| Time for a Story |
This story first appeared in our writing group’s third anthology, A Little Off the Page
Bennett and Kingsleigh
..sometimes the younger you are, the more you know about love.
Installment 1
Bennett was, today, exactly eight years, one week, and four days old.
Kingsleigh was only seven.
Well, seven years, eleven months, three weeks, and one day. Bennett was really only older by two weeks and five days, but he was the only one counting.
“Not even three weeks!” Kingsleigh muttered every time Bennett lorded it over her. “Three weeks!”
“Look,” he’d say. “Let me go first; I’m older than you.” As if somehow that made a difference, like he was going to die soon or something.
Kingsleigh would roll her eyes, then she’d cuff Bennett on his shoulder the way her mother cuffed her older brother Kevin when he said something dumber than he was supposed to. And Bennett would grin at her over that shoulder, his green eyes sending out sparks, and her world would be right side up again.
Because it didn’t matter if Bennett teased her. It didn’t matter if he got them into trouble. And it didn’t even matter that they were just two kids in second grade who lived next door to each other, whose moms made them walk each other home and talked about them like they weren’t even in the room: Bennett was her world.
When he’d gotten sick with COVID-19, she’d prayed every morning, afternoon, and night for him to get better. Her mother had to remind her to get up off her knees and get into bed. She talked of taking Kingsleigh for counseling. But before that could happen, Bennett cleared the virus, hopping out of bed for their daily video call and doing jumping jacks to show how much better he was.
Michelle smiled at his antics and told Kingsleigh how pleased she was that Kingsleigh had prayed for the boy next door. “You never gave up,” she told her daughter. “That shows real dedication.”
Kingsleigh shrugged. “He’s my family. You know that.” She gave her mom a quick hug then whirled away. “I’m going to go draw him a picture.”
Her room was next to her brother’s. Kevin wasn’t home right now, so she didn’t go in. She respected his privacy and expected him to respect hers. They were like their mother in that. Daddy had been different. He always wanted to know everything going on in their lives.
She made a face to herself as she pulled her colored pencils out and grabbed some paper from the stack in the basket on her desk. She didn’t want to think about Daddy right now. Except, Daddy had understood about Bennett. The day she met him in kindergarten, she’d come home and told her parents all about the boy who could already write his name and address without any help and who knew what ‘math’ was.
“I guess I’ll need to get to know this young man someday,” her father had said with a wink.
Kingsleigh struggled to wink back, and both of them laughed. Daddy understood even then.
She stared at the paper. What would a boy just getting over COVID-19 want to hang on his wall? What could she draw that he’d really, really like and keep on his wall for a long time? Something with monsters? Spaceships? No . . .
Kingsleigh grabbed a dark green pencil and started drawing. This was something she’d never tried before, but the idea was so strong, she kept at it. Green lines and scribbles became a wiggly scaly dragon with wings outstretched in mid-air. Blue-clad figures resolved into a boy and girl sitting on the dragon, holding onto long reins from a bridle around its snout where bright orange and yellow fire spewed from its mouth. A purple sky surrounded the dragon and its hapless target: a round red ball with nasty bumps and spikes protruding from its surface, the best rendering Kingsleigh could give of a COVID-19 virus.
The picture was still hanging on his wall now, six months later.
Funny how Bennett hadn’t said a word about being older when she made the drawing for him. She smiled to herself. Next week I turn eight. I’ll be caught up to him again. This year I’ll show him. I’m a lot closer than he thinks! Hmph!
She skipped down the stairs to find her mother.
“Mom, do you think Bennett can come over Thursday?”
“What’s Thursday?”
“It’s another After-School Movie. Bennett and I want to watch it together.”
“We’ll have to see what DeeDee says.”
DeeDee was Bennett’s mother. She was younger than Kingsleigh’s mom, and sillier too. Kingsleigh suspected that DeeDee’s silliness meant she wasn’t as smart as her own mom. That was all right, though. She was Bennett’s mom, and Bennett was, well, Bennett.
Her mother frowned, her brown curls bobbing as she shook her head to remember. “What’s this one about?”
Kingsleigh sighed. Moms never remembered the really important stuff. “I told you. This is the one about the boy who wants to be an elf so he gets his dad to teach him how to make stuff out of wood. You know, like Grampa Joe does.”
