Carrying Wives

  The challenge from Carrot Ranch this week is to write a story about a carried wife, in 99 words, no more, no less. (Something to do with the Finnish history up there in Charli’s Copper Country.)

I relied on New England history to meet this challenge. All along the Massachusetts coast, Cape, and islands, place names reveal the historical importance of alewives, or river herring. The first 99 is the voice of Squanto, returned from an earlier prompt.

I also relied on Marge for a response and for a third brought back Fannie Hooe  from a past Ranch challenge.

Carrying On

Those first springs the bony fish were welcome food and they ate them gratefully. They used them to feed the hills of corn as I showed them to do.

Then, we all went to the rivers in the spring, carried full baskets of alewives to our families, our fields. They saw how it was, and early on these ones that came to Patuxet did not allow blocking the rivers as some English would do.

More ships came, carrying seeds, cattle, and swine. They soon forgot how the alewives carried them. The course of our streams are altered and muddied.

***

Missed Fit

“What do you mean, that bruise on your cheek is from Ernest?”
“Relax, Ilene, he was just messing around, said we should train for our wedding night. He tried to carry me into the bedroom but didn’t turn enough. Banged my ankle on the other side of the doorway.”
“Jeezus, Marge.”
“Oh, it gets worse. He dropped me when his back gave out. He couldn’t move.”
“Shit. What’d you do?”
“What do you think? I got myself up then I picked Ernest up and carried him into the bedroom. And there he lies, helpless.”
“That’s a helluva preview Marge.”

***

Fair Game

“Okay, Great Aunt Fannie, here we are at Heikinpäivä. Is your interest in the Wife Carrying contest because you were carried off?”
“Horse pucks! That’s what they say. I wasn’t ever carried off. Have always stood my ground. I’ve been known to get carried away a time or two, but that’s another story.”
“What do you think of this wife carrying contest?”
“Once a year, what the hell? I see it as a symbolic gesture of reciprocation.”
“What do you mean, Aunt Fannie?”
“Women-folk carry their men all year long. Without making a sporting event about all they bear.”

***