On a Remote Hilltop

Much needed rain steadily fell all night, filling the rain barrels and turning the fields into slop. Tabitha woke first to the cool morning. Quickly gaining her senses in the cold, she donned her night shirt and peeked around her shade. Predawn light provided enough lumens to see across the room. Toby's curtain was still drawn. Knowing he will be up before sunrise, she needed to get moving.

Tabitha looked at Tim and tried to understand what was happening to them. This was the same Tim she has spent every day of her life with and knows everything about, yet he looks very different. All the tricks and teasing and foul attitudes of the past seemed gone, like a distant memory. He was new, he was a man, and he treated her with kindness and gentleness. He made her feel wanted and beautiful, and physically gave her treats she never knew were inside of her. She wanted to share them with him again, to show him how much he meant to her right now, but the demands of the day were here and reluctantly, she had to get started.

Tabitha slipped out of bed and rolled her sleepy eyes realizing she now needed to pull the night shirt back off and get into her day clothes. Better to get out of bed with the night shirt on than get a questioning look from Toby if she emerged bare.

She added two logs to the fire and went outside to relieve herself and wash her flowery parts. Rain was pattering, not pouring, so she went over to the coop and grabbed a dozen eggs, then back to kitchen.

Tim and Tabitha had never met another human being besides Toby. Tilda, they had met only in stories. All their education was from Toby and most of it had to do with farming and survival. He did teach them to read and do some basic math. Count the chickens today, count them tomorrow, what's the difference? Their literature consisted of an old book of fairy tales that was very worn. He taught them how to prepare food, light a fire, care for the animals, how plants grow and how animals produce more animals.

Something about this was really important.

Her thoughts remained on her and Tim. What was this? This closeness, these feelings, the intensity? Why did it feel like we should be hiding it, like we discovered something new and didn't want to tell Toby in case he would take it away. She thought of the goats and memories of seeing them mate floated across her mind, then the hens letting the roosters be on them, then thought of the kids from yesterday and nearly fainted.

Oh dear daffodil, did we just mate? The thought paralyzed her. Waves of anxiety rushed through her as she thought of the kids, birthing, chicks hatching, and which one was she going to produce. Maybe she could just lay some eggs and no one would know. Wait! No! This can't be right. She strained to think clearly.

Tabitha went through her morning routine with all these thoughts. Boiling eggs, making flat cakes, and cutting some dried meat to set on the table.

Toby had not stirred.

Tim woke up to the aroma of flat cakes and a bladder that demanded relief. He rubbed his eyes and the evening adventure came flooding back to him. A big smile emerged on his face and he felt something crackle. He reached up to find dried crispiness, like sleep, over his cheeks and chin. He rubbed some of it off, but the smile remained.

He hopped out of bed and faced Tabitha in the kitchen.

Tabitha turned toward the movement and watched Tim spring out of bed, fully bare with a silly smile on his face. She quickly glanced toward Toby and back at Tim who was already on one leg trying to pull his trousers on, then he rushed outside without a shirt.

While relieving himself, he realized he should wash up down there. Apparently, this activity required a bit of cleanup afterword.

In the rain, he attempted to pull his pants down far enough so he wouldn't pour water onto them while he attempted to wash his little man and acorns. He understood 'acorns' when he was younger, when Toby was telling him and Tab what their body parts were called, but they seem more like pecans, now.

The awkward washing position resulted in him slipping on his rear, thankfully in the grass. He double checked his work, pulled up his drawers, and headed to breakfast.

Tabitha turned and watched Tim walk back in. His hair was wet and hanging down to his shoulders, his body had droplets of water running over its curves, his pants were soaked and clung to his waist and thighs. She felt drawn to him like something invisible was pulling her there. She felt warm and flushed and thoughts began of a fantasy.

"Is breakfast ready?" Tim inquired, widening his grin.

Tabitha, lost in her gaze, finally replied. "Ya, uh, yes. Put a shirt on."

She broke her gaze away to put the last of the cakes on a plate then sat them on the table with the boiled eggs, jar of honey, blackberry preserves, and a crock of goat butter.

Tim, now fully dressed and in dry pants, came to the table. They both stared at the drawn curtain in front of Toby's bed. The sun was up, but Toby was not. This is not normal.

