On his way home Reeve Kenneth was so absorbed in the memory of his granddaughter's eyes, he did not realize right away that he was not alone.
"Oh Ree-eeve" a female voice sing-songed.
Kenneth turned, startled.
"Come on back to the brothel Reeve. I can give ye what ye want."
"I didn't come to the brothel fer that...what is your name?"
"Naomi," she breathed. "Naomi Longfellow."
"Longfellow...your father must have been a tall man."
She laughed, good and hard.
"I'm sorry, is he not a long fellow?"
He was rather appalled at the disrespect she had for her father. Even if the man was as short as a child his own daughter ought not to laugh about it.
"Was."
"Was?"
"Yeah, he is long in the grave. Don't know much about him, but one thing I've always been told is that he was indeed a long fellow, a very long fellow."
She took to laughing again, harder than before.
"I fail to understand why ye find a tall man...funny."
"It's not that," she choked out, still laughing, "he weren't a tall man. It wasn't that he was a long fellow. He had a long fellow."
Oh my. She can't mean..
She took a look at his face, fell to the ground and sat there, still laughing.
Hmm....I doubt her mother found that quite so funny. Lucky man...not that I'm small...
Kenneth turned away, meaning to leave her there to laugh herself silly. She caught his ankle with her hand. He turned, falling directly atop Naomi. She wasn't laughing now; neither was he.
"There," she purred, "ain't that better?"
"No, it is not. How dare you?"
The old man reached for ground to push himself off the woman.
A wicked look crossed Naomi's face. She reached behind him and squeezed his bottom hard.
"That is it!"
"Oh yes, it is."
"I'm taking you in."
"It's about time."
"Come along then."
Kenneth stood there but Naomi still lay upon the ground. He wasn't putting up with it. He may be an old man, but a peasant man's work makes him strong. He scooped her up in his arms. It was easier than he thought it would be. She was most complacent until he dumped her most unceremoniously on his barn stall floor.
"I'm locking you up for lewd unsolicited behavior in a public place."
"Wh-what does that mean?"
Kenneth's thoughts flashed to Winifred Sanders, his long dead friend who had taught him such long words.
"A lady ought to keep her hands to herself in public when a man ain't in the mood."
It was a horribly rough interpretation, but one he thought she'd better understand.
"But I ain't a lady! Those rules ain't fer me, are they?"
"Bein' a peasant ain't no reason ter act like ye did. If I had wanted all that I'd have sought it at the brothel."
"I don't ken. Why were ye at the brothel then?"
"To see the little girl Willow."
Her head snapped up then.
"Ye sick bastard! She's only a little girl!"
Kenneth reacted just as quickly and with no more thought.
"How could ye do it Reeve? She's jest a baby."
"I would never, ever do anything like that to a child."
Kenneth left her there, her vulgar words still turning his stomach.
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