Travels of Tracy––Autumn - Part 1

Good Morning FFFs,
I can't believe it is Friday already! That's probably because I feel like I missed a few days. I was working as an election judge on Tuesday and didn't get home until 9:30 PM after leaving the house at 5:15 AM. It was a long day. We had a total of 277 voters come to my polling place to vote. That's not very good when there are 1,667 or so registered voters in the area who can vote.
And then I didn't end up having writing classes on Wednesday so that sort of messed up my schedule. :) So . . .
But the calender says it is Friday so I suppose I will post. :) I did get a short story written. It's two parts so I have a little longer to get something else written. :)

I would have posted this a bit sooner but I had to reply to my illustrator so she could get to work on the pictures for TCR-4. :)

Speaking of writing, if any of you read and enjoyed "The Graham Quartet and the Mysterious Strangers" I need your help! In getting the book ready to publish (the front cover is done!), I realized that I had no reviews from anyone who had read the story. What I'm looking for is 1-3 sentences of what you thought of the story. Did you like it? Was it interesting? Would you recommend it? How would you describe it? Anything really. You can leave the "reviews" in a comment or send them directly to me using the "contact author" form on the side. Please be sure to include your first name and your age. If you want to put what state or province you are from, that would be an added bit of fun. But I will need these as soon as you can. Thanks!

Now enjoy this first part of another Travels of Tracy. :)

Travels of Tracy––Autumn 
Part 1

    The sky was slightly overcast and the sun was setting in the west. The ocean, stretching out until it met the distant sky, was a deep grey except for the foamy waves washing up on the sandy beach. A brisk breeze blew in through the open windows of the small, blue Road Runner, tossing the tawny curls of the driver about in mad confusion.
    “Oh, Lyn,” Tracy Linnet sighed, “why didn’t you tell me to keep my eyes on the road instead of the ocean? Now the car is stuck in the sand. Are you going to pull it out?” She turned to look at her companion who was sitting in the next seat on an old sweater washing her face.
    “You’re no help,” Tracy scolded, lifting her cat and setting her in her lap.
    Madalyn, the long haired, yellow tabby purred, placed a front paw on Tracy’s arm, and gently kneaded it with her claws.
    “Oh, you think you can push it out?” But Lyn just yawned and Tracy gave another sigh. “Well, we’ve got to do something, Lyn.”
    “Meow,” was the only thing Lyn had to say about the situation.

    Opening the car door, Tracy stepped out into the sand, her cat held in her arms. “At least I have these shoes on and not ones with heels,” she remarked, catching a glimpse of her shoes. They were wooden clogs at least two inches high with a heavily beaded strap across the foot. “I’m sure the sand must be cold on such a cloudy day in autumn. I should probably put on socks and boots or something, but I love these shoes and won’t get to wear them much longer.”
    After placing her cat on the hood of the blue Road Runner, Tracy slowly walked around it looking at the tires which were imbedded in the sand. They had only spun when she had tried to drive out, and Tracy was at a loss as to how to get traction. “I guess we are stuck.”
    Eagerly scanning the land in all directions, Tracy was at last able to make out a distant building down the shore a ways. It was a large, white building, and Tracy wondered if it could be the State Park nature center. “There must be someone there who can help me,” she mused. “If they haven’t closed and gone home. Come along, Lyn.” She picked up her cat and started across the sloping sandy shore.
    The sand looked easy to walk on, but Tracy soon discovered that what appeared to be firm ground was really shifting sand, and her shoes, with almost no tread, slid with each step. The brushy scrubs and grasses reached out brown twigs and snagged at her dress and scratched her legs with their rough edges. It took great effort to continue walking and not twist an ankle or fall completely. Suddenly a soft snap was heard and Tracy glanced down.
    “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “My shoe!”
    Something had caught in the beaded work of the right shoe and snapped the string holding the beads. Brightly colored orbs rolled off and scattered into the sand. In a frantic effort to save them, hoping she could repair the damage, Tracy dropped down and tried to pick them up. But in her hurry she only managed to hide some of them forever in the sand while sending the last few remaining beads on the shoe onto the ground. It was a difficult task, trying to pick up beads of all sizes on the sandy shore with one hand while holding her cat in her other arm.
    Tracy had read that pets were not allowed loose in state parks, and she was afraid something would happen to her beloved cat if she were to be set down even for a moment. Some wild animal might appear from nowhere and snatch her away, so she hung on tightly.
    At last, her hand full of beads, Tracy stood up. She was sure she didn’t have them all, but it was the best she could do. “And I don’t even have a pocket to put them in,” she bemoaned to Lyn.
    Lyn simply sniffed the brightly colored objects before climbing up onto Tracy’s shoulder and brushing her soft, fluffy tail across Tracy’s eyes. “Meow.”
    “I agree. We should keep moving before it grows much darker or it begins to rain.” Tracy shivered in the cool breeze. Starting forward once more, clinging to her cat and clutching her beads, Tracy slipped her way in the direction of the buildings, for, now that she was closer, she could see more than one.
    Nearing the first white building, Tracy felt something jab her left foot and then heard another snap. She let out a groan and halted. Somehow though this snap was different, and what had scratched her foot? Hardly having the courage to look, Tracy glanced down. “Oh, dear!” she wailed. Not only had the string snapped, but a larger stick had caught on the strap of her clog and pulled it loose from the wooden base.
    “I can’t walk in broken shoes.”
    She eyed the distance to the door of the building, which she could see was a nature center with a light still on inside. Gathering up part of her skirt into a sort of pouch, Tracy placed her beads inside and bent to begin to gather any more she could save from her left shoe.
    Lyn highly disapproved of Tracy’s actions and, an indignant “meow,” jumped down onto the sand where she stalked forward, her tail sticking straight up like a flag.
    “Lyn!” Tracy exclaimed, forgetting all about her shoes and the beads, and springing after her beloved pet. Alas for Tracy, her left foot, no longer secure in the clog, twisted as the shoe tipped in the shifting sand, and Tracy found herself flat on her face on the beach.

What do you think happens?

Will you be back next week?