Tim walked over and patted the curtain. "Hoy Toby? he said softly. No response, but he could hear breathing which was encouraging. Tim grabbed the foot end of the curtain, thought for a second, then moved to the head end and opened it slightly.

Toby lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing normally as best he could tell. "Toby?" He said a bit louder. No response.

Tim looked back at Tabitha then back to Toby. He reached out to nudge his shoulder but caught himself and let him sleep.

"Let's let him sleep. You said he was not well yesterday, so maybe he should just sleep it off." Tim said in his best reassuring voice.

Tabitha hesitated, unconsciously bit her lip and sat down across from Tim. All the food lay in front of them, their hunger was calling, but all they could do is look at each other. So many emotions, new sensations, wild thoughts, and valid concerns held them in uncertainty.

Their stomachs broke the stalemate and they both reached for a cake. Tim slathered butter and preserves on his, Tabitha drizzled hers with honey, rolled them up and dipped them into butter. They feasted but made sure there was plenty for Toby when he woke up.

They went outside after breakfast to go about their chores. They walked shoulder to shoulder before needing to go in different directions. They turned and admitted that they needed to talk and they must find some time today. Tim suggested they meet in the barn so they can look after the kids and they can talk then.

Tabitha nodded, turned, then quickly turned back. She grabbed Tim's shoulder and kissed him strong and wanting, but short. She broke away just as quickly as she had turned to him and walked off to milk the goats.

Tim watched her go, imagining he could see her butt under that thick dress. He smiled at all the enjoyment over the last day and this new feeling he had for Tabitha. He felt like holding her and protecting her. From what he didn't know. It was just a feeling.

Tim strode over to the barn and poked his head in. The kids were both nursing. That was good to see. He filled a pail of water for Elley and went over to the top terrace known as Terrace One, since is was the first one you came to from the house.

The plow was in the field and leather straps soaking wet in the winter weeds. The rain had stopped, but there was still mist in the air and the sun did not seem interested in coming out to dry things off. Tim shook the water off the straps, harnessed himself, gave a few test pulls to make sure everything was the way it needed to be, then put force into it, promptly slipping and face planting into the mud.

He got up to his knees quickly and checked himself for injury and heard girl laughter in the distance.

Tabitha was enjoying the show from her milking stool and burst into laughter watching him splat into the mud. He was coated from head to toe and didn't move the plow an inch. With wounded pride, he attempted to lift the blade to start a new groove, but heard scrapping. The blade had hit a rock. No wonder this is where Toby called it quits yesterday. He dug for a while and dislodged the stone, then re-strapped himself and off he went, trudging forward.

The ground was slippery and muddy, but he was able to gain enough traction to pull the blade.

Tabitha finished the milking and turned back to look at Tim who had nearly finished the top terrace. She admired his hard work and his strength. She thought of him coming in from the rain this morning and felt flush again. She smiled to herself and brought the milk up to the barn to skim it.

She checked on Toby who had eaten some of the breakfast she left out for him, but was back in bed.

She washed up and fixed some lunch from the leftover breakfast and took a basket and pail of water to Tim.

Tim drank a few ladles and tried to wash his hands, but there was not enough water to get that accomplished. Tabitha took a flat cake, smeared thick butter on it, added honey and a strip of meat, and rolled it up into a tight tube and fed him. She enjoyed serving him and coming up with the idea of how to do this so he wouldn't have to touch his lunch.

Tim thanked her and she kissed him softly, lingering a bit to express her affection. Tim smiled back with a hungry grin, beginning to imagine them both naked in the mud.

Tabitha headed back to the house. On the way she rolled up one of the cakes and had a bite. The thought came to her that the rolled-up cake sort of looked like and was the size of Tim's little man. She put it back to her mouth and let it stay a second before biting down and chewing. She began to think of last night.

Tim had finished her fantasy without her ever completing it in her mind. She wondered if she could do the same for him and the rolled-up cake was starting to make sense to her. She put it back in her mouth and let her tongue glide across it. She pulled it back out and her teeth tore the top of the cake. She tried again, careful not to let her teeth scrape the bread so only her lips, tongue and cheeks touched the roll. That didn't seem too difficult she thought as she bit down and ate the rest of it. I wonder if he would like that, she mused to herself hoping to surprise him when they had the chance.

