Emily Losito

Windows Rewrite

The wooden and rickety house stood there. It looked like it would topple over
if there was a big gust of wind. A thin frame surrounded the screen of the illfitting door. Dust and dirt caked the porch and the steps.
Just beyond the steps was a sea of dried out soil. Last season, there would
have been rows of golden corn, but this year the sun had scorched the earth.
It was just morning and George could already feel the white-hot, merciless
sun boring down onto the field.
There stood one tall oak tree at the end of the property. Its branches
reaching out towards the sky, praying for rain. Its roots tangled deep in the
earth, anchoring itself to the crumbling land.
George sat on the porch staring out into the field. He looked down at his raw
hands; they seemed much older than a 13-year-olds. He didnt look like he
was 13 to begin with. George was already 6 foot, his skin was darkly tanned
and his hair was sun-bleached from being in the sun all day, and he had
calluses on his feet and hands as big as quarters.
Peter sat down beside him. His overalls and boots were a size too big. He
was thin and small for nine. His sandy hair feathered in front of his eyes as
he tried to lace up his shoes. Peters skin was tanned too, but not as much as
Georges.
Pop came out and rolled up his sleeves, All right, George. Lets get to it.
Peter, you stay inside with Momma for a while. Make sure we have enough
water in the ditch barrels.
George sighed and followed his father out into the field. Throughout the
morning and early afternoon, Pop directed George. He spoke sternly about
how to handle corn and when to harvest it and how to take care of the soil.

Yer gonna have to learn this. We need to get this field back in shape or we
aint gonna have corn to sell in town.
Pop, weve been digging these ditches for a week. How are you so sure
theyll hold the water and help grow the corn?
Have a little faith. Ill figure it out if it dont work, he tried to hide his
concern by looking away.

They worked hard into the day. Peter came out later in the afternoon to help
fill some of the ditches with water. The bucket he carried was almost the size
of him and water slopped over the sides.
George, go help him. He cant carry it.
George jogged over to Peter, Come on, I cant do this all by myself.
Im sorry, George, its just really heavy.
Be a man about it, George grabbed the bucket forcefully and poured it into
the grooved dirt.
Peter stood there looking at his feet.
George, annoyed but regretful, patted Peters back and told him to keep
bringing water out.
This went on until Pop said it was time to wash up for dinner. The boys
walked over to the water spout and washed their hands. Peter said
something about wanting to play, but George didnt hear him. His mind was
still in the field thinking about how much work they still had to do. Pop has
been putting more and more pressure on George lately and it was hard.
George, cmon, Pop said from inside the door. George hadnt noticed that
Peter had gone inside a few minutes ago and they were all waiting at the
dinner table.
George sat down and they held hands for grace. He noticed some funny
smelling herbs on the table next to a candle Momma had lit. He shook it off
as Pop started his prayer.
Lord, we ask ya to bring us a miracle. Please help our field be prosperous
and full, and let our corn grow and stay. In your name we pray. Amen.
They released hands and began to eat. Its been the same meal for a while,
broth and bread. Hardly any flavor and hardly enough to eat. Mommas
cheeks and eyes had started to look like they were sunken in. Pops wrinkles
on his forehead became more pronounced. Their stress and worry had begun
to show.

George laid in his bed that night staring at the ceiling. The moon shone
through the window between his and Peters beds. George thought about the
hard day to come tomorrow. The corn had only just started to grow. Small

sprouts poked out above the rows of dirt. He thought about the field until he
drifted to sleep.

