Narcissus

 Good morning,

Do you ever feel as though your morning was just a few minutes late? Not like really late, but just a little bit that has you wondering if you got up a little later or are just slower about things? That's what this morning feels like. Part of it could be because I'm still kind of tired. It's been a busy week moving things and packing a few last things, and trying to figure out where to put other things.

And I've been trying to keep up my writing. I did write on Sunday evening because the story wouldn't leave me alone and I just felt like it. Now I have the freedom to skip another day during this week and still keep up with my 100 to 100 challenge. 

This week is hot. Yesterday and today we have Excessive Heat Warnings. It reached 100º yesterday with the heat index of 110º. Not fun. So thankful for AC!

Today's story is from Sunday's picture and word of the day. My mom gave me the idea for this story after looking up the word Narcissus. I hope you enjoy it.

 

     Gloria yawned and stretched. The bed was soft and the blankets warm. Turning on her side, she looked out the large window at the bare trees and the leaf covered ground. This family vacation was just what she needed.
    After a few luxurious minutes of knowing that no homework or school bus waited for her, and that she could sleep as long as she wanted, she suddenly didn’t want to sleep any more. The day was cloudy, but autumn days were best that way.
    Sitting up, she leaned back against a large fluffy pillow and reached for the book she had been reading the night before. She could read all morning if she wanted to.
    However, as she began reading her eye fell on a word that reminded her of something and she fell to thinking instead.
    “Stan told me I was like a narcissus. I should look that up. I didn’t think he liked me, but he must.” One finger began to twist the long dark hair. “I’ve never had anyone, especially a boy like me enough to tell me I was like a flower. I wonder what a narcissus looks like.”
    Laying her book aside, Gloria reached down and picked up her phone from the floor. A quick search showed her several flowers in the narcissus family.
    “How lovely! Stan must really like me.” She smiled dreamily and stared unseeingly out the window. “Of course I am pretty and smart. I don’t know why more people don’t like me. Maybe Stan will send me flowers of the narcissus family. I wonder if narcissus means anything. A lot of flowers have meaning.”
    Forgetting completely about her book or about getting up, Gloria did another search. This one proved more enlightening.
    “Narcissus was a hunter in Greek mythology who was very beautiful and vain and rude.” A slight frown began to grow on Gloria’s face. “He saw his reflection in a pool and fell in love with himself. He was then turned into the narcissus flower.” The frown turned into a scowl. “Narcissism is the absorption of one’s self.”
    In disgust, Gloria tossed the phone onto her bed. “Did Stan tell me I was like a Narcissus because he thinks I’m too absorbed with myself? How rude! I’m not like that at all! I am polite to others, I help the teacher, I’m not rude to others, I volunteer for things if they aren’t too messy or dirty, I offered to help tutor, I offered to be queen in the school play. And I’m sure I’ve done many other things.”
    “Maybe you should take a look at that list again.”
    Gloria started and her eyes flew toward the door where her sister stood. “What list?”
    “The one you were just muttering. Everything you listed begins with ‘I’. And,” her sister went on ignoring Gloria’s rolled eyes, “every conversation I’ve heard you in at school revolves around you. What you did, what you think, what you feel. I’d say Stan was right when he said you were like a narcissus.”
    Gloria opened her mouth to argue, but her sister disappeared leaving her alone. “But I’m not at all like that,” she said to the empty room. “Am I?”
    For several sober minutes, Gloria reviewed some of her most recent conversations at school and with her friends. It was true. She did talk about herself more than anything else. “I guess I’m pretty vain too. And if Stan was thinking of where the name narcissus came from when he told me that, he was right. It’s not going to be easy changing, but with God’s help and lots of prayer, I’m not going to stay a narcissus.”

Have you ever known "narcissus" people?

What have you been doing this week?

Do you have AC?

Triple Feature

 Good morning!

