Florida - Part 1

Good morning, Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,

Today is supposed to be in the 50s instead of 70º+ like it has been the last two days. Those warm days have brought flowers up and blooming everywhere. Trees are budded and grass is turning green. Spring has come. So have allergies. At least I don't have them bad.

This week is vanishing much too rapidly for my comfort.

Saturday – my seven nieces and nephews were over until around 4:30 after spending Friday night here. We rode bikes and even got to chat with an Army Reserve guy. The boys were thrilled even if they couldn't think of any questions to ask him.

Sunday – We had choir practice after church, then came home. I got to read all afternoon. It was lovely! We also had that crazy time change.

Monday – I had a long list of things to do and work on, and I crossed almost everything off the list. I didn't write though. Instead I went to bed early. Not because I was tired (still felt like 8), but because I had to get up early the next day.

Tuesday – Up at 4:30. I had to be at my polling place at 5:30 to get everything set up. One of our regular workers (my fellow supervisory judge) couldn't make it, so one of the others I usually work with got bumped up to that spot and we had another person fill in. We had 235 voters come in that day. Packed up after the polls closed at 7 PM. Had to take the ballots to the courthouse thirty minutes away. It was after 10 before I got to bed.

Wednesday – I needed a nap almost as soon as I got up. ;) I did get some things done, but not much. I worked on some blog posts that evening instead of writing.

Thursday – Back into things. I wrote last evening and got 1,300+ words written.

This story is based on a true experience my grandma had during World War Two. She told us the story last year for the first time and I knew I had to turn it into a story. And Ria was the best person for it to happen to. I hope you enjoy this first part.

Florida

    “Come home with me for lunch, Lydia,” begged Ria. The two girls were starting down the steps of the high school one afternoon in early fall. The sun was warm and bright, not a cloud was to be seen, and not a bit of chill tinged the air.

    Lydia hesitated. “I don’t know, Ria,” she began. “Your mother might not like me to come every day.”

    At that Ria gave an unladylike snort and pulled her friend down the sidewalk. “You could come over every day, and Mama wouldn’t care. It’s so different around the house with so many of the gang gone. I need someone to cheer me up, so you’ll just have to come. You brought your own lunch.” She nodded toward the brown paper bag Lydia carried. “You have to eat it somewhere, and it might as well be my house.”

    “All right,” Lydia gave in.

    Walking briskly down the sidewalk, Ria wondered what her brothers and cousins were doing far away in training camps. Turning onto her street, Ria glanced at the houses as they passed them. Several displayed stars in the windows, but she knew her home was the only one with three stars. “There’s the mailman!” she exclaimed, breaking into a run.

    Lydia followed clutching her lunch in her hand.

    Arriving at the house, Ria tried the door, found it locked, and quickly retrieved the key from under the mat. “I don’t know why Mama even bothers to lock the door,” she remarked. “Everyone knows to look under the mat for the key.”

    “I guess it tells you if your mother is home or not,” replied Lydia.

    “I guess so.” Unlocking the door, Ria returned the key to its hiding place and waited for the mailman. “Hello, Mr. Jones!”

    “Hi, girls.” And the mailman smiled as he came up the sidewalk. “I have a few letters for you this afternoon, Ria, and a box that has me curious.”

    “A box?” Ria looked eager. Boxes didn’t arrive at the Mitchell home very often. “Is it from Millie?” Her only girl cousin near her age lived on the east coast and seldom came for a visit.

    “Nope,” Mr. Jones said and handed her a box.

    It was just a cigar box with V shaped holes on either end under the lid. The return address was a bit blurred, and she wasn’t able to make it out. “It’s from somewhere. Probably Ed or one of the twins. I wish I knew which one because then maybe I’d know what it was. What could he be sending me in this small of a box?”

    “Do you mind if I come inside and see while you open it?” Mr. Jones asked. “It’s got me so curious I wanted to open it an hour ago. I keep thinking something’s sliding around in there.”

    “Sure. Come on in.” And Ria, holding the box carefully in her hand, pulled the screen door open and motioned for the mailman and Lydia to enter ahead of her. “Mom’s at some meeting or other,” she explained.

    In the kitchen, she set the box on the table and prepared to open it, then stopped suddenly. “Let’s all make a guess as to what’s inside it.”

    “I think it might be sea shells,” Lydia said, “if it’s from somewhere along the coast.”

    “Maybe it’s a new hat for your doll.”

    At that Ria burst into laughter. “Mr. Jones, I haven’t played dolls for years! I think it’s probably a book for my war bond stamps, or a few odds and ends whoever sent this has picked up.”

    “Well, open it up and see! We don’t have much time before we have to get back to school, Ria.”

    At that reminder, Ria opened the box and stared. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

    Beside her, Lydia gave a little shriek and backed away, and Mr. Jones gave a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be! I’ve heard about those things, but I never thought I’d see one here in Plainville, much less deliver one in the mail. Which one of the gang sent it?”

    Ria, still holding the lid of the box, turned it over in her hand and discovered a scrawled message. She read it aloud.

    “Ria, thought you’d get some fun out of this guy. Tom. P.S. Don’t let the rest of the gang torment him.”

    With a shake of her head, Ria looked down into the box again. “I should have known Tom was behind this. He’s down in Florida right now.”

    Inside the box was a tiny baby alligator. It was only a few inches long.

    “He’s kind of cute,” Ria remarked, gingerly picking up the reptile and looking him over. “In an ugly sort of way. But what are we going to do with him? Is it a him?” She gave the creature another careful scrutiny. “How do you tell? He, she, it–” She shook her head. “Anyway, this thing is probably hungry.”

    Lydia, not venturing very close to the table, looked on with another shiver. “What do you feed alligators?”

    Both girls looked at Mr. Jones, but he shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’ve never even seen one before this.” And the mailman backed away. “I hate to leave you like this, girls, but I have to deliver the mail.” He paused at the door and looked back. “Thanks for letting me see what was in that box, Ria.”

    “Sure.” Ria’s answer was absentminded as she eyed her new pet. “Does it drink milk like a kitten?”

How was your week?

Would you like to get a baby alligator in the mail?

What would you feed it?