It's stifling

„Are you resting again? You lazy sods, get up and go back to work!“ The screeching voice jolted the two brothers from their dozing under the shade of the oak tree

“You know, sometimes I wish she'd just collapse and die. It's flamin' hot and I'm gonna get a heat stroke if'n I can't take an occasional rest. The heat is stifling.” The younger brother wiped his brow with the sleeve of his dirty shirt. It cleared the skin of his forehead from the grime and dust that had settled there. The older brother grinned and took a last swig from the beer bottle.

“Yea, I sometimes wonder why I don't just go off and work in one of them smelting works. Can't be worse than here.”

“You know quite well, why you ain't goin'. She would't let you.”

“Hey, I ain't no slave! She don't own me!” the older brother blustered. The younger brother gave him a sly grin. The older scowled and took another swig from the beer bottle, realised it was empty and swore under his breath. He chucked the empty bottle angrily onto a heap of other discarded bottles where it shattered with a satisfyingly loud jangle. He looked over across the dusty expanse of the field to the house. In the shade of the porch their mother was washing the windows.

“Don't know why she bothers. With the next dust devil they're gonna be as dirty as before. Work, work, work. If she ain't workin' she ain't happy.”

“Yeah. If she only didn't expect the same from everybody around her! She's one tough old boot. Guess she wouldn't complain about the sun.”

The older brother frowned. “She can't live forever. Once she's gone I won't kill myself any longer with working.” He sighed at the prospect of a leisurely life.

They looked at their mother, still spry at seventy, still controlling her sons with a firm hand.

“She ain't gonna kick the bucket any time soon, that's for sure.” The younger brother sounded resigned to the thought of a continued life of servitude, as he considered it.

“Well, I don't know. Hasn't she been complaining about pains in the chest lately?” The older brother said thoughtfully.

“Momma? She never. Ain't one to complain about any little bit.”

“No, no. You're wrong. I'm quite sure. She told me so.”

“Told you? She'd never tell you nothing like that.”

The older brother looked at his sibling.”You know that and I know that. But who else would? I mean, she's seventy-three. Ain't unusual for people to just drop, even quite healthy people.”

The younger brother's eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you talking about? Are you suggesting we … help her along?”

“Well, it wouldn't be that difficult, would it? One of these days she's going to take her afternoon nap and just don't wake up any more. And a pillow don't leave no traces.”

The younger brother gave a nervous laugh. “You're joking, aren't you?” They looked at one another Around them the cicadas went on buzzing and the sun burned the soil a little more into cinders. The older brother's eyebrow rose quizzically.

“Am I?”

The younger brother's mouth curved into the faintest of smiles.

“Let's go back to work.”