This week has been crazy. Lot's of packing boxes with books, lots of moving books and shelves, lots of figuring out what we can put in storage for a few months, several trips to the storage unit with loads of boxes and things. We no longer have books in the halls. We don't have books or audios in the sewing room. Mom & Dad's room is almost devoid of books as well. It's all crazy. We're waiting until the last minute to move my sister and her sewing stuff upstairs. Still have no idea when we're going to actually start tearing walls out.

I'm trying to keep my sanity by doing a little writing. I can't even think about working on one of my longer stories that needs figuring out. Right now I'm doing good to write short little things from the picture prompts and word of the day that are being shared at camp. And today you get three of my little stories.

As you'll see, all three of these is different. But they're all short. Happy reading.

 

 #1

“Come on, Katja,” Rylie begged. “You just have to go to the party tonight.”
Katja shook her head as the two sisters entered the house. The ceiling was high and gave the feeling that one was in a vaulted church instead of an old house. Two marble pillars stood guard the one at the foot of the winding stairs, and the other directly opposite at the end of the entry way.
“All the girls will be there.”
“I’m not going, Rylie,” Katja replied, starting up the stairs.
“Walter, Emil, and Hans will all be there.”
On the landing where the stairs curved and sunlight flooded in through the large window, she turned to her sister. “Rylie, I don’t care who is going to be there tonight. I’m not going. I have studying to do that can’t wait. Besides, I promised Suzette that I’d help her with her studying.”
“You’re no fun. I thought sisters were supposed to go places and do things together. You won’t. Maybe you really aren’t my sister.” Rylie tossed her head.
Katja gave a little sigh and breathed a quick prayer for patience. “Rylie, I am your sister and I love you dearly, but I have already said I can’t go. Everyone knows I can’t go, and nothing you say will goad me into changing my mind.”
At that Rylie slumped against the window ledge. “I know. I just don’t want to go alone.”
“Then stay and help Suzette and I study. You are good at quizzing me. Maybe it would help Suzette too.”
Rylie straightened. “You really want me to stay?”
“I really do.” Katja made no mention about her worries over her sister attending that party alone.
“All right,” Rylie said, “I’ll stay. But you’ll really have to study if I’m helping.”
With a laugh, Katja started up the rest of the stairs. “Yes, teacher.”

 

 #2

 It was a tiny village nestled between two towering cliffs. Many days the clouds obscured the tops of the mountains, and hid the village from view. Only a few dozen people still lived in the village year round for many had grown up and moved to larger cities leaving behind the seclusion, the quietness, and the safety of home. Some came back for visits but they never stayed long.
“There’s just nothing to do here,” was the remark of several of the younger villagers who had returned.
It was true that there was only one way to reach the village and that was by a narrow road no larger than a small horse drawn wagon. No cars or trucks would make it over the winding road and so the village had been left as it had been for over a hundred years.
The white-washed houses and shops, the church with it’s tall steeple looking down over everything and the roads which ran up and down hill gave the village a pleasant, relaxing feature.
“If there were just more things to do.”
“And easier access to the outside.”
These were the sentiments often repeated until that day that Kenzie arrived with news.
The world was at war.
Germany had swallowed up Poland, marched into Austria, and France and England had declared war. Russia was involved and who knew if the United States would join as they had twenty some years before.
“We must fortify the village!” The old butcher exclaimed.
“Yes! But how?”
“We should guard the road.”
“And the mountains!”
“We need guns and ammunition.”
Mr. Wagner, the village minister shook his gray head. Slowly, he made his way to the church and mounted the steps before the doors. He looked up and saw the low clouds. Turning, he lifted his hands to quiet the people. “My friends,” he began, his voice still strong, “our village is fortified. Do you see those towering cliffs on either side of us? The clouds that hang low? We could attempt to destroy the only way into our village and risk starving ourselves, or we can trust in the only living Fortification.” He looked about him. “Our Lord is our Refuge and our Strength. He is our Fortress, our Stronghold in the day of trouble. Let us, in this time of trouble and worry go to our knees before our Lord and plead for Him to fortify our souls for the days that lie ahead.”
There was silence a moment and then as Mr. Wagner got slowly to his knees on the stone steps, the villagers followed his example until every person knelt in the tiny village and pleaded for the Lord to fortify their hearts for the coming trials.

