Despite keeping track of time and returning to the compound within two hours, timing his return an hour before Ma was done with her patients, Alexander still got an earful later in the evening.
Seated on his bed of hay, Ma, with Barth behind her, knelt beside him and began her scolding.
"I didn't go too far, just followed some kids and strolled around the fence."
"You went outside the fence?" Ma's face scrunched.
"Do you know how dangerous that is?"
"I tagged behind some kids," Alexander repeated, thinking the old woman might have missed that part, but she hadn't.
"Following some kids doesn't mean you're safe. What do you think would have happened if you suddenly collapsed? What if a wild animal attacked? They can run. Can you?"
Alexander wanted to rebuff the second point, but Ma brought her palms to his chest and pressed.
Feeling the pressure, Alexander immediately understood what the old woman was trying to do. He was just about to feel confident in his current strength, but that confidence died as even with the help of his hands, he was pushed back until his back touched the bed.
Alexander's expression remained calm, but his questioning eyes turned to Ma.
"Am I not recovering?"
"You are, but your bones remain weak," Ma said, bringing her palms to his arms and, with her eyes closed, began squeezing.
Alexander didn't understand how such simple actions could allow her to diagnose him, but she had proven her point before, and he could only listen.
"It's always been like this with you or your body, at least. Your illness makes you weak, your bones are severely affected, and though you recover as the weeks pass, halfway through, you fall ill again. With the cycle you've become stuck in, the quality of your bones has degraded over time. Each time you wake up, you are weaker than the last."
"It's a grim reality," Barth said dryly.
"It's a grim reality, and yet you let him wander out of the compound?" Ma snapped, sending her stick flying with the intent to smack her husband's feet, but the man jumped over it.
With his skinny legs, Barth turned to his wife, retreating from her and looking appalled.
"That could have crippled me!"
"Well, I've always wanted you to stay at home more often."
"It's those prayers, isn't it? They've started messing with your head," the aggravated man muttered, but this only served to worsen his wife's mood.
Adjusting her grip so she held her stick by its end, increasing her reach, she swung it at Barth with frustration on her face. The old man skipped to the side, avoiding it with a grin.
"These bones still kickin', honey."
Ma's face tightened even more at Barth's words, and she was just about to rise to her feet and go after the man when the only young voice in the room spoke up.
"Will I get better?"
Reminded of what she had been doing, Ma turned back to Alexander and nodded her head.
"Of course. Your bones will strengthen with time. The problem, though, is whether you'll live long enough for them to fully heal."
"I see," Alexander muttered.
"Don't think too much about it, boy. Just give it time, and soon you'll be running with the bulls."
Barth meant well with his words, but they were a bit over the top. Lying down, Alexander silently watched as the old lady, helped by her husband, rose from her knees and then proceeded to try whacking that same man again with her stick.
Taking some pleasure in their antics, thoughts of the strange writings he had last seen on the scroll escaped his mind, for the time being, at least.
As punishment for leaving the house on his own and apparently risking his life, Alexander was told to stay in the compound for three days straight, but on the third day, Barth snuck him out.
Two days ago, Barth had talked about Alexander "running with bulls," and now he was taking him to go watch others do it. Apparently, it hadn't just been a metaphor.
Where Barth led him was a fenced field located outside the village, just by its entrance.
The land within the fence was covered with green grass, and around the outside of the fence were several people, men, women, and children, leaning against the wooden rails and watching the spectacle of children running with bulls.
The word "bulls" was a bit of an exaggeration since the animals were just calves, but still, the kids in the fence were all below ten, and the scenes inside were either of a child running from a calf or a calf running from a child.
The latter was rare, but when it happened, instead of laughter, roars and cheers rang out from the people surrounding the fence.
"What's the point of this game again?" Alexander asked dully, scratching his head.
He had some memory of the event in front of him, but couldn't quite put a finger on why the villagers had their children engage in such a risky activity.
"It strengthens their bodies and keeps their minds sharp. Here in this controlled environment, they can better prepare for the dangers over the mountains. Hunting is very dangerous."
The community in Beckle was a tight-knit and secluded one. They produced most of what they needed, and for what they couldn't make, they bartered with meat they caught in the wild.
Other than the kids who were experiencing the fenced field for the first time, most of the children bravely led the calves around, some running after them and some even trying to wrestle with them.
"I thought you were just bored at home, but it seems there's more to it. What's bothering you?"
Though quite old, it was surprising how observant Barth could be.
Within, Alexander sighed because truly, he wasn't at peace. It had to do with the nightmares he'd been having ever since he went up the hill.