Paths 1 & 2

 Hi!

Here are 2 short stories I wrote for 2 picture prompts at writing camp. Neither one is very long which is why you get two of them. I hope you enjoy.

I'm staying busy with writing and getting ready for camp and life, and trying to get as many extra things done as I can before camp starts and before I head to work for 2-3 weeks at the County Clerk's Office.

 

 Path 1

    The old man trudged up the winding brick road pausing at the light-post but whether to catch his breath or to wait for someone, I couldn’t tell. His coat was brown and matched the rest of his surroundings that chilly autumn day. Except for the overcast sky, the only things not drab and bare were the turquoise flower pots lining the side of the building. I wondered who the old man was and where he was going but I wasn’t fluent in the language to ask. I loved these quite brick streets that almost doubled back on themselves only on a higher level. So much more interesting than the paved black streets back home where one couldn’t pause on the stone wall and look down on the brick street you had just been on.
    Oh, I never could describe this scene. I’ve tried. My friends just send me polite messages back with things like “neat” or “how nice” but I know they can’t see it. They can’t feel the chill in the air or smell the bread and coffee from the little shop just behind me. They can’t watch the old man begin his slow walk up the road. The can’t imagine the old light posts with actual flames that get lit when darkness comes and that burn all night casting their flickering light over the uneven road. They can’t understand why my heart is here even if I don’t know the language yet. They didn’t hear the still small voice that whispered, “This is the way, walk ye in it,” that first morning I walked up this very road.
    I want to share Christ here. To love the young and the old, to laugh with the people, to cry when they do, and to live a live so that others may see my Savior.
    The old man has turned the corner and I can no longer see him. Perhaps if I get my bike which is leaning over there on the railing, I can follow the old man and at least offer him a smile.

Path 2

    Lisa stopped and set down her suitcase in the middle of the road. Early morning sunlight streamed through the trees on her right creating lines and making the green leaves of the trees shine. Even the moss growing on the ground seemed to be a deeper, richer green than she’d ever seen before.
    She drew a deep breath. Everything was fresh and clean after last night’s shower. She could smell the damp earth, the decaying leaves, and somewhere, hidden in the woods, were flowers, for she could smell their sweet perfume.
    “A fresh morning and a fresh start.”
    She glanced back the way she had come and shook her head. She was thankful to be leaving that place. Mr. and Mrs. Steel had given her a roof over her head for four years, but that was about it. Lisa had lost count of the number of times someone in the family had told her she wasn’t worth the food she ate, or reminded her that she was a charity case even though she worked from sunup to sundown.
    With a shudder at the memories of slaps, yells, little food, and worse, Lisa was ready for something different. Something better.
    Last night had been the last straw. She had packed her things into the battered old suitcase that had once belonged to her mother and stolen out of the house when everyone was still sleeping. Afraid to walk the path though the woods at night for fear she wouldn’t find the road, she had slept in the barn. When the first light of dawn had come, she slipped away and through the woods until she came to the road. She didn’t have much in her suitcase, but a few worn changes of clothes and the Bible a lady at the little brown church down in the village had given her last summer when she had ventured to see what all the talk was about. Though Lisa didn’t understand everything she read in her little Book, her heart hungered for more.
    “I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye.” Softly she repeated the verse which had led to to making the decision to leave the only home she knew and venture forth into the unknown.
    “Abraham went forth,” she whispered, “and he didn’t know where he was going. But the Lord led him.”
    Dropping to her knees there in the road, with the sunlight streaming around her, Lisa prayed. “Oh, Lord, please lead me in the way You want me to go just like You led Abraham.”

 

Which path story did you like better?

 Do you like pictures of paths?

Next month I'll have 2 more paths for you.

Don't Hang Up - Part 2

 

 

 

Don't Hang Up - Part 2

 

