And Then They Trembled!

Chapter 2: Mass

 The barn lock rattled precisely thirty minutes after sunrise just as it did every day since I moved in. When I was younger we had a rooster that would crow at the dawn's light. I gave him a name to Daddy's annoyance. Gerald. I remember Gerald running away from me when I tried to approach. It took months of patients but eventually he would eat straight out of my hand every morning as I stroked his feathers.

 As soon as he no longer required aid in his morning routine, Daddy cooked Gerald into a stew. The beating I recieved for refusing to eat him was one that won't soon be lost to my memory.

 Daddy opened the barn door. I was already up and ready as it creaked and ached as it swung on it's rusty hinges. The sun was blinding, signifying a lovely day ahead. I stood in the center of the room so that Father could immediately see my preparedness.

 Papa was a man of simplicity and routine. He had exactly seven pairs of overalls and seven flannel shirts with undergarments and socks to match. Two pairs of shoes sat next to his bed. Work boots, torn and dirt stained, and his going-out boots, slightly less torn and dirt stained. The only exception was his Sunday suit. It wasn't expensive, far from it. But it was untorn and washed once a week.

 It was strange to me, then, that Daddy had what was left of his graying hair combed over and dressed in his Sunday suit on a Thursday of all days.

 I waited a moment in anticipation for Daddy's opinion of my readiness.

 He stood there, a frown on his wrinkled lips that held a large wad of dip. He glanced at my outfit to ensure I was wearing it correctly. Shirt not hanging too low nor my dress too high. He spat on the ground, which was the closest thing to a true acknowledgment of appreciation that I could hope for. He then reached over and rang the bell hanging from the wall.

 When I first moved into the barn, he would ring that horrid bell in order to wake me up. Even though it only took me about two weeks so develop enough of a sleeping pattern to beat him to the punch, he had already developed the habit of ringing the bell and he wasn't about to let something like me already being awake keep him from his routine. 

 "Hair." said Daddy, disapprovingly.

 "Is it not Thursday Daddy? Didn't suppose I needed the pony tail. I like your suit today Daddy. You're all dolled up aint ya?" I said.

 His lip curled. He didn't like the way I worded that. He pushed on his bottom lip with his forefingers.

 "'s Thanksgivin'." He said.

 My heart sank.

 "H- Has i- it been a year already?" I said, forcing my shaking lips to steady themselves.

 Papa starred blankly.

 I forced a smile. "I s-suppose that means you won't need me to make breakfast then?"

 He spit again. "Got mass. Hurry it." He turned and walked away.

 That was a no. 

 I hurried towards my box of belongings. There weren't many belongings I had to put in the box. Mostly pairs of gray and white outfits, a comb with a broken handle, a travelers sized soap and shampoo, and some trinkets I earned as rewards from Daddy for obeying. I pulled out a black ribbon and quickly pulled my hair up into a tight bun before running outside with a quickness.

 I hoped in Daddy's beat up old truck. I sat quietly as I always did as he struggled to get it to start. 

 "Shi'." He muttered, smacking the dashboard with a heavy palm.

 I flinched, imagining for a second that the palm was heading my direction. Funny, the tricks your mind can play on you for no reason.

 To my relief, the truck finally started.