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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