and moved his gaze to the blackboard. Mr. Harrison noted various facts beside the messy sketch of what was supposed to be a systematic model of the catholic church. The class did not utter one word, for no one wanted a stroke with the cane.
"The protestants did not want the people to only have access to God through the church. Why did the church disagree? Come on, lads, we've been through this three times just this week!" Mr. Harrison let out an exhausted sigh, placing his hands on his hips.
Daniel knew the answer. He read about the reformation and Luther's revolution a long time ago out of own interest. For an eight year old, the boy definitely had some brains, and his own enthusiasm concerning history did help quite a lot.
But he didn't raise his hand. Instead, he slowly sank down in his seat, praying not to be noticed. Unfortunately, the lecturer also knew well about Daniel's skills. "Mr. Wilkinson, surely you know the answer? Speak up, son."
Daniel felt everyone's eyes on him. He was always the unlucky one. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he managed to stutter, "Oh… Eh, I-I actually don't know, Mr. Harrison…"
"Nonsense! Don't be shy!" Mr. Harrison urged on. There was no escape.
Daniel mentally prepared himself for the day's carnage and cleared his throat, "Um… Because they wanted people to communicate with God through the church."
"And why exactly did they want that?"
"… Because that way they could keep making money off their faith, sir."
"Correct! Good job, Daniel."
A soft cough made Daniel turn to the seat a few rows behind him. Henry Bedloe sent the boy a glare that could make even the most vicious dog retreat with its tail far low between its legs.
Daniel turned around again. His hands were shaking.
Daniel dragged himself home, his legs barely even able to carry him. It had been a rough day at school and work, and he had not eaten since breakfast, so all the boy wanted was to sit down at home and devour a good evening's meal.
He fumbled with the key, pushed the door open and trudged in. John immediately came running down the stairs with the toolbox in hand. "Don't take off your shoes, Daniel, we're going to the studio" he said as he put on his coat.
Daniel hesitated for a moment, but his growling stomach made him ask, "… What about dinner?"
"No dinner today."
John snatched a beer from his personal stock in the cupboard and went past his son out the door. Daniel shot the kitchen a last longing glance before following his father.
"Has Hazel been fed?"
"Yes, I told you, now shut your mouth and get to work."
Father was moody again, and Daniel knew it would serve him best to just avoid making him angry. It certainly did not help the case that the man had emptied seven whole bottles in less than three hours.
John only faltered slightly from the alcohol, still able to make those incredibly straight strokes on the vase. Daniel was always captivated, absolutely fascinated by any of his father's masterpieces. The man took such pride in them, performing every bit of work with delicacy.
Daniel tried to concentrate on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting to his darling baby sister. He had not seen her all day and he was worried that she might have been neglected, knowing that his father did not care much for her.
"Daniel, go grab the red tint in the basement."
The boy looked up from the chair leg, he was grinding. An alarm was wailing in the back of his mind. "D-do I really have to?"
John's drunken glare was answer enough.
Working with his dad in the studio was not exactly Daniel's favourite pastime, but if anything, he especially did not appreciate the cellar. He wasn't particularly afraid of the dark, but he had always disliked going into the basement.
Daniel put his work aside and moved towards the door. He paused, staring into the void. Shadows crept along the corners, waiting for him.
"Get going, boy!"
He jumped at the shout. His father urged him on to fetch the red dye. He turned his gaze to the stairs again, swallowing hard. As he stepped into the dark, he thought, I will never escape this.
The basement had always been unusually dark. Even if Daniel brought a lantern, the light would not be enough to illuminate the twilight. It would just lurk around the light source, exactly as it did the star in the story about Hazel. But that did not matter anyway, as it would be impractical to carry the tools needed from the basement with one hand restricted to the oil lamp.
He could just about reach the paint, but as he tried to slide it off the shelf, he unfortunately pushed one of the others. The blue coloured tint came crashing down. His father heard the jar break and yelled from upstairs.
One simple mistake could be fatal. It seemed like the dark was laughing at him.
He cried like the little boy he was. All alone in the dark basement, broken glass tearing at the flesh of his naked feet, and blood mixed with blue tint. There was no need for punishment. He could already feel the sting of his father's belt.
Mum, Daniel thought as the tears blurred his vision, I miss you.
The days became longer as summer neared, and almost six months had passed since Hazel turned two years old – still she hadn't been baptised. It really bothered Daniel, but how should he tell his dad?
John was a fluid man; some days he just locked himself up in his room all day. Others, he could not think about anything but work, and Daniel was to follow along. The boy did not dare protest.
Then there were days, he just wanted to work away all on his own. This was one of those days, and Daniel utilised it to spend time with his sister.