 

 #3

  I walked down the road out of town but saw no sign of him. Where had he gone? It wasn’t like my husband to just disappear without telling me. As the sun sank lower I gave a slight shiver, not because I was cold, but because–well, I’ve always been timid in the dark.
“Annie?”
Starting, I turned and saw him. He had left the road was standing at the edge of a field of poppies. The sun seemed to make them glow as they nodded their bright heads in the soft evening breeze. Carefully making my way across the ditch and up the little hill, I reached my husband’s side.
“Were you looking for me?”
I nodded not mentioning my concern.
He seemed to guess it anyway. “Sorry.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “I was feeling . . . Well, it was . . .” He stopped and started again. “I guess I could liken it to the feeling of a wild animal trapped in a cage. No.” He shook his head and sighed. “Maybe I could best liken it to feeling suffocated, unable to breath freely.”
“Like wearing those gas masks during the war?” I asked softly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“The poppies remind you of the war too, don’t they?”
The answer was a scarcely audible, “Yes.”
I slipped my arms around my husband and he pulled me closer.
“In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row.”
The sun sank lower as my husband murmured the words of the poem. I knew he was seeing again the horrors of that battlefield. Was there anything I could say to help? “They gave their lives for freedom,” I whispered.
“I know. I just wish I could have talked to them all about Jesus and His sacrifice for our salvation.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. This husband of mine surprised me in so many wonderful ways. “God didn’t place them all in your life, darling. You share where God puts you and leave the rest to Him.”
I felt his cheek against the top of my head. “I’ll try to remember that, sweetheart. Thank you.”

 Did you read all 3 stories?

Which did you like best?

Do you want more of my prompt stories?

Camping

 Good morning, FFFs,

It's a rainy morning here. And my to-do list is long. I'm not actually sure if I can get everything done since I don't know how much time we'll spend packing boxes and moving books. But we'll see. Some things I HAVE to get done.

Yesterday my mom, sister and I went up to visit my grandparents since it was my grandma's 93rd birthday. It was good to be there. Now it's back to work, and I'm keeping this short because I'm busy and because today's story is longer than usual. I hope you don't mind. ;) It's another story I wrote from the Picture Prompts and Word of the Day at KDWC. If you are at camp, you may have read it. If not, enjoy! Oh, and it really doesn't have a title, so if you think of one, let me know in the comments.

