It appears to be a lovely spring morning here in MO, cloudy, but no rain yet. We've had the windows open all night and it is supposed to get into the upper 70s today.:) Our flowers are blooming, the trees are beginning to show buds, the lilac has tiny green leaves all over it and the birds are singing everywhere. Tomorrow is the full Worm moon and it is supposed to be a super moon as well. That means it will be the closest to the earth it has been for 18 years. I wonder what the tides will be like? Not that we have any around here to go check on, mind you.
I have done some writing this week. On Sunday I had four friends give me instructions for four more stories to write. They sounded like fun so I thought I should get to work on some other ones. I got one story written as well as finished one more Western, got two other parts of it part way done and finished another part of another story that hasn't been posted on here at all. I've written it for Scribblers. One of these days I might let the rest of you read it.:)
This story was rather interesting to write since I couldn't figure out what was going to happen when I started. The instructions were a little difficult for this picture, But, I wrote something.
Characters: 3 main and up to 10 minor
Length: at least 4 pages (it goes to 5)
Special Instructions: Mysterious, Happens on 4th of July
(What would you have written for this picture?)Mysterious Words
by
Rebekah M.
Rebekah M.
The sound of footsteps approaching down the sandy beach disturbed the peacefulness of the July afternoon. They came along quickly, not as one taking a leisurely stroll, but with purpose and intent, moving with the lightness which a child or young person would have when full of excitement, eagerly tripping along with a skip or jump now and then.
Then came a sudden squeal, a gasp and a thump followed immediately by a mysterious silence. Only the swish of the water washing up the beach and lapping against the rocks disturbed the deathlike stillness which pervaded the southern island. That was all, yet somehow something was different. The palm trees whispered about it with the vines which seemed to grow everywhere. The pebbles murmured about it to each wave which washed them back and forth. Even the clouds gathered in clusters across the sky breathing the news to additional clouds that joined them. And so, for several years they whispered, murmured and breathed about it as they waited to see what would happen.
The sky was blue; the kind of deep blue that makes you feel as though you were looking into a fathomless well trying to catch a glimpse of the bottom and yet not able to. The southern sky was full of clouds piled up on each other until at the top they lay floating about much as though they were feathers coming out of a feather bed. As the sun began its descent from the middle of the sky, the sands along the edge of the dense mass of vegetation spoke of intense heat while the waters washing up looked invitingly cool this hot Independence Day. A breeze was stirring the tops of the palm trees. It was a glorious day!
Twenty-one-year-old Chad Dancroft strode purposefully down the shore, his quick blue eyes scanning first the bay on his right, where the waters changed from aqua to deep grey, to the seemingly impenetrable foliage of green on his left; from the high tops of the palm trees where a few bright birds twittered and sang, to the rocky, pine topped ridge before him. Brooke should be coming soon. In fact, after a quick glance at his watch, he realized that he was late, and she should have been waiting for him already.
“Our watches must not be in sinc,” he murmured, thinking half aloud as he often did when alone.
“Dancroft!”
Chad wheeled around sharply. A older, fellow member of the United States Coast Guard was hurrying down the sandy beach waving something white. “I thought I’d never catch you!” he sucked in a gulping mouthful of air. “Anyone trying to follow you would think you were-- well, let’s just say you sure move fast for someone on leave.” The newcomer grinned. “Weren’t going anywhere special, were you, Dancroft?”
Chad rolled his eyes, “Okay, White, why’d you chase me down?” Being one of the youngest members of the Coast Guard stationed here, Chad was often the brunt of good natured teasing.
The paper was held out, “Captain said to find you and deliver it. Don’t know what it’s about,” and White waited as the paper was snatched and read.
Sighing deeply, Chad let his stiff shoulders drop, and his face took on a look of puzzled bewilderment.
“What’s up?”
“I’m ordered back to the base at once. Captain gives no reason but the note is worded like it’s important.” When White didn’t say anything, Dancroft went on. “I’m supposed to meet Brooke on the rocks there, but she’s late.”
“Brooke?”
“My sister.”
“Oh, yeah. Can I give her a message for you?”
For a moment, Chad tapped the paper in his hand and frowned. At last he said, “Yeah, if you’ll just wait and tell her ‘Pop goes the weasel,’ I’d appreciate it.”
White looked at his companion in utter bewilderment, “Pop goes the weasel?” he asked at last.
“Yep.”
“I think the Captain must be wanting to send you to the hospital. The sun’s gotten to you. Pop goes the weasel indeed!”
Chad shrugged, while a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “’I got sick from all the sun, my sonny boy got the measles, but still we had a lot of fun. Pop goes the weasel’.” And with a laugh he set off back down the beach at a dogtrot leaving his companion standing dumfounded, gazing after him.
“Chad?” A bright voice recalled White from his bewilderment and sent him hurrying up the sand to where a young girl in a red and white sailor dress was skirting the rocks. When the girl realized that the older man approaching was not her brother, she paused as he came up.
“Brooke Dancroft?”
The girl nodded, noting the emblem of the Coast Guard on his shirt, “Where’s Chad? Who are you?”
“Tyler White, Miss: I work with your brother. He got called back to the base unexpectedly, but he left a message for you.”
“A message?” Brooke’s eyes lighted up at this news. “What is it?”
White frowned, “He said to tell you, ‘Pop goes the weasel’ but I haven’t a clue what he means by it. I hope you do.”
“Oh bother, and I was planning on spending the afternoon with him. Now what am I supposed to do?”
White looked down at the girl before him. She didn’t look more than twelve, with blonde hair and eyes as blue as her brother’s. Her face and arms were tan from the sun as were her feet in white sandals. As he stood looking at her, he was reminded of his own daughter back in Texas.
“Could I be of service in any way?” he questioned politely. “I have the afternoon off, if your brother doesn’t.”
Brooke looked up at him, tipping her head and pursing her lips. Then she shrugged. “If you want. Mom and I just arrived last week, and today she is gone for the whole day. She expected me to have Chad this afternoon, but I guess that won’t work.”
To be continued next week.
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