    “No, you’re coming with me. Leave your big gun with Seth. We’re hikers or hunters. Coen, Albert, Seth, stay under cover unless it looks like we need help. Come on, David. Let’s go.”
    With that the two men ran forward, staying low until the very edge of the woods was reached, then they slowed. There were a couple of men standing in the road looking around and arguing. Were they the ones who had made the call, or were they after the callers? Sometimes it was hard to tell.
    The men looked up as David and John strolled up. They seemed to be sizing them up. “Well, let them,” John thought, “we’re doing the same.”
    John nodded. “Afternoon.”
    “Afternoon.”
    “You men got car trouble?”
    “Naw, just waiting for the kids to get done playing.”
    “Oh, you got kids? Abandoned towns aren’t the best place for kids to roam freely. They might get hurt.”
    “What do you know about this place?”
    John shrugged and tried not to let the recognition show as one of the men turned. “Not much. It was abandoned twenty, thirty years ago, wasn’t it, Dave?”
    David nodded. “Something like that. You men from around here?”
    The men were beginning to shift restlessly, and one shook his head.
    “Nice place this mountain. But you never know who you will run into. Many an outlaw has been shot, and kidnappers, drug runners, and such have been captured in some strange fashion. Good thing you fellows aren’t any of those things.”
    Beside him, John felt David tense and glanced over to see one of the men reaching for a gun. Before he had a chance to pull it, John and David both had guns in their hands.
    “Get down on the ground!” David barked.
    “Now!” John ordered.
    Two men did as they were told, but one tried to make a break for it. The next moment he fell to the ground clutching his leg and crying in pain. John wasn’t sure if the shot had been David’s or one of the men in the woods.
    “Cuff ‘em,” John ordered quickly. “And gag that one.” He pointed to the injured man. Seth and Albert appeared from the woods as David began cuffing the men. But Coen remained hidden. John was thankful at least one of the men were still watching. He’d recognized the injured man and knew he had a brother who would most likely be fairly close, and if he heard the shots–
    “Get them out of here!”
    David and Seth half carried the injured man into the woods while Albert herded the other two prisoners in the same direction. John crossed the road to the empty post office. With one hand on the grip of his gun, he backed up and waited.
    All was silent. No sound came from the woods. Nothing moved.
    Then pounding feet came closer, and a gruff voice called, “Jerik! Where in thunder are you guys? And where’d you find them kids?”
    John gave a slight nod. He’d been right.
    “Jerik? Quit playin’ games! We’ve got to get those kids and get out of here, ‘cause if someone finds ‘em, we’ll all end up in the slammer.” The man, rather heavy and perspiring even though it was a cool day, appeared around the bend in the road. His breathing was labored.
    John waited. Waited until he’d come closer, and then suddenly he stepped from the shadows with one of his guns drawn in his hand. “Hands in the air, Damion. We already have Jerik and the others.”
    “What the–”
    “Hands in the air!” John barked.
    Damion raised his hands but glared at John. “You don’t have no one. If’n you did, where are they?”
    David stepped from the woods. “Be quiet. You talk too much.”
    “I talk too much? Ow!” Damion squirmed as John snapped handcuffs around one wrist and then jerked his arms down and behind his back with one swift motion. “Ya got to loosen ‘em. Man, this better not be a prank. If this is Jerik’s idea of a joke, I’ll push him off a cliff!”
    “Be quiet, Damion,” John said, “and maybe you’ll live to see the inside of a jail cell.”
    Instantly the man began to whimper.
    “Take him away, Dave. I have business to attend to.” John gave his prisoner a little shove to his friend and turned. He knew all about Jerik and Damion and their enterprises. This time they were going to face the music.
    Confident that the rest of his team could handle the prisoners, John broke into a jog. He knew the layout of the little town. It had been used many times in training missions. He knew just where the phone booth was.
    In half a minute he was leaning against it and pulling out his red hat. After pulling it on, he sauntered across the street saying, “Don’t hang up. Don’t hang up.”
    There was a little scrambling noise under the porch. Then a piece of lattice that once had roses growing on it moved, and a little dark head popped out.
    “Mr. Red Hat!”
    The small child stood up. Her dark hair was long and tangled, her bare arms were scratched, and she shivered.
    “Yes, Miss Judah.”
    Two other heads appeared, and two other little girls, one with brown locks and the other with red, moved up beside Judah. They were shorter and looked younger.
    “Is this all of you?” John asked.
    The three heads nodded.
    “Good. We caught the men who had you.”
    Judah’s eyes went wide. “You did? You caught them and found us?”
    “It appears that way. God helped us do both today.”
    Judah moved over and slipped her small hand into John’s larger one. “That’s because we were praying and God never hangs up!”
    John smiled. “That’s right. He never does. Now, how about we get you girls some place safe and warm and give you a good dinner.”
    “That would be nice. Are you going to knock off the bad men?” Judah asked the question so casually that John nearly choked.
    “No. We’re going to hand them over to the police.”
    “Good. It’s not nice to knock people off. They might get hurt.”
    John didn’t trust himself to speak but pulled off his jacket and put it around the smallest girl. When she lifted her arms, he picked her up, took Judah’s hand again, and started back down the road. As he passed the old telephone booth, he thought of Judah’s words. “God never hangs up.” It was a comforting thought.

