Once inside the tall brick house, Cousin Will walked ahead of me up the narrow stairs at the right of the front door. He had not offered to carry my valise, but I should have refused anyway. I knew I was small for my age, but working on the farm had made me strong and I was determined not to ask for help. He did carry up my box of books though, and I felt it was wise to let him do that.
Will was a tall, gangly young man, with red hair and freckles, who had to duck through the doorways and under the sloping ceiling of my room. I thought he was about twenty-four, a year older than Nell. He liked to tease me about my black curly hair and purple eyes, always asking where that colouring came from, as the rest of the family were all redheads with pale skins and light blue eyes. He laughed and called me black Irish and I knew it was not a compliment. He also made it clear that he missed Nell and was a bit put out that I was now in her bedroom, suggesting that I was a poor substitute for his sister.
Among her other virtues, Nell was a good cook and I knew that although my mother had taught me well, I could not hope to compete.
Will also referred to the troubles I had caused at home, demanding to go to school in town. I knew I had to speak up for myself so rather smartly told him that my Pa wanted me to go to school just like Bertha and Nell and Will himself, and my eyes were violet, not purple. He grinned at my sass and bluntly reminded me that it was my job to get the evening tea on the table in time. Then he left me in the room and clumped down the stairs. I could hear him laughing at me and wanted to just fall on the bed and stay there. But I straightened my shoulders, brushed the dust off my traveling dress and marched down the stairs.
Will also referred to the troubles I had caused at home, demanding to go to school in town. I knew I had to speak up for myself so rather smartly told him that my Pa wanted me to go to school just like Bertha and Nell and Will himself, and my eyes were violet, not purple. He grinned at my sass and bluntly reminded me that it was my job to get the evening tea on the table in time. Then he left me in the room and clumped down the stairs. I could hear him laughing at me and wanted to just fall on the bed and stay there. But I straightened my shoulders, brushed the dust off my traveling dress and marched down the stairs.
When I reached the foot of the stairs, I ignored Will’s smirks and announced to Uncle John that his tea would be ready in no time. In my head, I could hear the voice of my Grandmother Ryan, black Irish herself, telling me to begin as I intended to go on, so I did.
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