I can just catch a glimpse of the sunrise this morning and it looks really pretty: pale rose, powder blue and lavender. Where the sun is, I'm sure it is golden. Yesterday was breezy and cooler than it has been. Still not "cold" but nice. Today is supposed to be the same way. Ah, delightful fall.
I've been trying to work on a longer short story for a friend, but it is slow going. I can only get a couple hundred words written at one time. I'm thinking I started in the middle of the story. I'll see what I can do tonight. I really haven't written many short stories in the last couple months, so I need to get back into it. And don't worry, I'm not forgetting Triple Creek Ranch. Perhaps next week I can post part 12 of that.
I hope you all are enjoying my page of short stories. :) It seems pretty popular. And for those of you who have already gotten your book, I'd love to hear what you think of the end of it.
Here is the last part of The Storm. Hope you enjoy it!
Last week . . .
“When tir’d with vain rotations of the day, sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn.”
I think he’s read too much.
The storm still raged the next morning and no one except Dad ventured outside and that was just to refill the generator. Mrs. Turner seemed to enjoy rocking and knitting while others talked. All were enjoying the enforced morning of rest except Robert. And thereby hangs a tale, as Howard would say. Being only four, he soon grew restless and it wasn’t long before he, finding a small plastic fish, decided to roast it in the fire.
“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” so remarked Howard as the room became filled with the smell of melting plastic. Alex and I jumped to open windows. Dad had a talk with Robert and when the smell was nearly gone, the windows were shut and the rain which had come in was wiped up.
“Howard,” Dad asked when all was quiet again save for the storm outside, “That was Shakespeare you quoted, was it not?”
“For ever and a day, Sir, it was.”
Immediately, Dad was interested and Mr. Turner turned from the paper to remark, “I am in a holiday humor, shall we have some more?”
That is how the day began. It became a game among the scholars in the room. The rest looked on and listened. One person would quote a line, and the others would either guess who said it, or respond with another line. I was soon lost, for I will confess I haven’t read Shakespeare. Alex has and enjoyed it all. Even quiet Mrs. Turner would now and then toss out a line.
How long this went on, I can’t say for I soon wandered across the room and played a game of Chinese checkers with the twins and Robert. Robert is becoming quite good at the game, and I found it hard to keep from getting stuck too often.
We played five rounds before Mom called the girls to help with lunch. I wandered the room nearly as restlessly as Robert who followed me like a little puppy. The rain still came down though not as hard as the evening before, and the wind had died down to only occasional strong gusts which shook the house. The roar of the waves down on the shore kept drawing me to the window. How I longed to go out and see them.
Just as the clock struck noon, Mom called from the kitchen door, “Or o’er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, court the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.”
“Ah, a perfect rendering from King George I. If that is the call to partake of the substance which has been teasing my senses for some time, I will obey with the greatest of pleasure.” Howard rose from his seat and bowed low to Mom.
The lunch was tasty and the conversation lively with Howard quoting almost as often as he opened his mouth. Mr. Turner knew most of the quotes from Shakespeare. I don’t know what people see in the guy, I never could figure out what the fuss was about. Dad and even Alex enjoy Shakespeare. Me, I prefer someone who talks plain English.
However, after the meal was finished, I received permission to go outside. The girls begged to go too and when Dad looked questioningly at me, I nodded. It would be more fun with others. Besides, I knew they longed to get out. Robert had to take a nap, so he was spared the disappointment of not being alowed to go.
Donning our rain gear, we stepped out the back door into the wind and rain. Everything wore a gray mantle of wetness. The shoreline was shrouded in heavy mist giving the whole outdoors a ghostly appearance. Heavy pounding waves were heard, thudding, crashing, booming against a nearby cliff, shrieking winds whistled through tree tops causing them to bend with moaning groans. The rain dashed us in the face as we moved away from the shelter of the cabin. It was difficult to walk. Jessie hung on to one of my hands as we staggered along the shore. We didn’t go far. Stopping, out of breath, we turned our backs to the wind and rain.
“Let’s go home,” Jainie shouted. We had to shout to be heard above the storm.
Not bothering to answer, I started for home. Returning was easier since we had the rain and wind at our back. Still, we all stumbled several times and were thankful to reach our porch. I opened the door for the girls but before I could enter, something struck me from behind and I fell to the floor. It must have stunned me momentarily for when I opened my eyes, the door was shut and Mom was drying my face off. Alex was on the floor beside me checking my pulse.
“Wow! What was it?” I asked.
Dad held up a large size tree branch. I whistled.
“It’s an ill wind that blows no good,” Howard remarked.
For once a reply came to me and I said it. “Least said, sooner mended,” and I sat up in spite of Alex’s protests.
Dad laughed. “Think you can make it to your room?”
I nodded, and with help, got to my feet. Alex and Dad went with me. There I was helped out of my rain gear and put on dry socks. Alex checked me over carefully, but besides a large bruise on my back and a small lump on my head, I was fine. I guess it does pay to have a brother in pre-med. At least it comes in handy at times. Dad asked if I wanted to lie down and rest of a while, but I shook my head. I smelled gingerbread.
Comfortably situated in a recliner with a blanket over my legs and plate with a large piece of gingerbread in my hand, I grinned. “Isn’t there some quote about happiness or bliss?”
Right away Howard began, “Happiness consists in being perfectly satisfied with what we have got and with what we haven’t got.”
“Or how about this,” Mrs. Turner added, “All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.”
The girls found that much to their liking and tried to get a piece of my gingerbread. But I simply laughed and told them they had their own.
And thus the day wore on. Robert awoke eager to do something, and Mr. Turner set himself to carving a dog for him out of part of the branch that hit me. By evening the storm had all but stopped. Only a light rain fell as night shut down on us once again. Supper over as well as Bible time, our guests departed to their own cabins with lanterns and candles. Dad thought he could get the power back on in the morning.
Standing at our bedroom window before getting into bed, I saw the moon trying to shine through the thin film of clouds. The storm was finally over. I winced a little as I turned, my back was still very sore, but I would survive. The storm had lasted about twenty-four hours. I gave a sigh and crawled into bed. The rain had stopped, the wind had ceased to blow, only the pounding of the waves could be heard as I drifted off to sleep.
Did you like it?