Peter and Mara

Another failed hunt.  And that meant no food for the family.  He wondered how Mara had fared, and secretly hoped he hadn’t done any better.  He didn’t have to wait long, he could hear Mara’s feeble cough long before he ever saw him.  With that troubled breathing Peter was confident there was little chance Mara had caught anything.

Their father came running when he heard the coughing.  He dropped one of his grandchildren, dropped everything to tend to his precious Mara.  Peter clenched his jaws as he swallowed his pride – again.  One of his older siblings picked up the grandchild father had deserted and shared a knowing glance with Peter.  They didn’t need to say anything, they’d said it all before and nothing ever changed.  Nothing was more important to father than Mara.

Peter shifted his stance in an attempt to watch.  Mara dropped his pack from his shoulder and handed it to father as he leaned on him through another coughing fit.  Father steadied him and comforted him as the coughing subsided.  Then he reached into Mara’s pack and pulled out several prairie rabbits – just enough for father, mother and himself.  Peter chuckled, cursed and then chided himself for being surprised.  He couldn’t count how many times that had happened before.

Father turned to look around and the older children scattered, avoiding contact and scooping up children and chores to attend to.  Before Peter figured it out, father motioned him over.  “Quickly,” he hissed as Peter lumbered towards them.  “Take these to your mother.”  He handed the rabbits to Peter as more coughs wracked Mara’s frame.

Peter bit his tongue before criticizing Mara’s obvious attempts to win father’s favor.  He was too easy a target right now, and couldn’t even defend himself.  Leaning in for a closer look, he was sure Mara was somehow faking it.  Realizing he’d taken too long to follow father’s orders, he turned and started to hurry away, but stopped when he heard Mara’s feeble voice hacking through his coughs.

“Wait,” Mara croaked.  “These are for you and your family.”  He pulled two bags from his belt and handed them to Peter.  “It isn’t much,” he couldn’t finish through more coughs.

Peter couldn’t believe it.  Of course father didn’t have any idea what was going through his mind.  He doubted if even Mara knew how much he hated him.  Peter just smiled and accepted the offering.  His wife had doubted he would bring anything home for them; game had been so scarce lately.  Peter knew he’d enjoy watching her apologize for her taunting earlier that day.  She didn’t need to know the food was coming from Mara.

WRITTEN AS A RESULT OF A WRITING PROMPT:

3 AM EPIPHANY:  #105 REVISIONIST HISTORY

INSPIRED BY CAIN AND ABEL

(AKA PETER AND MARA)