They still needed to talk, however.

Tim completed Terrace One and Terrace Two. It was dark as he hauled his exhausted body up to the barn to wash off. He shed his clothes and poured bucket after bucket over himself, scrubbing the caked-on dirt and sweat until his skin was pink and he could no longer detect any leftovers from his day in the field. The cold water gave him enough energy to make it to the house.

Tabitha had put together a spring stew full of tubers from last season, fresh scallions she cut that day, along with mutton, dried tomatoes, and olives. She made muffins from oats and applesauce and had creamed cheese and butter to go with them.

Tim nearly cried when he smelled the wonderful aromas while entering the house.

Tabitha nearly dropped the stoneware when Tim entered fully nude. That never used to bother her, but now it bothered her as if seeing him naked triggered her into wanting to wrap her naked body around him. Her thoughts, so focused on dinner just seconds ago, now raced in another direction.

His nakedness was distracting!

"Tim! Put some clothes on!" She piped at him sounding frustrated.

Tim fell out of his food trance hearing what sounded like a reprimand. "Fine, I am about to do that. Just need to walk over here and grab some clothes." Not knowing why he had to state the obvious in his defense. Red strap marks lined his shoulders and chest.

Tabitha turned away and saw Toby sitting up in bed. He was not paying attention to either of them. He eased his legs over the side with considerable effort and stopped, breathing shallow and raspy. Tabitha was at his side in an instant. "Toby? Are you fine?" She asked with sadness and concern, knowing he was certainly not fine.

"Oh, my little flower." Toby managed to say with much effort. "It smells like you made a good dinner." He smiled and crooked his head lovingly her way. The expression quickly faded as his current reality demanded control of his senses.

"Let me help you to the table." Tabitha reached for the closest arm just as Tim arrived to help with the other.

"We got you Toby." Tim gently assured him as they eased him out of bed and assisted him to his chair.

Both Tim and Tabitha were leaking tears seeing Toby like this. The worry they had put in the back of their minds was replaced by many of the ugly faces of fear. Dinner was on the table, but forgotten in their concern.

Toby's eyes, more pale and gray than they had ever seen looked them over. "Sit my loves." He ordered softly. "Let's enjoy this night and the bounty our hill provides when mixed with the labor of our chores." He seemed to pray the words.

Tim and Tabitha sat, not taking their watering eyes off Toby.

Toby sat for a couple moments and finally rasped, "Stop, enough of this. Yes, I am not feeling well and perhaps we need to talk more about it, but let's do that after we enjoy what is on our table.

Tim, open the trunk at the foot of my bed and fetch a bottle. I want to show you something."

"Yes-sir." Tim replied respectfully and went to his trunk. It's odd, he thought. All the time living in this house which is much smaller than the barn and it feels odd to look at the place from this side of it. He realized that he and Tab had spent almost all their time on the other side, by their bed, the fireplace area or kitchen area, but not on Toby's side. This was his area, his things, and many of those things were mysteries, like this trunk.

Tim had seen this trunk since his first memories, but did not know what was inside, nor did he ever recall seeing Toby open it. What could be in here? Toby said, 'a bottle'? A bottle of what?

He opened the dusty old wood and leather strapped trunk and the lid rested against the foot of the bed. Inside were rows of tall bottles that were wide at the base and narrowed toward the top. The tops were plugged with cork wood. He had rarely seen cork wood and was fascinated with the bottles, the symmetry of the rows, the cork and what they may contain.

Tim pulled one out and brought it to the table. "Here you are." Tim handed Toby the treasure.

"Tabby, fetch the twist tool off the mantle." Toby motioned toward the thick wooden beam where many odds and ends were placed or hung. One of the curiosities about the visually stimulating display, which they were all used to, was a wood handled device with a twisted metal blade that protruded from a thick flat handle. Since it was the only item up there that matched the word, 'twist', she knew what to grab.

"Also, get three of the glass cups." Toby, as frail as he was, smiled inside that he could still do some things, even if he was planted in his chair.