    “Dawn. Hey, honey, wake up.”
    Still feeling groggy, Dawn opened one eye and promptly closed it again. “Hmmm.”
    “Dawn, I really need you to wake up. We may have a problem.”
    This time Dawn sat up in her seat and yawned before opening her eyes. Somewhat surprised, the car had stopped on the side of the road. Or was it a road? “Where are we Craig?”
    “Uh, well. I’m not sure. I followed Siri’s directions, but she obviously has no clue where anything is.”
    “Can’t you just turn around and drive back the way we came?” Feeling suddenly wide awake, Dawn looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere. No houses, barns, or any sign that life had once been there was an old road covered with potholes which appeared to completely disappear before them.
    “I would. But we may have engine trouble.”
    “Engine trouble?” Dawn’s echo held worry and confusion all at once. “Do our phones work? Can we call for a tow truck?”
    “Nope. I can’t even get Siri to help us. All she says is--” And Craig tried to imitate Siri’s voice. “Recalculating.” He rolled his eyes. “And even if we could call for a tow truck, I have no idea where we are and can’t very well tell them where to find us.” Craig folded his arms over the steering wheel. “Nope, I’m going to have to fix it myself. If I can.” The last was muttered in low tones, but his wife heard.
    “Craig, you can fix it. But it’s going to get dark soon--”
    “It’s a good thing we have half of our belongings in the car including our tent.” Craig opened the door and stepped out. “It’s a bit chilly out here. Let me have a look at the engine and if I think it will be an easy fix, we won’t unload anything.”
    “This could be an interesting evening,” Dawn remarked to herself as she climbed from the car and pulled her jacket on. As Craig studied the inside of the engine, Dawn studied the land around them.
    There were trees and brush. Hills and grassy areas that might work for pitching a tent. “We have a tent and sleeping bags,” she mused. “Clothes, a few books, some cooking pans, a bushel of apples, canisters of flour, sugar, and noodles. We have some spices and the cooler has eggs, milk, cheese, and butter. And the breadbox has bread, crackers, and cookies. Oh, I think we have a few cans of beans tucked around somewhere. No meat though. Too bad we couldn’t have brought along one of Gran’s chickens. Oh, well.  It might be interesting cooking, but we won’t starve. Oh, and we have syrup. I can’t forget that. The last two quarts from Grandpa’s maple trees.” Turning away from the back of the car, Dawn walked to the front where her husband had his head under the hood.
    “Find out anything?”
    A grunt was the only answer.
    “I’m going to look for a place to pitch our tent.” When Craig didn’t answer, Dawn smiled and walked away. “At least we like camping.”
    She soon found a level place in a small clearing near the road. The ground appeared fairly flat and free from stones. After some searching, she found enough large rocks to build a fire circle and then began to collect sticks for a fire. “Even if he gets the car fixed soon and we head back, someone else might need to camp and finding a fire circle all ready and wood nearby would be helpful. Sometimes I wonder if Siri thinks people need to get away from everything and relax so she sends them out to the middle of nowhere.” She laughed at the thought. “Savannah would be in a panic if she were out here. She may be my sister, but she hates camping and bugs and anything that might get you dirty.”
    After getting their site set up as much as she could without a tent or their cooking pots, Dawn returned to the car. Craig was just shutting the hood of their old station wagon.
    “Fix it?” She was slightly disappointed for camping in the middle of nowhere was sounding more fun by the minute.
    “No.” Craig wiped his hands on a dirty towel and then raised his eyes to hers. “I’m sorry, Dawn. I don’t know what the problem is. I can try a few things, but my tools are in the bottom underneath everything. We’d have to unload it all to get to them and by then it’ll probably be dark.”
    “That’s okay. I found a perfect camping place. It’s a good thing we have that five gallon water jug in our car and not in the other vehicle.”
    Craig looked surprised. “You mean you don’t mind?”
    “No, I think this will be fun. It will be an adventure. We might have to eat some strange things, but we won’t starve. And we’ll stay plenty warm in our sleeping bags even if it is fall.” She leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh of contentment.
    Before long the tent was set up, sleeping bags unrolled, and a fire going. They decided to just have toasted cheese sandwiches, apples and cookies for supper.
    “I can make some sort of pancakes for breakfast, I think,” Dawn said, pulling her coat closer for the night air was decidedly chilly.
    Craig nodded. “Sounds good to me. We don’t have any coffee do we?” He glanced around from the dishes he was washing. Having found a small stream, he had filled a pan with water and let it boil for several minutes before adding a little of their water from the cooler. They didn’t have any dish-soap, but neither one minded.
    “No, and I don’t think we have any packets of hot chocolate either. Hmm.” Dawn frowned in thought. Was there some hot drink she could make in the morning? “I could make tea. I have some mint leaves that my cousin gave me before we left. They are dried and in a little box in my bag.”
    Craig nodded and finished the dishes. The couple sat by their fire but when the breeze began to pick up, they put their fire out, and settled into their tent.

    Sometime during the night, Dawn woke to the gentle patter of rain on their tent. She turned over, snuggled even deeper in her warm sleeping bag, and drifted back to sleep.

