Welcome Back to Curdle Creek

Well, hello there. I hope you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble. If you’d been causing too much of a fuss, you know, dropping in on neighbours unannounced, asking for a second cup of tea without finishing the first, salting food before tasting it—just being a general nuisance—I’m sure I’d of heard about it before now. You sure would have.

That’s one thing about Creekers. Nothing goes unsaid. So if you’ve offended anyone accidentally or on purpose, you’ll hear about it.

Speaking of which, you haven’t seen my Moses, have you? He’s about this tall. Quick to smile—even when there’s nothing to smile about. That can be sort of sweet. In doses. But too much of all that niceness has a way of making folks wonder what he knows that they don’t. That gets them to wondering just how good he is at keeping secrets and of course, that reminds them of the children and what he knows that he ain’t telling. All that smiling makes folks that don’t know him wonder what he’s done. It makes me wonder what he’s about to do and who he’s planning to tell about it.

Ask him? What kind of unasked for advice is that? I can’t just ask him. There’s an ordinance against that and if I’m honest, things ain’t been the same between us with the children gone. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t try to get me nominated for the moving on this year. I’d be worried if I wasn’t a better ringer than him. Always have been. Even when we were kids. If anything saves me, it’ll be that. My Moses has always been a middling ringer.

Thank heavens he isn’t a weak ringer though. I can take all the smiling and grinning but Mother knows I couldn’t abide weak ringing. He’s not an overzealous one either. Nobody needs that sort of showing off sun up to sun gone. My Moses is just in between. Loud enough to get my attention. Gentle enough not to offend. I on the other hand, ring my bell like its meant to be rung. No sense ringing it in a whisper. I ring my bell to be heard. A shy bell don’t never get rung. Least, not twice.

There was a time I’d be on the line ringing thanks with the best of them. Bell echoing louder and farther than anyone else’s. Not that it’s a competition but even out ringing Mae. Course, she didn’t try as hard as me. Ringing comes natural to her. I practice. It’s worth it. You can tell a lot about a person by their bell ringing. What could you tell about me? That I’m reliable, honest, predictable, fierce. A true Curdle Creeker—at least until the children went away.

Well, I’m gonna go look for my Moses. Knowing him, he’s down by the well tossing in secrets like the superstitious Creeker he is. Folks say wells are good places to keep secrets. Unless a well walker gets a hold of them in which case your secret is just as good as told. You heard me right, a well walker. Imagine believing in well walkers in this day and age.

You never heard about well walkers either? Well, you’re in for a treat. Next time I see you, I’ll tell you what I heard. Not that I believe in them.

I gotta go catch up with my Moses. If you see him before I do, tell him Osira’s looking for him. Wait, don’t tell him that. You won’t never find him that way. If you see him, don’t tell him nothing at all. I’ll do the talking. I don’t want no more secrets between us. I’ll tell him the truth. I’m glad the children got away from this place and if it wasn’t for Mother, I’d have left too.