The glass cups were not to be touched since they could be broken easily is what Tim and Tabitha learned long ago. Tabitha retrieved them as gently as if a bee was perched on her hand, bringing them to the table in reverence of the occasion.

Tim and Tabitha looked inquisitively at Toby who grabbed the bottle, turned it over a few times, then took the opener as if it were a common place item and dug the sharp end of the twist into the cork. They looked on in fear and fascination as Toby drilled into the precious cork and began pulling, but not making any progress. He motioned to Tim who timidly assisted holding the bottle and pulling on the tool which resulted in a high pitched 'pop'. They had never heard a sound like that and it brought smiles to their forlorn expressions as Toby introduced them to this new experience.

"Here, line up the glasses." Toby said with a bit less rasp than before. He swilled the bottle a bit more and poured a rich red and fragrant liquid into the glasses.

"That's nice." He smiled. "This is what you can do with all those grapes up above the house. I'll tell you how tonight and I wrote out instructions on a paper tucked in the back of my trunk. He motioned them to grab a glass.

"This is from the grapes?" Tim expressed with genuine surprise that aligned with Tabitha's expression. The grapes were small and nearly all of them were too sour to eat. They followed Toby's lead and sniffed their glasses that were filled with deep red liquid. It smelled rich and fragrant almost like wet wood. It did not smell like grapes.

They watched Toby take a small sip then a larger one. Tabitha and Tim looked at each other and raised their glasses.

In the dimly lit room, seated at the old wood slab table, with shadows on their faces, their eyes opened wide with sensations as they sipped the liquid. They anticipated the sourness of grapes they disliked. Instead, they were met with a surprising array of aromas and a hint of something they couldn't quite place—earthy, like the forest after rain.

The red liquid danced on Tabitha's tongue, a complex pattern of flavors. It was nothing like the simple sweetness of fruits, this was deeper, with hints of things she couldn't name—maybe cherries or the berries they found in the woods, but intertwined with a warmth and a richness that filled her senses. The sourness was there, but it was transformed, nuanced, mingling with a refreshing sweetness. The alcohol, novel to them, left a slight warmth in her throat, a feeling as comforting as Tim's embrace.

Tim was not at all prepared for the sensation. The drink was soft yet bold on his tongue, a slight tingle accompanying the warmth that spread through him. He tried to describe it, the words escaping him, "It's like... warm, but also cool and there are a lot of familiar and not familiar flavors. It makes me feel warm, like it's warming me up."

The two were silent for a moment, processing the new experience. The complexity of the red drink, the way its flavors unfolded and lingered, left them in awe. They had expected to dislike it, to push it away like sour grapes, but found themselves taking another sip, then another, their initial hesitance giving way to fascination.

Toby watched them, a knowing smile on his face. He remembered his first taste, the confusion and the wonder. He saw the same emotions play across their faces as they navigated their first encounter with this ancient beverage.

"This," he said hoarsely, "is the magic of the earth, the sun, and the rain, all captured in a bottle. It's a reminder that even things we think we don't like can surprise us, can be transformed into something wonderful."

Tim and Tabitha looked at their glasses and took a little larger drink.

"It's called, Vino, and it is a beautiful drink for the right times. It is very appealing, but be careful with it because it does has a dark side."

Tim and Tabitha half put their glasses down after their third drink. "What do you mean?" Tabitha asked with curious hesitancy. They have been told not to put certain things in their mouth as kids, because they were dangerous. Don't drink still water, don't drink dirty water, don't drink things that smell bad, don't drink blood or your wastewater. What could be dangerous about this wonderful thing called, Vino? All this raced through her mind before Toby could finish his next sentence.

"Vino can make you feel good in the evening and bad in the morning." Toby mentored, gazing at them in an attempt to ingrain this information in their young minds. "You will see." He said with a smile as he raised his glass again and held it face high.

Tim and Tabitha, rapt with attention, followed suit. They held their glasses and drank when Toby drank, enjoying the glow inside their bellies.

They dug into the meal and had lively conversation about the day. Toby listened and enjoyed their banter, savoring the time he had left with them. He did not know what to expect when his light finally went out, but he wanted to take this memory with him. He loved these two as dearly as he loved Tilda.