    “It was a good idea,” Dawn began as she mixed the pancake batter the next morning, “to put some wood and those logs in the car last night. It would have been hard to start the fire this morning, I’m afraid, with how soaked everything is.”
    “I remembered there had been a chance of rain in this area yesterday. I’m just glad I remembered before I fell asleep. You know, Dawn, this tea isn’t half bad.” And he lifted his cup for another drink.
    Dawn laughed. “For you that’s saying quite a bit. Do you want to pour some syrup into that glass pitcher-thing and heat it up? I still have no idea why my aunt thought I should have it. I don’t even know what to call it or what to use it for. But it should work well for heating up some syrup for our pancakes.
    Before long breakfast was ready and after a prayer of thanks for the day and their food, they began to eat. Craig suggested they roast some apples over the fire and then dip them in syrup, and Dawn agreed quickly.
    When they were both full, the dishes had been washed, and the morning sun was shining brightly, Craig went back to the car leaving Dawn to read or relax.
    Finding herself not interested in any book, Dawn walked down the road a little ways and then back. There wasn’t much to see. When she returned to the car, Craig looked up and shook his head. “I have no idea what is wrong with this thing,” he admitted. “Did you see any signs of life?”
    “No, but we might go up that hill over there,” and she pointed across the road. “Maybe we can see some farmhouse, or something from there.”
    “It’s worth a try, I guess.”
    The wet grass soon soaked their socks, but they kept going. To Dawn the entire thing was an adventure and who better to have an adventure with than her husband?
    On reaching the top of the hill, they stood stock still and stared.
    “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Craig asked at last.
    “If you’re seeing a thriving town just below us, then yes. Look,” Dawn said, bursting into laughter. “There’s a hotel. And a restaurant. They probably sell coffee.”
    “And that looks like some mechanic shop right over there. Honey, I’m guessing that road back there,” and he nodded back toward their car, “used to go to town, but for some reason they stopped using it and it’s become overgrown and full of pot holes.”
    “Come on,” Dawn said, tugging at his hand. “Let’s go down and see if we can’t get someone to fix our car. We’ll have to pack up camp too.” She laughed again and this time Craig joined her.

Have you ever gotten lost on a trip?

Do you like camping?

How is your to-do list for today?

Unusual 4th of July

 Good morning, FFFs,

How are you this July morning? I'm doing well. Feeling a bit like a dog trying to catch up with the dog in front of him only to realize he's been chasing his tail. ;) There are so many little things that need done and it can feel overwhelming when I'm not sure just where to start.

I got my proof copy for "Phil Wood" yesterday! I love having book 4 in the series in my hands and I can't wait to get it into your hands as well.

Do you have a blog? Have you ever attended the Five Fall Favorites on my Read Another Page blog? If so, would you possibly be interested in being a blogger for the party this year? If you are interested, fill out the form HERE. This does NOT mean you have to do it, and it does not mean you will get asked, it just tells us if we have any interested bloggers.

My writing has been a bit different these days. At writing camp this month we have a Word of the Day being shared as well as a Picture Prompt each day. Well, just for a challenge and something new and different to do, I decided I was going to try to combine both the Word of the Day and the day's Picture Prompt into a scene or short story. I've been able to do it so far. Some scenes have been very short, only a couple hundred words. But some have been longer. I'll probably be sharing some of these stories and scenes on here. I do still want to get some of my other books finished, but I need to sit down and brainstorm about some of them, and since I've been so busy, that hasn't happened yet.

Another thing that is keeping at least my brain busy is that we are planning and getting ready to gut and redo two rooms in our house that have never been redone. And also finish the hall. This means we have to pack up all the books in the hall (hundreds of them), and then before we can start any construction we have to move my sister's sewing business upstairs. So right now we are thinking about what we want to change, how many outlets, lights, and shelves we want and where we want them. And we're trying to figure out where we're going to store all the boxes of books. Nothing like remodeling projects to throw life into extra busy. ;)

This story has a picture prompt of fireworks and instructions of telling what unusual thing happened during them. And the Word of the Day that I had to work into my story was Visage. I hope you enjoy it!