 

Did it end like you thought it would?

Aren't you glad God doesn't hang up on us?

Don't Hang Up - Part 1

 If you read this post earlier. Sorry. I'd forgotten I hadn't written anything at the beginning. Did I even ask you anything? I guess I did. Anyway, life is busy. My grandpa and uncle came down for a visit on Saturday (today). I'm getting ready to head to a concert my nieces and nephews are singing in. They are "Singing through the Gospels" and I'm sure it will be good.

 

 

Don’t Hang Up

    “Don’t hang up!”
    John Steel frowned. “Oookay.” That was not what he was expecting when he’d answered the phone. “Why shouldn’t I hang up?”
    “Because I need help.”
    “What kind of help? And who is this?” The voice sounded young, but he wasn’t sure if the speaker was a boy or a girl.
    “I’m at a phone.”
    “A phone where?”
    “I don’t know. It’s in a little house that’s kind of like a box.”
    John waved Seth over and mouthed “Criss-cross!”
    Seth nodded and got to work.
    John pressed a button to record the conversation. “Maybe a phone booth?”
    The voice sounded a little excited. “Yes! I think that’s what it’s called. But please help!”
    “Okay. What’s your name?”
    “Judah.”
    “All right, Judah, why didn’t you call the police?”
    “I didn’t know their number, and there aren’t any around here. I tried 9-1-1 and it didn’t do anything.”
    John frowned. “How did you call this number?”
    “I just pushed numbers. The first three people hung up on me.”
    Seth gave a nod, and John spoke to the person on the other end. “Okay, Judah, can you tell me why you need help?”
    “Because I don’t want to get knocked off.”
    “Knocked off? As in killed?”
    “I don’t know. I just heard them talking about knocking us off.”
    “Who? Are there any others with you?”
    “Yeah, Jess and Bob. Please come help us.”
    “Judah, don’t hang up.” John had to smile to himself as he used the same words. “I need to talk to someone here about getting you help, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    Putting his hand over the mouth piece, but keeping the other part on his ear, John looked at Seth. “Where is it?” he whispered.
    “About five miles.” Seth pointed to a place on a map. “Rough terrain but doable. If we take the road it’s about twenty miles.”
    “Get the ATVs and round everyone up. We could need fire for this.”
    “Roger that.” Seth hurried away.
    “Judah,” John said, “we’re going to come get you.”
    “It’s going to have to be quick or they might find us.”
    “Can you hide anywhere where you can still see the phone booth but where they might not find you?”
    There was a long pause. “Yeah, I think so. Under the porch of the old building over there. But how will we know it’s you?”
    John nodded even though no one could see him. This kid was smart. “I’ll come to the phone booth and will put on a red hat. Then I’ll walk near the porch and say ‘don’t hang up, don’t hang up’.” He heard a giggle on the other end and suddenly wondered if Judah was a girl. “Okay?”
    “Uh huh. A red hat and don’t hang up. Got it.”
    “All right. Hang up and go hide.”
    “Bye Mr. Red hat. Thanks.”
    The line went dead.
    For a moment John stared at it. “This had better not be a prank call.” He rose and then paused. “Lord, I have a feeling we’re going to need help. Keep those kids safe if this call is for real.” Then he grabbed his camo jacket, slipped his handguns into their holsters, stuffed his red hat into his pocket, and snatched up his backpack before hurrying from the room.
    He found the men gathered below. All looked eager and ready. “Earl, stay here and man that phone. Someone could call back. If they ask for Mr. Red Hat, and talk about the porch or say their name is Judah, patch them through to my headset.” He tapped his ear. “If they don’t say anything like that, stall ‘em. Get as much info as you can and run a criss-cross. It could be the other men.”
    The gray haired man nodded sharply and hurried upstairs to the phone.
    “Seth, do you have the route planned?”
    “Yep.”
    “Good. Coen, David, Albert, be prepared to use fire if need be, but use it with caution. We have three people to evac. Sounds like they might be kids. And if this turns out to be a prank call . . .”
    His words were met with grim silence. Every one of the men knew they were risking exposure to their fellow men as well as to their entire headquarters by taking the ATVs and heading around the mountain. But if lives were in danger, they’d do it. That’s what they were trained to do.
    “All right, Frank and Leon, keep watch here. If this appears to be a set up, radio me at once.”
    “Got it.” Frank nodded.
    “Let’s get going.”
    The men almost ran to the ATVs. Their roar sounded extra loud to John’s ears. Would they warn the vultures, or would they be able to to shut them down and roll in close on silent? They couldn’t go far on electric power, but perhaps it would be far enough.
    The first three miles were covered in record speed. It was over ground all the men were familiar with, and every tree, rock and bush was well known. Then it was one mile of ground some of them had gone over a few times. This mile was slower. John and Seth led the way with the other three right behind them.
    As they started in on the last mile, John motioned to Seth. Should they cut to the electric motors?
    Seth shook his head. Not yet.
    At last, about half a mile from the abandoned town, Seth nodded, and John flipped a switch and motioned for the others to do the same. Almost instant silence followed. If anyone had been listening, they would have assumed the ATVs had stopped completely. Only the noise the tires made over the rocks, sticks, and other undergrowth would have told a different story.
    John felt his body tense as they neared the edge of the woods. He didn’t want to break cover if he could help it. A few yards in, he signaled and stopped. The others stopped too.
    “You going in alone?” David whispered.
    “No, you’re coming with me. Leave your big gun with Seth. We’re hikers or hunters. Coen, Albert, Seth, stay under cover unless it looks like we need help. Come on, David. Let’s go.”