Her mother smiled. Kingsleigh’s Grampa Joe was her father, and he was an exceptional woodworker. She knew that Kingsleigh loved to follow him around and watch him work. Last Christmas, Grampa Joe had given her a small toolbox, complete with an appropriately sized hand drill she could use.
“What does Bennett think of this story?” she asked.
Kingsleigh shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re trying to watch as many as we can. He really loves the box I gave him that Grampa Joe made. He asked lots of questions about it. I think he’d like to be a woodworker someday.”
“You think so? Maybe Grampa Joe can teach both of you.”
Kingsleigh was nodding before her mother even finished speaking. “I know,” she said, looking up and smiling. “I can’t wait.” Then she skipped out of the room.
Bennett came over with his mother the next day after school. The kids loaded up plates with carrots, raisins, and popcorn. Kingsleigh’s mother set them up with a small table in the family room and left them with glasses of milk (Bennett) and lemonade (Kingsleigh). Then she joined Bennett’s mom in the kitchen.
“Thanks, Michelle,” DeeDee said as her neighbor set cups of herbal tea before them, handing DeeDee a spoon after.
“I think the kids’ll be okay for a while. Is Bennett as excited about this movie as Kingsleigh is? Cookie?” Michelle reached over to the counter and grabbed a platter filled with spicy sweet rounds.
“Mmm. Snickerdoodles. Thanks.” DeeDee lifted a couple and dunked one in her tea, studying it as she replied. “I think so. His dad thought it was a good idea. Not that Doug is crazy about elves, but he always likes Bennett learning how to do stuff. He wants him to be self-sufficient. He takes us all camping and we use a lot of what he calls, ‘the old trades.’ I never knew I was marrying such a history buff. He’s even tried reenacting.”
“Really? Are you interested in that sort of thing?”
“I don’t know.” DeeDee giggled. “I mean, I cook a lot from scratch. But I like my comfort. Camping and cooking out under the stars isn’t exactly my thing. Can you see me gutting fish and cooking over an open fire? Or making lean-tos and throwing hatchets? But Doug is into all that, and he’s gotten Bennett involved. I think he thinks it will help him grow to be strong and manly.”
Michelle laughed. “I know what you mean. How’s the hardware store? Doug enjoying work these days?”
DeeDee ran her finger along the rim of her cup.
“I think so. I can’t always tell. But he’s in a better mood when he comes home nights, if that’s any sign. He’s spending more time with Bennett. That’s good, for both of them. It makes my life easier.
“He’s been talking about signing Bennett up for football. He’s even offering to coach. I guess he wants to toughen Bennett up. I don’t see that he needs it, but Doug keeps saying Bennett is on the small side.” DeeDee straightened up. “He said I should warn you that it would mean Bennett won’t spend as much time with Kingsleigh. Doug didn’t want her to feel hurt. Or for you to feel he’d done it on purpose.”
“Bennett is slightly built, but that will change.” Michelle sipped her tea. “Why would Doug think I’d feel he’d do that on purpose?”
“He’s got it into his head that sometimes you don’t approve of him–his parenting.”
It was a moment before Michelle spoke. She focused instead on rearranging the cookies on the plate she set aside for when the kids finished their healthy snacks. DeeDee shifted around in her chair, glancing nervously at her neighbor. Michelle’s opinion meant a lot to her.
“I wouldn’t say I don’t approve of him exactly—” she began, but sudden shouting cut her off.
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did! I did make it!”
“Bet you didn’t. I bet Grampa Joe just let you pick out the colors.”
“Mom!”
Kingsleigh veered into the room, cutting the corner of the doorway close as she raced up to Michelle.
“He won’t believe me!” Her voice caught as she shot out the words and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
Bennett sauntered around the corner, gnashing a carrot whose remains he held in one hand. “She’s exaggerating,” he garbled through the chewed-up vegetable. “Again.”
Michelle tilted Kingsleigh’s chin, tears catching light in her daughter’s brown eyes. “What were you saying?”
Kingsleigh swallowed. Bennett had never treated her this way before. “He thinks I didn’t make the keyholder with Grampa Joe,” she told her mother. “He doesn’t believe me!”
Michelle ran her hand over the top and back of Kingsleigh’s brown hair and regarded Bennett carefully. “She did. Her grandfather taught her to use the tools working on scraps, but the key holder was all hers.”