 July 4th

 

Okay, this is from Sunday's picture prompt + word of the day. It is unedited.
Enjoy it or don't. :) Kylie settled herself in a lawn chair beside her sister. “Are you sure you should be out here in this crowd watching fireworks this late in your pregnancy? We could have watched the neighborhood ones and stayed home. Or--”
“Oh, Kylie, stop being a spoilsport,” Kate scolded. “I’m not due for three weeks and the neighborhood fireworks will be lousy compared to this display. You’ve never seen our fireworks.” Kate spoke of “our fireworks” as though she had had a personal hand in the selection and arrangement of them.
“Well, I did promise Joe I’d take care of you while he was away,” Kylie began. “And this just seems like a crazy idea.”
Kate laughed. “I’m fine. Even if my water breaks and I go into labor here, we’re closer to the hospital than we would be at home.”
“Fine. You win. We’ll stay here.” Kylie pushed a few pieces of hair off her face and looked back in the direction their car was parked. The grassy field was filling up quickly, and she couldn’t help wonder how hard it would be to get to the hospital; after they got through the crowd.
“Ky,” Kate scolded, “stop worrying and enjoy the evening.”
“I’ll try.” And Kylie smiled at her twin. “We still have half an hour to wait before the fireworks start. We should have brought something to do.”
“We can talk. Tell me about Mike.” Leaning back against the back her chair Kate looked expectantly toward her sister.
“Mike? What made you bring him up? I haven’t heard from him in two years.”
“Has it really been that long?” Kate looked confused. “I thought you’d sent me a picture of him not long ago.”
Kylie shook her head. “Couldn’t have. I haven’t seen him or talked with him.”
With a thoughtful look, Kate began tapping her upper lip, a habit she had when trying to remember something. “I know I saw his picture and not long ago. Where was it? Joe didn’t send it. Are you sure--”
“Miss Kylie!” A shrill voice made every head in the area turn as a young child raced across the grass and flung herself against Kylie.
“Hi Lilly.” Kylie hugged the small girl and looked up for the rest of her family.
“I love you!” Lilly exclaimed, her arms still around her friend.
Kylie laughed. “I love you too.”
“Kylie, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Matthews said, hurrying over.
Kylie quickly assured Mrs. Matthews that it was all right and she loved getting hugs from the exuberant child.
“Are you looking for a place to settle down and watch the fireworks?” Kate asked. “There’s some space right here if you want to join us.”
“We don’t want to be a bother,” Mrs. Matthews began, but her words were quickly brushed away by both sisters. And so, in a few minutes, the Matthews family settled themselves beside Kate and Kylie.
The fireworks began with a glittering display of lights. The crowd exclaimed over the colors and loud explosions.
Kylie’s attention was often distracted by Lilly’s antics, for the young girl couldn’t sit still. She danced and jumped, tried to turn somersaults, and often tripped over legs.
During the lull before the grand finale, Kate leaned over and asked softly, “Are you sure you didn’t send me an old picture of Mike?”
Kylie nodded. “Positive.”
“That’s so strange. I know I’ve seen his picture not that long ago.”
“Maybe it was just someone who looked like Mike,” Kylie suggested.
But Kate shook her head. “No, it was Mike Standish. Either the picture said his name or someone told me who it was. Now it’s going to bug me.”
Kylie laughed merrily. “Are you sure you didn’t just dream it?”
There was no time for Kate to reply before the sky was again filled with lights and colors. Red fountains, gold stars, silver, green, blue, and purple exploding one on top of the other.
The crowd cheered until a shrill scream of pain pulled attention from the fireworks to Lilly. She lay on the ground, crying and holding her arm.
Instantly forgetting the display above them, Kylie joined Mr. and Mrs. Matthews beside the little girl. “Her arm is hurt.”
“We need a doctor,” Mrs. Matthews exclaimed.
“We’ll have to take her to the hospital, but--”
“Is there something I can do to help?” a new voice asked.
Kylie looked up. A man stood beside her, his visage hard to distinguish in the kaleidoscope of colors, but the voice. Had she just imagined it?
Mr. Matthews answered. “I think her arm might be broken.”
“I’m a doctor, can I check?”
This time Kylie was sure, but she couldn’t speak. Not then. She doubted he would even know her now.
“Does anyone have something we can use for a sling?” the man asked after a quick examination. “I don’t think it’s broken, just sprained.
Kylie pulled off her bandana headband and held it out.
“Thanks, Kys.” The man smiled at her as he took the offered cloth.
Only one person had ever called her that.
After the Matthews family disappeared into the crowd just beginning to gather their things, Kylie looked up to see Mike watching her.
“I thought I heard your laugh earlier, Kys,” he said quietly, “but I thought I was mistaken. I’m glad I wasn’t.”
“Me too.”
“Do you live here in town?”
“With my sister for now.” She nodded back to Kate. “Until her husband returns from deployment. You?”
“Yep. I just got a job at the hospital.”
Kate’s voice broke in. “That’s where I saw his picture! It was in the paper from the hospital!”
Kylie had to laugh and Mike joined in.
“Can we have lunch together sometime soon?” Mike asked, acting ready to give Kate a hand if she needed it as she stiffly rose to her feet, but glancing at Kylie.
“I’d like that.”
“Tomorrow?”
Kylie nodded. This was a fireworks display she wouldn’t soon forget. 