Hazel squeezed the plush bunny Daniel had given her on her first birthday, which she suitably had named Mr. James. "Danny!"
"Come on, Hazel, stand up!" Daniel reached encouragingly out for her, kneeling down to be at eye level with his sister.
Hazel sat on the floor with Mr. James, her eyes squinted in concentration. Her eyes had become green like Daniel and Evelyn's – only John had grey eyes – and she had acquired the same rich, sandy blonde hair her mother used to have. She placed her hands on the ground for support and got up on her feet – then fell right back on her bum again.
Daniel tried his best to hold back his laughter. The toddler pouted, "I can't, Danny!"
"Of course you can," her older brother said, "You've done it before! Now try again!"
Hazel got a determined look on her face, "You will tell fairytale?"
Daniel nodded with a small grin. Hazel had already grasped the concept of negotiations at the age of two; if big brother wanted something from her, he would have to offer something in return.
A bright smile appeared on her face. She elevated herself from the floor so eagerly that she almost got overbalance, but she managed to stay upright. Carefully, she took a tentative step.
Daniel bit his bottom lip and cheered her on, "Good, Hazel! Keep going!"
Though wavering a bit, she was moving. She staggered on her short legs, closing the distance between her and Daniel till she was midway, then came to a halt. He tilted his head in confusion, motioning for her to continue. "Come on, sis, you're almost there!"
Hazel still hesitated, so Daniel strategically made his next move, "You want to hear the story about the morning star, right?"
That did it. The little girl gleamed with excitement and ran the last few steps right into her brother's arms. Daniel embraced her and lifted her up, "Good girl, Hazel!"
"Wee!" Hazel cheered, "Fairytale now!"
"All right, all right!" Daniel chuckled and put her down, "But I need to make dinner for Father, so you will have to accompany me in the kitchen to hear it."
Hazel did not seem to mind, as she freed herself from Daniel's arms and employed her newly found skills to rush out to the kitchen on her small feet.
Daniel gaped at her, but quickly recovered from the shock and hurried after her, "Hazel!"
Daniel finished the fairytale by the time the dinner was ready. "And that was how the morning star came to be!"
"The sun!" Hazel giggled, giving Mr. James a squeeze.
Right then the front door opened, letting in a stench of liquor that continued to permeate throughout the rest of the small house. Hazel didn't light up the way she did when Daniel returned home. Instead her smile vanished and she recoiled.
John entered with heavy steps, slamming the door behind him. He didn't seem to be in a very good mood – but then again, he usually wasn't. He kicked off his boots and threw the jacket on the floor, not bothering to hang it on the coat stand.
Daniel hurried to prepare the dinner on a plate and put it on the table. John didn't even glance at the food. He merely walked past the table to the cupboard, grabbed a bottle, and then turned to leave the kitchen again.
The sturdy man's son stared for a moment in shock, then blinked vigorously and blurted, "Father! Aren't you going to eat?"
John halted and finally spared the plate on the table a look. He picked it up and studied the food, then threw it in the dustbin. "I am not hungry."
Daniel looked down into the dustbin on the wasted food he had spent almost an hour preparing. "Um… What about the baptising?"
"What?" John stalled again, but did not turn around to look at his son.
"You said that we could baptise Hazel when she turned two… A-and that you would cancel her membership in the funeral club" Daniel continued while fidgeting with the sleeves of his old, baggy shirt.
His father stood for a while, not moving an inch. It made Daniel wonder if he actually considered his words. But in the end John only gave a grunt as response, then went to his room. Daniel's shoulders slouched in exhausted disappointment.
Almost as if on cue, Hazel suddenly began coughing.
Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked at her. The small coughs turned into a minor seizure. He felt the panic spread throughout his body, as he hurriedly sat down beside her and rubbed her back, "Hazel, what's wrong?"
Hazel was unable to tell him. As the coughs became more violent, she squeezed Mr. James tighter and clutched her small chest. Daniel's anxiety grew and he didn't know what to do.
But then, just as abruptly as it had started, the coughing ceased. Hazel seemed a bit shocked as she tried to regain her breath. Daniel coached her, "Slowly, Hazel. Take it slow!"
She took a couple of deep breaths along with Daniel, and then it was all over. She stood frozen in her place for a short moment, then suddenly returned to her normal self again, as if nothing had happened. She looked at Daniel with a big smile, "Tell me one more!"
Daniel was a bit taken aback by the whole episode, as sudden as it had been. He managed to give his sister a small laugh, the hesitant smile reflecting his uncertainty. Hazel rushed out to the living room and sat down to play with the toys Daniel had made for her in Father's studio.
In all honesty, Daniel had become really worried. This was not the first time Hazel had had a seizure like that. He did not dare admit it to himself earlier, but something was very wrong with his sister. She had to see a physician.