Pop shook him awake early the next morning, Cmon son. We gotta get to
movin.
George sat up lazily. It was still dark, but he found his overalls and slid his
legs in them. He went downstairs and grabbed a piece of bread for breakfast.
The sky had started to turn a dark purple as the sun began to rise. He sat on
the porch, holding the bread in his mouth, and tied up his shoes.
As he finished his breakfast, he looked out into the field. There was someone
out there crouching over the new corn. George stood up and looked back into
the house and then to the field again.
Pop? George called out.
I see em too, he said coming from behind him.
The sky was growing lighter and lighter by the minute. They began walking
out to the figure. The sun peaked over the earth. The figure stood up. It was
a woman.
Hello there, she said, trying to keep her wild red hair out of her face. My
name is Meg, she stuck out her pale hand towards Pop.
He shook it and asked, If I may ask, miss, what are ya doin out here?
Well I heard you needed some help with your field, and I have knack for
these sorts of things.
Well, I appreciate it, but I wouldnt want you in the sun all day, especially if
you dont got shoes.
Meg looked down and her feet and back at Pop and laughed, Oh Im sure Ill
be fine.
George stayed behind Pop observing this woman. He could feel the heat from
the sun already and knew there was a long day ahead of them.
And who is this young man? Meg peeked around Pop.
This here is my oldest boy, George.
George, she repeated, its nice to meet you. Im going to help you all out
today.

Would you look at that, Pop said. He went over to where Meg was bent
over earlier. The small sprouts that were there yesterday were now almost
fully grown stalks.
Peter trotted over, curious about the stranger in the field. He stopped cold
when her head snapped in his direction.
And who are you? she grinned.
P-Peter, he nervously said.
You are so cute, I could just eat you up, her eyes flashed.
Peter took a step back. She stared at him until Pop suggested they started
working while still in awe of the corn stalks.
Meg spun around and began to help Pop.
They worked throughout the day, carving more ditches for irrigation on the
sides of the rows of corn. She was fast and made everything seem so
effortless. Peter occasionally brought buckets of water out and gave them to
George.
It seemed that everything Meg touched instantly grew. She said she knew all
the tricks to getting things to grow quickly. The dry dirt now seemed lush and
soft and began retaining water for the plants.
Its all about how you plant the seed and feed it. You need to have the best
intentions for it and say a little prayer. Meg brushed off her dress and stood
up to assess the field. They had done three quarters of it.
Pop said it was time for dinner, so they headed inside.
Ill come back tomorrow and help finish the field, Meg said.
Oh please stay for supper, Momma said. Its the least we can do to try and
repay you for all youve done.
Yes, and ya cant be walkin home. Itll be getting dark soon and ya dont
know whats out there, Meg, Pop added.
All right, if you insist, she sat down.
Momma put a couple chopped vegetables and the last of the chicken into the
broth. She said it was because today was special. She even gave Peter an
extra slice of bread with butter on it.
So where are your folks? Momma asked.
Oh, here and there. I live a little ways to the east, Meg smiled.

Do you have any children?

Maybe someday, Meg glanced at Peter.
Peter looked at his bowl.
They finished supper and Meg tried to head back home. Momma convinced
her to stay.
We can set you up in the boys room. They can sleep somewhere else
tonight.
Oh thats all right, Meg waved her hand. Ill just sleep on she looked
around the nearly desolate rooms. Ah, this chair looks perfect, she walked
over to a matted, pink cushioned chair.
Thats a mighty fine choice, Miss Meg, Pop said. I take my Sunday naps on
it so I have faith you can sleep on it too.
Meg smiled and said goodnight after the dishes were done and curled her
small body onto the chair. Momma shooed the boys upstairs.

I think shes strange, George whispered afraid his voice would carry
through the old floors.
Peter didnt say a word.
I know we havent been talkin much, but just tell me that theres somethin
off about Meg. She didnt really say anythin about herself. Its just strange.
Silence.
Im sorry that we cant play like we used to. Pop just has me workin real
hard. Ive told him I want to go to school, and I heard about a lady who gives
lessons for real little money.
Maybe I could come too.
We could go together. I wanna learn about battles and presidents. He was
quiet for a moment.
Maybe if we finish the field Pop will let us go to school, Peter said.
Yeah. Shes odd though. What do you think?
She is pretty weird.
The boys didnt say anything else and quietly fell asleep.

