Wait Till Your Father Gets Home

Glad you could join us for the next independent episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Elliot 098
Photo credit: robinbabu

With the sun warming the meadow, Vernon and Fergus took refuge in the woods’ indelible shadows.

“Tell me, laddie, what became of that fancy fella? Is he really as ahful as yer friends had him soundin’?”

“D’Arc? He was worse, but he met with a sticky end. You’re fortunate you never had to deal with him.”

“We keep ta ourselves out here — mindin’ our own business, livin’ our own lives — respectin’ our neighbors. We’ve no need fer a king or a queen ta tell us what ta do. Nivver really cared ta have anyone lordin’ it over us.”

“Did you know Spike and his rebels were preparing to do just that?” Vernon asked. “Were you ready to fight them?”

“Fight?! Oh, I’m not a fighter — I’m a fahther — and I’m tryin’ ta teach me little ones that the most impartant thing is lairnin’ ta get along. Life should be fulla laughter and luv. It’s too short ta fill it with hatred and anger.”

“That’s a fine sentiment, friend, but good leaders want to keep the peace.”

“More than likely they’re wantin’ to keep a piece fer themselves. If the people are happy and practice dealin’ fairly with their neighbors, they’ll not be needin’ someone ta tell ’em how.”

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been here and the rebels had taken over?”

“Ah. Then there’d be fighters like yourself arisin’ ta become heroes of legend and song!” Laughing, Fergus looked sideways at Vernon. “Maybe ya shoulda waited till the rebels struck — it’s gonna be hard ta convince people ya saved ’em from a tyrant when they’ve no experience of tyranny.” He raised one eyebrow and rubbed his chin. “I could vouch fer ya if ya like.”

Shaking his head, Vernon chuckled and followed Fergus around a dead stump to be greeted by shrieks of “Papa! Papa! Yer home!”

“Me little darlins, that I am — and happy ta be so! Tell me,” he asked from inside a smothering of hugs and kisses, “is yer mother about?”

From a place in the bushes Vernon could not yet see, a powerful voice rang out.

“Fergus Eugene O’Shay! Git yerself in here this minute!”

To be continued. . .

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

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Author: Sue Ranscht

I am a writer. Let me tell you a story...

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