Henry's house

Brother Henry rules his roost and why not he has run a mini empire consisting of a pub and hotel for forty years and it came so naturally to him when he assigned me the task of chopping kindling wood for the numerous fireplaces around the hotel and bars which depended on wood heat for warmth .He handed out such orders without a hint that there would be any dissent and in fact he would leave rather quickly in order to lessen the chance for any objection .It was just like the old days except now I was 62 and and Henry was 71 but still I felt like the kid brother of long ago when I was 12 and he was 21 .So I dutifully headed off for the wood shed and started chopping sticks from a pile of carpenters waste and then my other brother John showed up and proceeded to load a wheel barrow with logs of compressed saw dust which was the prime burning fuel for the fireplaces .John is the eldest but does not want to admit it and thus attacks any physical task with a kind of gusto that belies his age of 72 .Meanwhile I finished the kindling and helped John fill up another barrow with logs but before I could lift the barrow myself John muscled in front of me and took off toward the house which was Henry's residence close by the pub.Not knowing what to do next I followed John up the path to Yew Tree Cottage and then John noticed that I was behind him and dropping the barrow he turned to me and angrily shouted 'where the hell are you going'. I was completely taken aback and could not muster a reply and feeling even more like a child I turned back towards the pub wondering what was wrong .