It sounded like something was crawling on the house, Peter shook George
awake.
Shut your mouth and get your stinkin hands off me, George shoved Peter
away.
Just listen, his eyes looked frantically around the room.
I told you to shut your mouth and go back to sleep. I still have time to
sleep.
Please just be quiet, Peter stood by the bedroom door twisting his hands.
George was about to push Peter again when he heard it. A small scraping
noise on the roof. Scratches traced the outside wall of the bedroom. George
stood up and looked out the window. The moon was bright and he could see
the dark outline of the growing corn. The old wood creaked and groaned and
there were retreating skitters.
It was probably just the wind, he said.
Peter still stayed tucked away in the corner of the room.
It stopped, so just go back to sleep, he laid back down on his bed and
stared at Peter until he reluctantly climbed back into bed too.

The boys went downstairs in the morning. Momma and Meg were already
making tea. They grabbed a quick breakfast and headed out into the field for
the day. The afternoon went on. Some conversation occurred between Pop
and Meg. George eyed her curiously but kept working. Peter never spoke and
kept his distance.
Youre awfully quiet, Peter, Meg said.
Peter shrugged with a blank look on his face.
She smiled and kept working.
I reckon well finish this field today, Pop laughed as he wiped the sweat
from his forehead. Its all because of you, Meg. I never thought we could do
it. The corn is blossoming and the soil looks better. We may end up on top of
this after all, he began to choke up.
Its my pleasure, she put her hands on her hips. I think I must be going
now. My job here is done it seems.
We appreciate you Miss Meg. Youve done so much.

She waved as she walked barefoot through the field and into the late
afternoon sun.

They finished the field just in time for dinner. Pop ran excitedly into the
house and spun Momma around. He said an extra-long prayer before they
ate and thanked the Lord for bringing Meg into their lives.
Pop gave Peter an extra scoop of soup and rustled his hair.

The boys went up to bed after dishes were done.

Im glad shes gone, Peter said.
Yeah she was strange. Maybe we can go to school soon.

Rain created a hushed white noise against the house. It was a full moon; the
pale light seeped in through the glass and illuminated the dusty floor. Slow
scratches raked the roof. George opened his eyes and looked across the
room at Peter. He laid there trembling under the sheets. There were two
small taps on the window. It slowly began to open. George was frozen.
A black figure leapt into the room grabbing Peter by the arm. He let out a
gut-wrenching scream and cried out for George. George jumped up and the
figure snarled and hopped out the window towing Peter behind it.
Peter! George rushed towards the window.
Peter was being dragged away by the figure through the mud. George
sprinted down the stairs and out the door. He chased after Peter along the
side of the field. He ran out by the big tree and he saw the figure spin
towards him with matted, red hair.
M-Meg? George stuttered.
The green eyes shone like candles. Hes mine, it growled, barring its sharp
teeth.
No! George dashed towards Peters limp and bloody body.
It hissed and grabbed Peter by the shoulder, digging its long nails into his
collar bone. Peter didnt make a sound. I helped your fathers farm. Peter. Is.
Mine.
George stopped in his tracks, What?

Ask your father. He knows. The debt has been paid, it snarled again and
sprinted off into the night pulling Peter behind it.
George shook in the rain, tears streaming down his face. His father. Georges
face twisted in disgust as he stormed into the house up to his parents room.
What deal did you make with her? he spat.
What are you talking about? Pop sat up.
Whats wrong, George? Momma asked.
Megthat thing. It helped you with the farm. It took Peter! he shouted.
Pops shoulders sagged and he lowered his head. We needed the farm to
stay afloat. I knew we couldnt do it on our own. I found someone who knew
about some magic. Megshe was a farming fairy. She provides prosperity,
he said and looked at George hoping he would understand.
George stepped back.
She did all that work in the field to help us, he paused, but she had a
price.
I cant believe you would Why Peter? He was only nine,
Please try to understand, George. We need this field to survive.
No. Hes my brother. Hes your son. You cant, George ran to his bedroom
and grabbed a few things. He jumped on his fathers horse and rode off into
the night. Uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. All he could hear
were Peters screams replaying in his head.