The Sky Cried For Him

20250807

Written for the "Kev's Odyssey" series.

Maeve paused, bucket dangling forgotten from her fingers as she looked around the field, and said “Wait, where’s Bengy?”
Cyrus looked up from his fieldwork and called “Holly was teasing him again-”
“I wasn’t!” Holly scoffed.
“-and he got upset and then she started making fun-”
“No I didn’t!!”
“-and I told her to stop but she wouldn’t listen and Ben ran into the woods because Holly said the heavy rain’s bad for the seedlings-”
“Well, it is!”
“Ugh! You, you…!” Maeve hurled her bucket of water at Holly, ignoring the errant girl’s squeal of protest, and ran back into the house.
Not like watering was necessary now; dark clouds were already forming overhead.
Thankfully the family kept rain gear in the entryway year-round, so tugging clogs onto her dirty bare feet and grabbing a rain-cape was the work of moments.
Maeve hurried back out across the field towards where the clouds were swirling.
“You meanie!” Holly spluttered, stomping her feet. “I’ll tell Auntie Wilma-”
“GO SUCK A PIG TURD!” Maeve defiantly shouted back. Entirely out of patience with her cousin’s nasty games.
Cyrus whooped approval behind her as she stormed into the forest.
When Bengy was upset, finding him was easy; just keep your face to the wailing wind. Which did make staying dry tricky once the rain started. Heavy drops were already pounding the canopy and dimpling the ground. Maeve pulled the hood of the rain-cape as low as she could without blocking her vision and resigned herself to getting sodden.
Such was the burden of being a big sister.
Aha, there he was - slumped at the base of a gnarled old willow tree, head in hands. Quivering with the emotions which roiled and roared overhead.
Maeve was sure it’d be so much easier for poor Bengy if he could only cry. But he’d never been able to shed tears. Since the day he was born, the sky cried for him.
She knelt next to him without preamble and pulled him into a hug. Wrapping them both tight in the rain-cape. “It’s alright, Bengy. I’ve got you.”
Ben returned the hug with fervour, his chilled arms making her shiver. He never did notice being cold, not until it was too late. The opposite of Cyrus, who felt chill long before anyone else.
But then, that was always the way with twins, wasn’t it?
“‘m s-sorry.” Bengy hiccupped into her shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry for someone being mean to you.”
“Sorry for… for getting upset.”
“Of course you got upset. Don’t be sorry for that. That’s like… like being sorry for getting muddy, when someone pushed you in a puddle.”
Bengy gave an uncertain but obedient mumble.
For a while they were both silent. Maeve gently rocking side-to-side, Bengy clutching her close and listening to her breathing and heartbeat.
Then he whispered “I wish I was the fire twin.”
“Yeah?” Maeve mused, her tone light and conversational. “Funny. Cyrus says the same about being the water twin.”
“Eh??” Bengy leant back enough to squint at her face. Aghast. “Why?”
“Because nobody’s scared of you. Every time he got angry, or sad, or most any big feeling at all, people got worried. They didn’t worry about you.” Maeve planted a tender kiss on Ben’s cold little nose. “And only mum and dad were every worried for Cyrus and you.”
She tugged him close once more, tucking his head under her chin. “They feel really bad, you know. About letting the elder drill Cyrus on ‘managing his feelings’. ‘Cause now he barely seems to feel anything. They’re glad it didn’t happen to you. But… I do think we need to figure something out. Running into the woods to cry alone isn’t nice, is it?”
“Mm.” Bengy shook his head and squeezed her tight.
“So next time you’re upset - by Holly or anything else - come find me, ok? And we’ll try stuff. Until we find how to help you… how to hold the feelings, without them biting your fingers.”
“Like the snip-fishies?”
“Yeah.” Maeve smiled into his damp hair. “Feelings are like snip-fishies. You just have to hold them carefully until they calm down.”
“Kay.”
Maeve closed her eyes and listened to the rain pattering overhead. Already far lighter. A hug always helped. Someone listening always helped.
There’d be other stuff that helped. Ways to hold the feelings, and ways to let them leak gently. A way to cry without tears. Maybe stomping, or singing. She’d talk to mum and dad, see what ideas they had.
And… they’d talk to Cyrus too. He said that using the fire helped him ‘stay focused’ and ‘keep balanced’, but she wasn’t sure that was enough. Focused and balanced didn’t mean happy.
“Ready to walk back?”
“Yeah. Kay.”
So Maeve took his hands and helped him to his feet, then kept one hand as they set off for home.
“W-will the seedlings-”
“The seedlings will be fine. That’s why dad and uncle digs all the gravel in.”
“Mkay.”
Maeve squeezed his hand and shot him a reassuring smile. “And hey, since you did the watering for me, guess I should do the hoeing for you, huh?”
“I’ll help.”
“Aw, you’re the best brother.”
Bengy grinned, but loyally protested “What about Cyrus?”
“He’s also the best brother. Joint first is a thing.”
“Oh. Ok.” Bengy’s steps lightened, returning to his usual not-quite-skipping cadence.
Hm. What skin she could see on his muddy feet was purple; best to make sure he dried off and warmed up once they got back. Cyrus would no doubt be all over that.
Nobody ever went cold with Cyrus around. Not even in the depths of winter. And thanks to Bengy the river and well didn’t dry up no matter how baking the summer got.
How could anybody be scared of them, or resent them? They really were the best brothers. The best brothers ever.
If Holly and the others didn’t learn, well… Maeve would find something worse than pig turds for them.

Prompt was “Storm”.