Bennett dropped his carrot. “But the TV said that only advan— advanced woodworkers can turn wood and use chisels and stuff!”
Kingsleigh faced him with a sigh. “I told you! Grampa Joe did run the lathe, but he showed me how to hold the chisel and then he told me when to stop— the first couple passes. He was right there, but he let me do it! Same with the scroll saw! And I’ve been using chisels for a whole year!” She whirled back to face Michelle. “Only with Grampa Joe, Mom. Like I promised.” She turned to look back at Bennett. “See?”
Bennett stared back hard. “You mean it?”
Kingsleigh nodded a single time, her few curls jouncing.
“Mom?” Bennett implored.
DeeDee waved her hand. “Her mother says she did it. And has Kingsleigh ever told you anything that wasn’t true?” She smiled at him. “You once told me you didn’t think she could even fib.”
Bennett grimaced. “Well, yeah. Okay. Come on, let’s watch the rest of the show.”
“Kingsleigh, bring me the key holder first. I want to show DeeDee your work.”
“Sure!”
The two returned to the other room.
Kingsleigh came back to the kitchen a minute later, holding a dish-like object in her hands. “Here.” She set it on the table without ceremony and skipped back to the TV show, not even waiting to hear what Bennett’s mom had to say. After all, it was Bennett’s opinion that mattered.
DeeDee admired the dish. It was composed of strips of different wood glued together then shaped and carved into a smooth, eight-inch oblong with a geometric shape sticking up out of the basin, looking a little like a key lying flat. There was room enough for three key rings holding several keys apiece in the dish. Its natural wood colors were light and dark with tones of brown and gray, and there was a dark reddish one in the center. Everything was sanded smooth and varnished until it shone.
“She does such beautiful work,” said DeeDee. “Even I’d doubt she made it if I hadn’t watched Joe work with her.”
“Hey, ladies.” The words were accompanied by a rap on the door and a figure walking in. Dark-haired, stocky and fit, Doug Kussler walked into the kitchen with a welcoming grin on his face.
“Hello, Doug. Would you like something to drink? I’m guessing you’re here for your family.”
“Yeah, sure. Got some coffee? Hi, hon.” He held out his arms to his wife.
DeeDee rose into his arms for a quick hug and a kiss on her forehead.
“Hey, what’s this?” Doug leaned past DeeDee to reach for the keyholder. “Pretty nice.” He turned it over in his hands once or twice. “Your dad make this?” he asked Michelle.
Her lips curved, “No. Actually—”
“Actually, he and Kingsleigh made it together. He’s teaching her woodworking,” DeeDee gushed. “Sorry, Michelle. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Isn’t that just like old Joe.” Doug chuckled. “Hey, how about that coffee?”
“Sure.” Michelle rose and fetched him a cup. “Here.” She sat down again.
Doug gulped his coffee down. “Hey, is Kevin going out for Pop Warner football this year? I’m putting Bennett in for Junior Pee Wee, and Junior Bantam division meets some of the same nights. I could give him a lift to practice.”
“We haven’t talked about football yet,” Michelle said. Sometimes ambiguity was necessary.
But Doug was already nodding. “Sure, sure. Let me know, okay? Might be good for him, what with Cameron gone and all. Bennett?” His son trotted in; Kingsleigh close behind. “Hey, Bennett. Time to go, son.” He set down his cup.
“Hey Dad, did you see what Kingsleigh made?” Bennett gestured at the key holder.
“Yeah sure. It’s neat. Joe’s a great woodworker. Come on, we gotta go.”
Bennett looked confused, but he followed his parents out the door. DeeDee cast an apologetic glance back at Michelle one more time as the door closed.
Kingsleigh waved goodbye without saying a word. Now she wandered over to her mom and hung on her arm.
“I’m going to draw Bennett a treasure map.”
Michelle patted her arm. “All right. I’ll call you when Kevin gets home from piano.”
She turned back to her tea with a thoughtful expression. There was something DeeDee told her when Bennett called out Kingsleigh’s abilities another time and the two women had to back her up.
“I’m glad we were here,” DeeDee had said. “I know Kingsleigh is amazing, both her art skills and her honesty. But, really, Bennett is just like his dad sometimes.”
Michelle could hear Kingsleigh rifling through her drawers for pencils and paper. She lifted one more cookie to her mouth, slowly chewing as she weighed the implications of speaking out or holding her own counsel.