Chapter 4: Cindy's Fella, Part 1

Cindy dug the shovel into the large pile of manure left behind by Cleopatra. The strong odour of the manure surrounded her and she breathed it in. Her sisters, step-sisters actually, could hardly stand to enter the barn, never mind help to clean it. Cindy loved the barn. It was her refuge from the annoyances of life in the manor house. She dumped the shovel load into the wheelbarrow and dug in for another load. It was truly astonishing how much one rather elderly cow could produce, both milk and manure. To Cindy's mind they were of equal importance. The milk paid for the day to day expenses of the manor while the manure went to fertilize the garden patch that would feed them through the winter.

It took several trips to bring Cleopatra's contribution to the garden and properly dig it in around the vegetables, especially the large pumpkin. She was hoping to enter it in the fair. Cindy could have made just the one trip, but her step-mother didn't think it proper for her to sling the wheelbarrow around like a common farm hand. Besides it took longer this way.

Yet no matter how much she dawdled over the work, the work got done and she had to put away the tools and go back up to the house.

"Cindy," Anatolia looked up from where she lounged on the couch. "When's supper? I am famished."

"I will start it immediately," Cindy said.

"Cindy," Zetta wrinkled her nose, "You stink, I will simply not eat anything you cook before you wash."

"But I'll die if I don't eat soon." Anatolia rubbed her generous stomach.

"I doubt that very much," the girls' mother said, "Cindy go wash. You must learn to be more careful. A lady doesn't reek of the barn."

Cindy guessed she wasn't much of a lady then, since she usually reeked of the barn. She knew better than to say anything. Her step-mother wasn't too lady-like to wield a rod to chastise Cindy. Not that Cindy liked stinking to high heaven, but she saw it as an inescapable result of her efforts to feed the family.

Her family, such as it was, was otherwise completely incapable of caring for themselves. Her father had been a successful and comfortable farmer. When he died, his second wife and her daughters discovered that it took a great deal of work to be successful farmers. Work that they were completely unwilling to put in. The farm was sold off piece meal until only the large 'manor' house and barn remained with just enough land to plant a garden.

She would have liked to have soaked properly, but the threat of Anatolia's complaints drove her out the water. She dried off quickly and put her cooking dress on. It was an older mode with tighter sleeves unlikely to catch fire from the old stove.

Cindy didn't like the kitchen as much as the barn. She didn't mind cooking but there were constant interruptions.

"Is there something I can eat while I wait?" Anatolia asked as she shuffled through the narrow door. Another year and she wouldn't fit.

"There are some peeled carrots on the table," Cindy pounded on the tough meat to tenderize it enough to meet her step-mother's exacting standards.

"I don't want carrots," Anatolia whined, "Don't you have any sweets?"

"No," Cindy said, "You know your mother has banned sweets."

"And with good reason," Zetta walked in a sniffed to check on Cindy's level of cleanliness., "if you get any bigger you won't fit your dresses and Mother doesn't want to take them out again."

Anatolia picked up a carrot and heaved a great sigh. She sidled back out of the kitchen.

"Make sure you cut all the fat off my meat," Zetta said. "You missed some last night." She followed her sister out of the kitchen.

Cindy had no idea what they did with themselves through the day. They never seemed to be very far apart. Her step-mother spent her days plotting how to restore the fallen fortunes of the farm without actually going so far as to do any work. Cindy was content with the way things were. She couldn't manage a large farm by herself. Right now, she was just able to keep the balance between being busy and being able to finish her work.

She supposed some people would be upset by the demands of her step-family. But Cindy would be doing all the work anyway. After changing her dress for dinner and eating with the others she did the dishes. The last thing she did every night was milk Cleopatra.

It was dim in the barn and the old cow mooed a welcome to Cindy. She set the stool beside the cow and set the bucket in place. Cindy marveled that this last remaining cow continued to give milk in generous amounts. When the milking was done, she put the milk in the cool urn, then spent some time brushing Cleopatra. She put down fresh straw for the cow and fill the manger with hay and the trough with clean water.

Cindy took one last breath of the barn air redolent with smell of everything she loved, then closed the doors and went off to bed.

***

She woke to the sound of the birds singing outside her window.

"Dratted birds," she mumbled as she put on her barn clothes and went out to milk Cleopatra. She patted the old cow and went through the chores. After breakfast her step-mother sent her into town to buy a couple of things.

"I have work to do," Cindy said.