Friday, November 10, 2017

Something Different - Part 6

Good morning, FFFs!
It's a lovely fall morning here. There's a light frost on the ground, but the sun is coming up and the sky is mostly clear. There are leaves all over the ground, but some of the trees are not ready to give up the last of their leaves. After five days of cloudy weather, we were delighted to see the sun again on Wednesday.

I taught my last writing classes this week. Well, at least until January. 😊 I am working on my list of things to get done before Christmas! But my desk really needs cleaned off. It's a mess. I've done some reading this week, and worked on blog posts.

Speaking of Blog Posts, put it on your calendar to come to Read Another Page on Monday! That's the start of the Christmas Collection Blog Tour! I think there are 22 bloggers signed up to be a part of it not counting myself. 😃😃 I'm super excited about this as it's my first ever Blog Tour for any of my books! There are interviews, book spotlights, book reviews, and I can't wait to read all the posts.

Writing. Yes, I did get some writing in this week. I actually got two days of writing 1k or more! This story is really coming along. And then when this is finished, I have another short Christmas story to write.

Everything is going by much too quickly! I want to enjoy things, not rush through them. So, let's take time to actually enjoy each day this coming week, shall we?

Something Different
Part 6

    “I don’t know for sure. Grandma said her friend had told her that each applicant would hear back even if they didn’t get the position. I just don’t know when that will be. Oh,” Lindsay wailed, “I hope I can concentrate on my own classes!”
    “You’ll have to, if you want to teach,” Abby informed her bluntly. “You don’t think they’ll choose someone who is failing in her classes, do you?”
    Somehow Abby’s words calmed the butterflies in her stomach, and Lindsay drew a long deep breath of the chilly air. She would wait. And while she waited, she’d put a hundred and ten percent effort into her own studies, if for no other reason than to keep herself too busy to think.

    Days passed. They marched steadily onward with a relentlessness that left no doubt that autumn was not going to drag its feet. Though she worked hard on every assignment she received in class, often doing more than was required just for the sake of keeping busy, Lindsay felt that the days must surely have passed for choosing the teacher. But she still had heard nothing. She said not a word to Abby, but her friend seemed to know what she was thinking and tried to encourage her.
    “It’s only been a week since you turned in your application,” she said one evening. “If it’s as Dr. Willman told you and people are applying from across the country, it’s going to take a long time to go over them all. And if everyone wrote as much as you did, it’s going to take even longer,” she finished with a little laugh.
    “I know. I just wish I could hear something. No one on campus seems to have heard anything either. And there wasn’t much time to get the word out on campus here before we had to turn the applications in.”
    A tune began to play from the pocket of Lindsay’s backpack, which sat on the floor near the couch where Lindsay was reclining. Reaching over, Lindsay felt around and pulled out her phone. A glance at the number brought a puzzled expression to her face.
    “Anyone you know?” Abby asked.
    Lindsay shook her head and answered. “Hello?” A sharp intake of breath and then a slightly quavering, “Yes?” alerted Abby that it was an important call. “Uh huh. . . . Of course!” Fanatically Lindsay sat up and made writing motions to Abby.
    Quickly handing her a notebook and pen, Abby held them steady as Lindsay jotted down an address, a time and a date.
    A few more words were exchanged before Lindsay hung up and, dropping the phone on the couch beside her, sagged against the back.
    “What?” demanded Abby. “Was it about the school?”
    “Yes. They want to meet me out at the school Saturday morning, but they made it clear that they haven’t made a decision yet.” She stared from the writing on the paper up to her best friend’s face. “I’m going to go see the schoolhouse.”

    It took every bit of Lindsay’s effort to concentrate on her own studies, but when Friday afternoon arrived and she had nothing to work on, she grew restless. If it hadn’t been raining, she would have walked off some of her nervousness and excitement on campus, but it was, and Lindsay paced the hall, the stairs, and the small confines of their apartment. Finally Abby tossed aside the book she was trying to read.
    “Sit,” she ordered as Lindsay wandered through the room for the seventh time. She pointed to a chair she had pulled out from their small table. “We may as well see if we can get your hair to go easily up in the correct style for a one-room schoolhouse. If you get chosen we won’t have hours to spend each day getting it up.”
    “Oh, Abby, I hadn’t thought of that. If I have to dress the part, what am I going to wear? I don’t have anything that looks like it’s from the eighteen hundreds.”
    “Don’t worry about that. Let’s just focus on your hair right now. Do you know how it’s supposed to look?”

    The autumn sun was bright in a sky washed clear by yesterday’s rain, and only a light breeze tickled the splendidly dressed branches of the trees on campus. It was after noon when Lindsay parked her car and climbed out in front of her dorm. In a daze she entered the building, not paying any attention to the alluring colors and warm sunshine. Slowly she walked up the stairs and down the hall. Stopping before her own door, she stood, silently staring at nothing until the door was flung open and Abby stood before her.
    “Well? Did you get it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Abby pulled her inside and shut the door. “What’s come over you, Lindsay?” She gave her a little shake and then pushed her down onto the couch. “What was the schoolhouse like?”
    Some of the stupor left Lindsay, and her eyes began to glow as she told of the small schoolhouse, painted red on the outside with a bell in a little shelter on the roof, a stack of wood beside the porch, and the white trim around the windows. “Oh, Abby, it’s the most delightful place I ever saw! There’s a stove inside to keep it warm, real blackboards, old fashioned desks, and a little platform with the teachers desk up on it. There’s a door near the platform that used to just go outside, but now it goes to a little hall and the bathrooms. There is an outside door in the hall though. And there’s a coat room when you first come in, so the children can hang their coats and a shelf for them to put their lunch pails.”
    “But who was there, and what did you do besides look around?” Abby demanded.
    Lindsay blinked. “Oh, sorry. Sharon and three other students from college were there as well as five other applicants. I didn’t know the two guys who were from here, though I recognized them, but the other girl is Jeanette–somebody, the friend of the Carmichaels.”

What makes you give 110% effort into something?
Even if you weren't going to teach, would you like to visit that schoolhouse?
Will you be joining me on Monday for the Blog Tour?


Ashley said...

I look forward to your blog there going to be a giveaway attached? I just love giveaways! :)


Liberty Bluebelle said...

Ah, yes. Things are going too fast. I'll join you in slowing down and appreciating each day this week as it comes. =)

It sounds like Lindsay almost awestruck by the schoolhouse. I'd like to visit it myself. ;)

I look forward to the next installment! Yes, I'll be seeing the Blog Tour Monday! =D

In Joy,
Liberty Bluebelle

"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty."

Rebekah said...

Hi Ashley!
The Blog Tour has started! :D No, there isn't a giveaway this time. But if you stay tuned to Read Another Page in December, you might be even more happy. ;)

I'm finding it hard to slow down, but I'm trying. And yes, I want to visit that schoolhouse too!
Enjoy the Blog Tour.