The Seary Line Read Online Free PDF Page B

she dreaded the moment when the plunger would stick, the cream already transformed. Sometimes Miss Hood would have to pry the handle from Miriam’s hands, saying, “My goodness, child. You’re all flushed. Quite the job, this is.” And Miriam would pant, “Uh-huh.”
    Miriam liked to stay very close to home, but as she got older, Miss Hood encouraged her to run errands. Once, when Miss Hood sent her to the general store for molasses and flour, Miriam was stopped; a group of young men blocked the door. They were the three Billys: Billy Targate, Billy Gosse, and Billy Keilly. Neither Miriam nor Miss Hood knew much about the three Billys, though around the cove they were often referred to as “bloody rabble-rousers” or “the agitators.”
    â€œMy, aren’t you a pretty little girl,” one snickered.
    â€œLittle girl?” howled another.
    â€œShe looks right like a proper lady to me.”
    â€œLovely, grand,” said the third after a low shrill whistle.
    â€œNow, fellers,” the storeowner cautioned. “Leave the Seary girl alone. And get on about your day. This is a business, not a hang-out.”
    A curious pride sprang up inside Miriam. She was scraping the five-foot mark, and as she passed through the cluster of men, one holding open the door, she tried her best to straighten out her hump. After that, she was eager to run errands, and Miss Hood began to joke, saying Miriam was doing fine after all with three handsomegentlemen suitors at her beck and call.
    They were always there. At the general store. Sometimes, as she passed amongst them, they would poke her in the chest, run a hand or two down over her rump, but it was only in fun. They were always smirking and Miriam liked that. Liked that a lot.
    One summery afternoon, they asked her if she would like to go for a walk. Even though Miriam had heard of this before, remembered when her cousin Sally went for Sunday walks with a brown-haired boy, she was still unprepared for the thrill that rushed in. They led her through a thicket of leafy dogwood trees and out into the middle of an overgrown field of wild grass. The Billys crouched down and patted a flattened area for Miriam.
    â€œWe idn’t going grassing, is we?” Miriam asked. She understood from overhearing conversations between her cousin and aunt that strolling was fine, but grassing was naughty.
    Bursts of laughter erupted from the three Billys, they smacked their legs.
    â€œChrist, she’s a card,” they said amongst themselves. “Grassing. Is we going grassing, she asks. She idn’t blunt, is she?”
    Miriam watched the spectacle. It was the first time she recalled being so funny, and so she sang through her crooked smile, “A grassin’ we will go, a grassin’ we will go. Hi ho the dairy oh, a grassin’ we will go.”
    More laughter, and Billy Targate rolled backwards onto the knobby ground, his watery eyes almost crossed.
    Billy Gosse wiped his face and cleared his throat. More serious now, focused in on Miriam. “What do you like to do, missus? You knows, to have a bit of fun.”
    She paused, stuck her tongue out onto her bottomlip. “I loves butter,” she said, and then blushed. “Milking the old girls. Churning up the cream. Churning.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Nodding.
    â€œSometimes when I’s helping Miss Hood, I gets it on my hands, and I licks my fingers.”
    â€œShe likes licking, fellers,” Billy Keilly said, but Billy Gosse swatted him on the back of his head, said to Miriam, “Churning, hey?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    Billy Gosse chewed skin from the cuticle on his thumb, spat the fleck over his shoulder, and eyed the blood that flooded his nail bed. “Might you want to try a different way to churn now, missus?”
    â€œUmm.”
    â€œA real special way?”
    â€œUmm. All right?”
    â€œThe best butter in the world is when a feller