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Friday, June 12, 2020

Mysterious Words - Part 1

Good morning, Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
(I sometimes wonder how many years I've been calling you that. Perhaps I'll look some time.)

Anyway . . .

This week is disappearing quite quickly.
On Saturday I did quite a bit of work on the Christian Writing Camp. On Monday we got our last "Auntie" (our name for councilors) in, and opened the doors to a few "campers" to test things. Then we started sending information out to anyone and everyone. By the end of the first day we have quite a few join. And every day since then we've had at least a few people sign up. Right now we are over 30 participants! It's exciting to see this all come together. Yes, there are things we had to figure out that we hadn't realized before, or questions asked that we had to find the answer to. But it's been fun. If you want to join The King's Daughters' Writing Camp or want to know more about it, just send an email to kingsdaughterswritingcamp[at]gmail[dot]com and ask for the information, or an application.

On Sunday our church got to have Sunday school again, and a fellowship meal! That was exciting!

I've been trying to get writing in with all the Camp stuff. And I've managed to write most nights this week. Not all have gotten 1k, but I'm over half way done with Book 3! :) Maybe I will be able to finish it before the end of this month after all.

Okay, I went looking for a story to share today, and let me tell you, it was difficult! I have stories, lots of stories, but it seems that I've either just posted or re-posted them, or I've published them. This story was first written and published on here back in 2011. I thought it was safe to share it again. :) I was given some "rules" about writing this story, so it was a bit tricky.

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

Mysterious Words
Part 1

    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 dumbfounded, 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.”

Are you interested in our Writing Camp?
How was your week?
What do you think is going to happen in this story?

2 comments:

Edith said...

Ohhhhhhh....I can't STAND cliffhangers!!! I'm ready for the next chapter!!

Rebekah said...

Sorry, Edith, there are a lot of cliffhangers on these posts. ;P At least you know you can get the next part the next Friday and don't have to wait a month. :)