Have you had anything unusual happen while watching fireworks?

Do you want to read more of my short stories from camp?

Are you feeling like a dog chasing his tail?

Rhode Island Story – Part 6

 Happy 2nd of July!

It's almost the 4th. Are you doing anything special for Independence Day? (This question is only for my American readers. 😉) Tomorrow we're attending a church family celebration held out in the country at a family's house. They have a baseball diamond so I'm sure there will be baseball. We're bringing things to make and shoot water rockets, and then there will be plenty of food and a really nice fireworks display after dark. Two of the guys at church put together the fireworks and figure out how to get everything wired just right so they can just push a button and don't have constantly run up to light another one.

KDWC has started now. We opened with over 100 people! It really is incredible to see how God has brought people from all around the world to our little place for encouragement, fun, and of course, writing.

 And here is your next part of this story. I'm afraid it's the last part I have written. If you have any ideas of what you think could, might, should happen, or suggestions, questions, or comments, feel free to comment and tell me, email, or contact me via my contact info on Read Another Page. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

 

Rhode Island Story
Part 6

    “I’m afraid these shoes won’t fit you, ma’am. And Bonnie needs them. You wouldn’t want her to be without shoes, would you?”
    “Humph! She should have thought of that before she took ‘em off. They’re mine.” She waved her cane a little in a brushing motion. “Run along now.”
    “I can’t let you steal those shoes, ma’am.” Mr. Mayor’s voice had grown firm. “That’s a crime here.”
    “I didn’t steal them. I found ‘em. Now go away before I take my cane to the two of you!” She shook it threateningly, and I backed away.
    “What is your name, ma’am?”
    I didn’t know how the mayor could still be polite and not frightened, but he hadn’t even taken a step back.
    “What’s it matter to you who I am?”
    “I like to know who I am talking to, that’s all.”
    The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed her cane right at him and poked him. “My name is Copp. Mrs. Copp. And I’m telling you for the last time, go away!”
    “We will leave, Mrs. Copp, if you’ll just let Bonnie have her shoes.”
    “They aren’t her shoes no more!” Mrs. Copp screeched. “I found ‘em. They’re mine. Now git!”
    Mr. Mayor must have seen that trying to reason with the woman any more was useless, for he turned, took my hand, and walked up to the grass with me. Once we were on the road, he said, “I’m sorry, Bonnie. I’ll talk to some people and see if we can’t find out a way to get your shoes for you. Do you want me to call your uncle to pick you up?” He had let go of my hand and stopped to look down at me.
    “No, thank you. I think I can walk . . .” My voice trailed off as I thought of the long walk back to Uncle Tony’s.
    “Are you sure?”
    I nodded, determined not to cry. “Thank you for trying to get my shoes back. Maybe she needs them more than I do. Goodbye.” I didn’t look at him as I hurried away, for I didn’t want him to see the tears that filled my eyes. If only I hadn’t been so scared the first time and had stopped to pick up my shoes. If only I hadn’t gone down to the beach at all. If only I had been outgoing like my sisters and cousins and had gone with them instead of staying by myself.
