Gang of Helpers
“Can I talk to you?”
The Fisherboy stopped in his tracks, startled. They always seemed to be startled when any of us Dwarf boys addressed them. I think he would have been more comfortable if I had said, ‘Hey you!’
“What’s up?”
The Fisherboy was probably only seven years old, but was already much taller than me, and, for all I knew, already considering mating. He had stopped, and was looking down at me (and not just literally). A gang was forming around us.
“I would like to go swimming tomorrow.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “You don’t need my permission.”
“No, but I do need your help.”
At this, he looked much more interested.
“How so? Need help getting those clothes off?”
Fisherboys wore almost nothing, and so he probably did wonder how I could get all of my many layers of clothes off. I was covered head to toe, with even a hat on. Truth be told, even if I started with the first of the men I would probably still be stripping off when the last of the Elves had undressed.
“No, I can manage that on my own. But I can’t swim. I was wondering if you and some of your friends would mind helping me learn, and help keep me from sinking to the bottom of the ocean while I learn.”
Grins broke out all around.
“Sure.” He stuck out his hand, “My name’s Seamus. Me and my friends here would love to help you. We always wondered why none of you Dwarves joined us. Didn’t realize you couldn’t swim. We’re all first crop, and we hate to see any of the races left out.”
“Heinrich,” I said, “First crop? What’s that?”
“Why, don’t you all have first croppers? I thought everyone had them.”
I was confused, “Well, we do have some children we call ‘first crop.’ They are children born after The Day, the first of the new children since everyone got pregnant.”
I was a little uncomfortable talking like this. Dwarves, particularly young Dwarf boys, were not encouraged to talk about things like pregnancy, or anything surrounding it. I knew theoretically that Fisherboys had no such rules. Indeed, I had heard some conversations that had made me blush from both Fisherboys and Farm lads.
“In fact, I have a young Brother we call ‘Erste’ because he is first crop.”
Seamus grinned. “I’ll have to meet him. He can join our gang. But that’s what we mean too--we are all first croppers.”
I was appalled. As often as I thought I had this business of the races understood, something would go and throw everything into kilter. This boy, who looked like a Farmer boy at eight or a Dwarf boy at fifteen, was in fact only five years old!
“Oh, OK,” I managed to stammer out.
“We’ve got to go now; see you after lunch!” Seamus said, and he and his gang raced off.
I bemusedly thought to myself that he would probably want to meet my “older” Brother (the first cropper) then. I wondered what he would say when I introduced him to a toddler.
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Von
Links
Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends.
The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.