 

Would you just dial random numbers if you needed help?

I'll have the next part next week.

Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 3

 Happy Friday!

I bring you the final part of this month's story. I hope you enjoy it. Life has been busy. Not with large word counts, but with editing and figuring out things for my stories. I also got older this week, reached 50 miles for the Spring 100, worked on blog posts, and did other things. Life is never dull and slow. At least not enough to make  me bored.

 

Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 3

    Biddy nodded and let him pick her up.
    “Hannah, here’s your pocketbook,’ Bobby said, picking up the red item. “Your hands are bleeding, want me to carry it for you?”
    “Please, Bobby.” She limped a little as she and Bobby followed Rob and Biddy across the street to a white colonial style house. Once inside, Rob set Biddy down on a chair in the kitchen and grabbed a first-aid box from a cabinet.
    “We’ll get you cleaned up and band-aids on those scrapes in no time, Rob promised the little girl with a grin. “Did you know that when I was your age I was always getting scrapes and bumps and bruises? I did it so much that my mom made me learn all about first-aid so I could bandage myself up.”
    “Do you still get banged up?” Bobby asked.
    “Yep. I play football, and sometimes we aren’t too careful.”
    Biddy whimpered as her scraped hands and knees were washed and bandaged, but she didn’t cry. Hannah was proud of her.
    “There you are. You’ll be good as new in a few days.” He grinned. “And we’ll get you a new lollipop because I’m afraid the other one won’t taste very good with dirt on it.”
    “It would be yucky,” Biddy said, smiling through her tears.
    “Sure would. Next patient?” Rob set another chair and motioned for Hannah to sit.
    “I’ll be okay,” she said. “It’s just scrapes.”
    “Yep, and you might as well let me take care of them now. It’s harder to get any dirt out if you wait. Believe me, I know.”
    “He doesn’t hurt you much, Hannah,” Biddy said. “And see how nice he put the band-aids on?”
    Seeing there was nothing to do but accept, Hannah limped to the chair and sat down.
    “Scrape your knee too?” Rob asked, turning over one of her hands and preparing to wash the scrape.
    “No.” She flinched a little. “The string caught my ankle.”
    “Ouch.”
    Hannah looked away from her scrapes and found Bobby feeding his sister another gumdrop. It was sweet and reminded her of the ants working together. Bobby was doing his part to make his sister smile again. But it also reminded Hannah that they would have to walk all the way back to the candy store and get another lollipop for Biddy. Only– And here she gave a start.
    “Sorry.” Rob looked up in sympathy. “This scrape is a little deeper and you have some dirt in it.”
    “Hannah,” Bobby said, before Hannah could reply, “Can Biddy and me go look out the window? I want to see if the boys who tied the string are there looking for it.”
    “Sure,” Rob answered for her. “But if you see them, don’t go out. They aren’t always very kind.”
    “We won’t. Come on, Biddy.”
    Hannah watched the two of them walk slowly from the kitchen and into the living room.
    “Siblings?” Rob asked.
    She shook her head. “Cousins. Spending a few weeks with us.”
    “Sounds fun. Other hand.”
    With a sigh, Hannah surrendered her other scraped hand to be cleaned and bandaged. “It’s supposed to be fun, but these weren’t exactly the birthday memories I was hoping for when we went to the candy shop.”
    “They share a birthday? Twins?”
    “A year apart.”
    “I don’t have any cousins younger than me. I’m the caboose of the family, as my grandpa likes to call me.” Rob didn’t seem to mind being the youngest. “All my brothers and sisters are older and in college or married. There, this hand is done. It wasn’t scraped badly. Now let’s see what the string did to your ankle.”
    “You don’t have to, Rob.”
    “Oh, I know, but I rather like pretending to be a doctor. I haven’t decided if that’s what I want to be yet, or if I’d rather play football in college.” He looked up and winked before gently folding down her sock. “Well, that string certainly left its mark on you! You’ll have a nice bruise and it’s probably going to be painful to walk for a few hours at least. Here, I’ll put something on it and wrap a light bandage over that.” As he talked, he worked, and soon a snug bandage covered the red mark left by the string. Sitting back on his heels he looked up at her. “Feel any better?”
    She nodded. “Thank you. We should be going now.”
    “Why don’t I drive you home in the car?”
    “Oh, I don’t want to be more of a bother. We can walk.”
    “Not very well you can’t.” Rob stood up and shut the first-aid box before going to the sink to wash his hands. “You should rest that ankle, and Biddy–isn’t that her name?–isn’t going to feel like walking much with her scraped knees.”
    What he said was true, Hannah realized when she stood and tried to walk. Her ankle throbbed and her hands still smarted. “All right.”
    Everyone was soon in the car and Rob was heading toward Main Street. When he pulled to a stop before the candy store, he said, “I’ll be right back with that new lollipop, Biddy.”
    Hannah opened her mouth to say something, but he was gone before she could.
    Soon he returned with not one, but two giant lollipops. One yellow, which he handed back to Biddy, and the other red, which he handed to Hannah. “I thought you should have one too. And this one matched your dress.” He smiled as he handed it over.
    “Thank you,” Hannah whispered, an echoing smile on her own face.
    Rob whistled the rest of the drive, but when he stopped before Hannah’s house and the younger two had climbed out, he shook his head over the quarter Hannah tried to give him. “Your lollipop was a gift, and the Janas boys will pay me for the other one since they are the ones responsible for the demise of the first one.”
    Clutching her pocketbook and her red lollipop, Hannah slid from the car. “Thanks, Rob. For everything.”
    “Any time.” With a grin and a wave, Rob drove off, and Hannah walked to the house not noticing her limp or her smarting hands. 