    The tears overflowed and ran down my cheeks, and I didn’t try to stop them, for I didn’t think anyone would see them. Not many people traveled on the road which led to Uncle Tony’s.
    A stronger gust of wind whipped my dress about my legs and stirred the sea into angry waves which crashed against the rocks where I couldn’t see them. A few spatters of rain fell. I knew I wouldn’t make it back home before the storm hit, and I half wished I had let Mr. Mayor call Uncle Tony. But it was too late. Why couldn’t we have just gone to Grandpa’s farm this summer?
    “Bonnie!”
    I started and turned quickly, swiping at the tears with the back of my hand. My thoughts had been so busy, and the wind and waves had been so loud, that I hadn’t heard the car. It was Uncle Tony.
    “Hop in. We may make it home before the storm hits. Scoot over girls.”
    Then I noticed that all the other girls were crowded into the car as well. A door was opened, and I climbed in and pulled it shut behind me.
    The shut door closed off the sounds of nature and opened the floodgates of chatter. If only they wouldn’t notice–
    “Bonnie Dale, where are your shoes?” Lyn demanded. “Did you forget them? Are they at the house?”
    “No–”
    “You didn’t lose them, did you?” Flo put in quickly, shoving the head of one of the younger girls who was sitting on her lap to the side so she could see around her.
    I didn’t know what to say.
    “Did you give them away?” one of the cousins asked.
    Before I had a chance to answer, the heavens opened and rain descended in torrents, effectively drowning out all conversations. I sat still and watched the rain as Uncle Tony carefully drove the car up the hill and around the curves until he stopped before the house.
    “You’ll have to make a run for it, girls, or wait until the rain slackens.” Uncle Tony had to speak loudly.
    With no shoes to worry about, I opened the door and ran to the house. By the time I reached the porch I was dripping with rain.
    Aunt Betsy welcomed me with a towel and said, “Dry off a bit and then run up and change, Bonnie.”
    She didn’t notice I wasn’t wearing shoes.

    Supper time arrived and so did the questions about my missing shoes. The girls didn’t give me a chance to answer before another question was asked or someone piped up with their own reason for me not to have shoes. Finally, Uncle Tony hushed them all and said, “Bonnie, what really happened to your shoes?”
    There wasn’t anything to do but tell the truth, and so I did. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose them, but Mrs. Cobb wouldn’t give them back.”
    Uncle Tony looked at Aunt Betsy with a puzzled frown. “Cobb? Does that name sound familiar?”
    “No,” Aunt Betsy began slowly. “Wait. I seem to remember a Mr. Cobb. But he was older and lived alone over past the lighthouse.”
    Thoughtfully, Uncle Tony took a bite. He nodded and reached for his glass of water. “I do seem to remember that. Perhaps I’ll call Josiah and see if he’s found out anything. If not we can always get another pair of shoes for you, Bonnie. Don’t worry about it.”
    “Why didn’t you just take them back?” Flo asked.
    “Yes,” echoed two of my cousins. “Why didn’t you just take them from her?”
    “You could have–” Lyn wasn’t allowed to finish her suggestion, for Uncle Tony put a stop to all talk about my shoes.
    After supper, when the storm had blown over, I went outside onto the porch away from the noise of the chattering girls. Aunt Betsy had assured me that losing a pair of shoes wasn’t anything to cry over, and she was sure it would all come right in the end.

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