The Able Sisters

Chapter 4

Label had been the most impacted by her parents' deaths. Suddenly a responsibility had been thrown on her that she had never expected to take on a life, and her aspiring dreams to move the city grew dimmer and dimmer as the days passed on.

The hot summer days had come to an end, and autumn had arrived. The trees had begun changing color, turning from bright green to shades of red, yellow, and orange. The air had become cold again, and the wind began to howl more loudly as it rushed against the closed tailor shop.

Label did her best to cook the meals for her sisters and to gather what she could. But the thought of handling fish was disgusting, picking fruit from trees brought stares from the neighbors, and handling a dirty shovel was the last thing she wanted to do. It was much easier to curl up on the couch and design, just like she'd always done, as if nothing had changed.

Label hated feeling needy. She hated the pitied glances neighbors would give her and the various visitors they'd get, offering their condolences and offering assistance, as if there was anything they could do. Their parents were gone. There was no one and certainly no action that could replace them.

Label was in charge of rent, she cleaned when she could, and sometimes she took goods to be sold, but Sable had been the one to really take over. It was Sable who was the first one to stop crying. Sable was the first to rest her hand on her sister's shoulder and offer comfort. It was Sable who had even told Mabel.

Before Label even realized what was happening, Sable had taken over the household, even if she was a few years younger. She took over the daily tasks of her parents and in the meantime nagged Label about what she was or wasn't doing.

Label wanted to help, she truly did, but her sister's constant comments only made her furious, and some days, she'd leave her chores aside and retreat into her parents' bedroom to work, hoping to catch their scent on the covers or anxiously awaiting their nonexistent return.

What hurt the most was Mabel's attachment to Sable. Mabel had always favored both sisters, and Label enjoyed spending time with her. She wasn't old enough to have her own opinions or to grasp the reality of the real world. Her dreams were still within reach while Label's seemed to float away with each passing day.

But Mabel had grown increasingly attached to Sable and followed her everywhere she went, leaving Label alone once again.

A gentle rain came down one morning. Label had risen early and sat on the couch, sketching new designs like she always did. Though this particular morning she had hit a block and could not think of a single thing to draw. This frustrated her more than anything else. It had never been hard to design before, so why now?

"Morning," Sable grumbled as she walked into the kitchen, retrieving a glass of water.

"Morning," Label replied quietly, glancing outside. The weather seemed so peaceful. It was hard to believe that only a bit more rain had been the ultimate cause of their parents' deaths.

"What are you going to do today?" Sable asked.

Label shrugged. "Draw, I guess."

"Can't you do something productive?" Sable wondered.

"I am being productive! I'm fulfilling my dream," Label huffed, turning away from Sable.

"But we need some help selling things and gathering and making trips to the store," Sable continued. "You can't just sit around on a couch all day and do nothing."

"It's raining!" Label complained.

"Get an umbrella then," Sable argued.

"What? So I can slip in the mud while I attempt to pick gross fruit from trees. If I have to eat another apple I'm going to throw up!" Label began spewing words without comprehending them. She was frustrated. They all were, but Sable was better at handling it than her. She always had been more calm and ready to deal with issues.

Label remembered how her mother would calmly speak to her and help her whenever she faced a particularly challenging issue. Her mother had always been there to hear Label out, to understand where she was coming from, but now she was gone, and Sable could not replace their mother.

"You need to do something," was all Sable muttered.

"Why are you yelling?" Mabel asked from the doorway of her bedroom.

"It's nothing. Want some breakfast?" Sable quickly replied.

Label shot her sister a glance, as if keeping Mabel from conflict would do well for her. She wasn't even sure if her toddler sister understood the death herself. Sometimes she'd still ask when their parents were returning, which only brought tears to Label's eyes.

"Fine. I'll go," Label said, throwing her sketchbook down on the couch. It wasn't like she was being productive anyway.

She slipped on her rain boots and grabbed an umbrella. With each step she took down to the bottom of the building, she let out a huff of anger.

She threw the door open from the entrance of the shop and locked it behind her. The rain was still light and gentle, almost calming somehow. She trudged over the brown grass as she listened to the rain drip beside her.

The rest of the villagers remained in their houses, enjoying the rainy day from the comfort of their warm homes. Label envied them.

She marched past the fruit trees and the river until she came to Town Hall. Grass was replaced by concrete, and a streetlamp lit up the area. She quickly approached the door and stepped inside, glad to be free from the cold rain.

She closed her umbrella and looked ahead. Pelly, the post office worker, glanced up at Label's arrival.

"Oh, Label, you're back," she said.

"Is Mayor Tortimer here?" Label wondered, glancing behind the white pelican.

"He's in his office. I can see if he's available though," Pelly explained.

"That'd be great, thanks," Label replied. Pelly vanished, leaving Label to glance around town hall and listen to the monotone ticking of the clock. Her visits had been frequent, but none had turned out as she'd expected.

"He says he'll see you," Pelly spoke as she returned, letting Label through.

Label found her way to the office where Mayor Tortimer sat, glancing at assorted papers. He glanced up as Label walked in, and she immediately took a seat.

"Label, back again, I see. What can I do for you?" he asked, adjusting his small, black glasses.

"Have you heard anything else about organizations that could help us?" Label asked.

Tortimer shook his head. "Afraid not. This is a small village. We are not as privileged as those who live in the city or bigger towns. How are you doing?"

Label shook her head. "It's been awful. I hate being like this. I hate seeing my sisters like this. We can't go around scavenging all day."

"Label, you have come many times since the unfortunate passing of your parents. I have done my best to assist you. I've sent neighbors your way, helped you out in my own way, and so forth, but I cannot do as much as you ask," Tortimer explained. "This is a very difficult time, and I understand that. I wish I could help you in a greater way, but I've done all I can."

Label glanced down, hoping to hide her tears.

"I just want life to be normal again," she muttered.

Tortimer sighed. "Have you thought of reopening the shop?"

Label shook her head. "Sable and I haven't sewed in months, and we're not nearly as skilled as our parents. My passion is fashion design anyway, something city related."

"Maybe you should look into that," Tortimer said, rising from his desk. "As I said, I'll let you know if I hear anything else, but don't be afraid to reach out to some more colleagues."

"I just want the best for my family," Label explained.

The old tortoise dipped his head. "I understand. I wish you the best of luck."

Label nodded and dipped out of his office and quickly out of town hall, shading her tears with the large umbrella she held in her hand. Her sisters knew nothing of her visits to Tortimer or her plea for outside help. She wasn't sure why she hadn't told them, most likely because she was embarrassed.

It was even more embarrassing, however, to leave once again with nothing that could aid them.