 

Would you rather have a slow week or a crazy one?

What kind of candy would you want to get?

Can you believe it's almost May?

Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 2

 Here's the next part of the story.

 

 

Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 2

    “Oh, I’ll tell you after you’ve looked around and picked what you want, little lady.” He winked at Hannah and straightened. “Don’t want to influence this important decision.”
    Hannah watched with a happy smile as her cousins wandered the store in a sugar daze. They stopped at each barrel, each box, each different kind and flavor and color of candy. They whispered, and Bobby pointed to the little prices on each thing.
    “You might be here a while,” Hannah,” Mr. Donald remarked in a low voice.
    “That’s all right. It’s not as much fun if you don’t get to examine every single thing and figure out what you want. If you just grab the first thing or even the third, then you’ll be left wondering what you might have missed. I don’t have anything else to do today, so let them wander. Besides,” she looked over to find the children at the far end of the store studying the boxes of chocolates, “it’s their first birthday away from their parents, so it should be extra special.”
    “That’s so. How old are they? They don’t look like twins.”
    “They aren’t. Bobby is seven and Biddy a year younger.”
    The older man nodded.
    It was more than twenty minutes before Bobby had made up his mind and picked a quarter’s worth of gumdrops. But Biddy couldn’t decide until her eyes suddenly landed on the giant lollipops sitting on the counter. She leaned closer, her eyes widening. There were purple, yellow, orange, and red ones.
    “Hannah,” the small girl whispered in an awed voice, “how much are these?” Her eyes never left the large pieces of candy.
    “Twenty-five cents.”
    “Can I have a yellow one? Please.”
    “Of course!” And Hannah opened her pocket book and pulled out two quarters.
    Mr. Donald handed a large yellow lollipop to Biddy and said, “These are what Hannah finally decided on too.”
    “You did?” Biddy’s eyes were wide.
    “Yes. Only I picked red.” She handed over the quarters, and the children clutched their candy tightly in one hand as they waved goodbye with the other. “Thank you, Mr. Donald.”
    Out in the bright sunshine, Bobby asked if he could begin to eat his candy now.
    “Yes,” Hannah said, “you may eat some of it now. Just don’t make yourself sick.”
    “I won’t.”
    Biddy patted Hannah’s arm to get her attention. “Hannah, how can I eat any of my lollipop?”
    “Why, just put the wrapper back on it when you are done.”
    Much pleased with this piece of advice, Biddy was soon licking her treat.
    “Now, do you want to walk right straight home, or shall we go a different way?”
    “A different way,” the children begged.
    “Can we go that way?” And Bobby pointed.
    Hannah agreed and they started off. She was well pleased by her little sacrifice of half a dollar and determined that her small cousins should fully enjoy their visit.
