Brick Boy

Introduction.

 Ireland, 1842................. 

" Pa, d' ya want me to feed the pigs now?" a young boy called from behind a huge haystack. 

" Yes, m' boy, now," came the weak reply. 

" Sure, Pa." The wiry red-haired boy stepped out from behind the haystack and over to his Pa. 

" Here, Pa, Doc Murphey says lemongrass is good for truckulosse, or whatever it is you've got. I bought it with my own money!" the boy exclaimed triumphantly, and beamed. 

" Ah, Jonah, m' boy, you shouldn't have!" said Pa, before a fit of coughing overcame him. 

Jonah Mullaney was a caring boy. He had a soft spot for his father and it was hard on him, since Pa had become sick. With his best friend, Calvin O'Callaghan, he was constantly coming up with new ways to make Pa better. Nothing ever helped. We were both 13 the year Pa got sick. He was diagnosed with tuberculosis, an almost always fatal disease. We watched his health deteriorate daily. Jonah was heartbroken. Then, at 14, he became determined to make Pa better. 

My name is Ivan. Jonah is my twin. We both had red hair and greenish eyes, but they sometimes changed color. Though we were identical, our personalities were entirely different. Jonah was very outgoing and friendly and I'm not trying to say that I'm mean or anything, but I didn't really enjoy playing with other children. They just didn't understand me. I don't even know if I understood me. I was really quiet. I'd rather sit by myself on a lone rock somewhere, or go off to a different field on the farm instead of playing with my brother or sisters. There were many rumors about me, but I didn't really care what people thought of me. It was better that way. One was that I was only close to my sheep, but I knew that wasn't true. Well, maybe a little. I could get by on my own. 

Pa loved the family. His name was Patrick Mullaney. It was he who always brought the family back together after something bad had happened, or if there was a family fight. He could calm the wind on a stormy day and he was well known in town for being affectionate and kind to everyone. 

My sister, Jamie, was a very happy child. She had many friends, for she made them easily. For and 11 year old she was quite bright, as well as being very pretty. She had shoulder-length golden ringlets, and dazzling blue eyes. Boys in our town fawned over her, there eyes as wide as saucers. 

My younger sister, Lucy, was also pretty, but not in the same way as Jamie. She had long reddish-brown hair and blue-green eyes. When Pa got sick, she had her heart set on becoming a princess, but instead she had to help out on the farm. So she worked with the potatoes and our whithered wheat every day until lunch, when she'd skip over to her friends house to play. 

My Ma, Gina Mullaney, was strict and orderly, you never saw a thing out of place in her house. She never called us by our names, just by the callings she had made for us. I was Brick Boy; Jonah was Milk Boy; Jamie was Water Girl; and Lucy was Wood Girl. We were all accustomed to Ma's boxing our ears or giving us good spankings if we did something bad or wrong. The year Pa got sick, Ma became pregnant again with her 5th child, not that she cared. But it was harder on us because in addition to running the farm for Pa, she insisted we had to all the household chores as well. It was a difficult time for us. 

I had been listening to my brother and father's conversation from my loft bedroom. My favorite sheep, Rosemary, lay beside me on the hay. I stroked her rough fur calmly. They continued, " Pa, would you like me to put the lemongrass in your afternoon tea?" Jonah asked. "Ah, that would be nice m' boy. Thank you" Pa wheezed, his expression pained. He knew he was dying. Jonah just didn't seem to understand. Nothing would work. It annoyed me to see him to happy and excited to try every little new cure. Jonah came into the house, while I stepped carefully down the ladder that connected my loft bedroom to the kitchen. I saw Jonah boiling water for Pa's tea and decided to intervene. I don't know what came over me, I just lost it.

 " Jonah, stop," I said quietly. 

" What?" he exclaimed, turning around," Oh, Ivan, it's you. What do you mean?" 

I blew up, " Stop helping Pa! It's been almost a year since he got sick and he hasn't gotten any better. Just let it rest. You have to realize that there is nothing more you can do for him. He's dying. Don't you understand that? He hates seeing you trying to help him because he knows, too. He knows that he is going to die, and it hurts him to see you suffer. He loves you." Jonah's round childish face turned to a mask of pure horror. He started backing away from me slowly. 

"Wait, Jonah!" I whispered. He shook his head back and forward, denying what I'd said. I reached for him, hoping my face showed my regret, but he turned on his heel, scooping the cup of tea up from the wood table, and then racing out of the room, back to Pa. I smacked my head. What had I done?