    They were in another neighborhood where large trees shaded the sidewalks, and houses looked pleasant and inviting. Looking back to see what had become of Bobby, Hannah stopped. “What did you find, Bobby?”
    He was crouched on the sidewalk watching something intently. “Some ants carrying a crumb to their home. Come see them, Hannah!”
    A quick glance showed Biddy plodding on up the sidewalk happily licking her lollipop. Knowing that Biddy did not enjoy insects like Bobby did, Hannah let her keep walking as she hurried back to look at the ants. It was indeed impressive watching the tiny ants working together to carry and drag a crumb many times larger than them, to their home.
    “God made them really strong, didn’t He, Hannah?”
    “He certainly did. And see how they help each other, Bobby?” Hannah pointed. “They don’t leave everything to just one ant.”
    A sudden scream followed by a loud wail jerked Hannah’s head up. “Biddy!” Forgetting all about the ants she jumped to her feet and flew up the sidewalk toward the girl who lay sprawled on the walk. But just before she reached her, she tripped on something that seemed to bite into her ankle and fell almost on top of her cousin. Her hands met the sidewalk and slid as she tried to catch herself.
    “Hannah!” Bobby’s voice shouted.
    “What happened?” A new voice, one that Hannah heard every day in school, called from across the street. “Is everyone all right?”
    Pushing herself up, Hannah barely looked at the boy who had joined them. “Bobby, don’t trip on that string!”
    Bobby stopped short and then stepped over the string which was stretched across the walk in such a way as to trip people. “Who puts strings across a sidewalk?” he demanded.
    Not bothering to answer, Hannah was kneeling beside Biddy. “Come on, Biddy, where are you hurt?”
    “Let me help her.”
    “Thank you, Rob.”
    Rob picked Biddy up and seated her in the grass. “Let’s see, you’ve scraped your hands and your knees, but not your nose.”
    “Where’s my lollipop?” Biddy whimpered, trying not to cry.
    Hannah looked around, but it was Bobby who found it, cracked, dusty, and broken in a patch of dirt.
    The loss of her treasured candy was more than Biddy to take, and her whimpers turned to sobs.
    “Oh, Biddy, please don’t cry,” Hannah begged, nearly in tears herself. “We’ll get you another one.”
    “I’ll share my candy with you, Biddy,” Bobby promised. “Here, open your mouth.”
    Rob looked up at Hannah. “How are you?”
    “I’ll be all right.”
    “I didn’t ask how you will be, I asked how you are.” Then, not waiting for her to say anything, he added, pulling out his pocket knife. “Those Jonas boys have gone too far.” He cut the string and pocketed it. “Come on, over to the house. We’ll get you both bandaged up and on your way again.” He knelt down beside Biddy, who was whimpering now from the pain. “Hi, I’m Rob. I go to school with Hannah. How about I carry you across the street to my house and we put some band-aids on those scrapes?”

Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 1

 Happy April!

Here's a new story for you. It's 3 parts long and I won't tell you what my editor said about it. :P Enjoy it or not.

 

 

The Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 1

    “Are we really and truly going to the candy store, Hannah? Really and truly?” Biddy, in her green and white gingham dress, clutched her cousin’s hand eagerly.
    Hannah laughed. “Yes, really and truly. Since it’s your birthday, you get to pick out a treat.”
    “And Bobby too?”
    “Of course! It wouldn’t be fair to leave Bobby out since it’s his birthday too.”
    “But he’s older than me.” Biddy gave a skip, and her brown braids, tied with yellow ribbon, bounced.
    “Where is Bobby?” Fifteen-year-old Hannah looked around for her younger cousin. “Why don’t you go find him, Biddy, while I get my pocketbook.”
    With a promise to be back soon, Biddy dashed away, and Hannah went to her room. She checked the mirror and made sure her red bow in her hair wasn’t falling out. She couldn’t help smiling at her dress. She loved red, and the white lace collar and the lace on the sleeves and pockets were her delight. Picking up her pocketbook and making sure it held the money needed for a trip to the candy store, she left her room and then sighed as the bow on the back of her dress caught on the doorknob and came untied.
    “Oh, Mother,” she said, hurrying into bedroom where Mother was putting away some laundry, “won’t you please tie my bow again? It got caught on the door.”
    “Of course. Are you going somewhere?”
    “To take Biddy and Bobby to the candy store. Remember?”
    “Oh, yes. I had forgotten you were going to do that today. It will make their day special since they can’t be at home for their birthday. Perhaps I’ll get a cake baked for them while you’re gone.”
    “Oh, Mother, what a nice surprise that would be! They’d love it, I know.” And Hannah turned and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll let them take as much time as they want picking out their candy. And maybe we’ll walk a different way home to give you more time.”
    Mother laughed and nodded. “All right. I’ll start as soon as you are safely away. Now you’d better go. I hear Biddy calling for you.”
    Hannah, pleased that Mother was getting into the spirit of making their young guests’ birthday special, hurried way, happy to do her part. “Do you have a clean shirt on, Bobby?”
    “Why do I need a clean shirt? This one isn’t dirty.” Bobby eyed his blue and white striped shirt carelessly. “We’re just going to the candy store.”
    “But you want to look nice, Bobby,” Biddy said. “Hannah and I look nice. And it’s your birthday.”
    Bobby ran his fingers through his wavy hair and snorted. “You’re girls. And if it’s my birthday, why can’t I dress as I want?”
    Fighting back the desire to laugh, Hannah motioned her cousins toward the door. “I think Bobby’s shirt is clean enough. I didn’t see any grass stains or dirt on it. Goodbye, Mother,” she called.
    Mother came to the hall. “Bye. Have a nice time.”
    The summer sunshine was bright and warm. For a time Biddy held Hannah’s hand while Bobby walked on ahead. It was fun, Hannah thought, to have two cousins to mother and play with for a time. Biddy was six and Bobby seven, and they had come to spend a few weeks at their aunt and uncle’s while their parents took a trip. Hannah didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and this new, though temporary, addition to the household was quite charming.
    “Hannah, which way now?” Bobby called from the street corner.
    “We have to cross the street and keep going straight another block, but wait for us, Bobby!”
    Hopping from one foot to another impatiently, Bobby waited. “I can cross the street myself,” he told Hannah as they crossed together. “I know how to look for cars, and there wasn’t a single car on this street.”
    “I’m sure you can,” Hannah replied with a smile, “but I didn’t want you to get too far ahead of us.”
    Mollified that he wasn’t considered a baby, Bobby slowed his pace a little and let the girls keep up with him.
    “Do you know what you are going to pick at the candy store?” Hannah asked as they neared their destination.
    “I want to see what they have,” Bobby said.
    “Me too,” Biddy agreed.
    “It might be hard to pick,” Hannah laughed. “But you can both spend twenty-five cents.”
    “On any candy?” Biddy’s eyes were large.
    “On any candy.”
    A little bell jingled as Bobby opened the door. He held it open for his sister and for Hannah who thanked him with a smile as she passed through.
    Collective gasps of amazement came from both children as their eyes traveled around the small shop where barrels and boxes, display cases and shelves held nothing but candy, candy, and more candy. There were boxes of chocolates, barrels of small candies to suck on, each onew wrapped in a little plastic wrapper. Taffy of all colors and flavors, chocolate bars, and chocolate bears, chewing gum, and chewy candies, little cakes and packaged cookies, lollipops and gumdrops. All there just waiting to be taken home and eaten until you had a belly ache.
    “Good afternoon, Hannah.”
    “Hi, Mr. Donald. These are my cousins, Bobby and Biddy. Today’s their birthday, so I brought them here to spend a birthday quarter each.”
    The older man, his hair, what little he had left, was white, and his blue eyes beamed from behind his glasses. Leaning on the counter he addressed the two wide eyed children. “Happy birthday. Did you two know that your cousin used to come in here on her birthday and get candy?”
    “Hannah did?” Bobby turned and looked at his cousin skeptically. “Was she ever as little as Biddy?”
    Mr. Donald gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, yes. She most certainly was. And every year she’d look and look and look at all the candy, but every year she always picked the same thing.”
    “What?” Biddy’s voice was hushed in awe.

Have you ever gotten to pick out candy for your birthday?

Did you get to watch the eclipse?

Do you plan to come back and read Part 2 of this story?

Bless Her Heart

 Good morning!

Happy March! Today I have a story that NONE of you have read. This story was just something I sat down and wrote. I had the first line in my head and then sort of knew the ending, but I wasn't sure what happened. It's not a long story. And no, I didn't ask any of my Southern friends for help with the accents, so if I didn't get them write, blame me. :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little piece.

 

Bless Her Heart

    “Ya’ll gottta do somethin’ with him, honey. He ain’t like other boys.”
    Mrs. Thornton smiled at Mrs. Holland’s well meaning words as she looked over at Jared. She was right. Jared wasn’t like other boys his age. He was hurt, angry, afraid.
    “My husband says,” Mrs. Angelina added, her southern accent just as strong as Mrs. Holland’s, “what that boy needs is a strong hand and a good lickin’. Of course, we ain’t blamin’ ya’ll, honey.  Why bless yer heart! We know you ain’t got the strength ta do it, you bein’ such a little thing yerself, and your husband bein’ out a town. Someone’s got ta take that boy in hand though. My husband said he don’t like mixin’ in other folks business, but under the circumstances, ya’ll understand, he’d come over any time and tend to the boy. Ya’ll jest give him a call, honey.”
    Mrs. Thornton opened her mouth but was given no chance to reply.
    “Now don’t you go an’ thank me,” Mrs. Angelina went on. “It’s the least we can do after ya’ll took in that poor orphan. Why bless your heart!”
    “And,” Mrs. Holland added, “if her Robert ain’t around when ya’ll need him, honey, my Albin won’t mind bein’ called. He knows all about boys. We had two of ‘em. Big, strong, strappin’ fellows they are too. Albin may be retired, ya’ll know, but I reckon he could still handle a boy like that one, bless his heart.” Mrs. Holland nodded in Jared’s direction.
    It was all Mrs. Thornton could do to keep her face and voice calm. “Thank you both, but I won’t be calling on your husbands for such service. Now if you’ll excuse me please, I think it’s time Jared and I headed home.”
    Both ladies murmured polite good-byes, but Mrs. Thornton heard one of them say to the other as she walked away, “Bless her heart, she doesn’t know how to deal with a boy like him.”
    “I know. Bless her heart.”
    “Lord, I didn’t know I’d need so much patience just for a visit to the park.” Mrs. Thornton gave an inward sigh and walked over to where Jared was standing sullenly by the swing set staring at the ground. Gently she brushed his shoulder with her hand. “Let’s walk home along the path by the stream, shall we?”
    Without a word, the boy turned and shuffled off beside her, his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets.
    Jared hadn’t always been like this, Marissa Thornton remembered. No, her nephew used to be a happy baby and a bright toddler. Then he lost his mother, and his father turned to drink to ease his pain, instead of to the Lord. This had wrecked the happy home the boy had lived in, and he faced hunger, cold, and his father’s quick temper. As Jared’s only living relatives, the Thorntons had opened their home to the boy when his own father had ended up dead. They were determined to show him a home filled with Christ’s love.
    It wasn’t easy. Jared often lashed out in anger when he didn’t understand or felt threatened, but never once had his new family lifted a hand against him or raised a voice in anger. Noah and Mariah prayed and loved and prayed some more. No one else seemed to understand what the boy had been through. They offered well meaning advice, but Mariah knew the scars that Jared bore were not just on his body, but on his heart as well.
    Walking along the path, Mariah was silent. Her heart was angered over the women’s comments and aching for some sign of love from the boy she now called her son.
    “Jared, look!” she whispered, leaning closer to him and pointing.
    Down by the creek a mother deer stood with her fawn. Neither acted afraid or even nervous at being watched by the silent humans on the path near them. They drank from the trickling water and then picked their way back into the woods and disappeared.
    “They weren’t afraid of us,” Mariah breathed.
    Jared looked up. “You wouldn’t hurt them.” The words were a statement, casual and calm. Then Jared did something he’d never done since he had come to live with his aunt and uncle. He slipped his hand into Mariah’s.
    Tears blurred Mariah’s vision as she gave the hand a gentle squeeze.
    Neither one said a word the rest of the way home.

*

    “Mama.”
    The quiet voice roused Mariah Thornton from her dreams. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the tall manly form sitting beside her bed. “Jared. What are you doing here?”
    His gentle fingers rested on her wrist a moment. “How are you feeling, Mama? Dad said you weren’t well.”
    “I’m all right, son. I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I ate too many of my granddaughter’s cookies.” Her eyes held mirth. “And then I got to remembering and fell asleep.”
    Jared’s hand held her old, wrinkled one. “Remembering what?”
    “Many years ago. It must have been a few months after you came to us. We had gone to the park. Dad was out of town. We saw the deer when we walked home.”
    “I remember that day.”
    “You do?” Mariah turned surprised eyes to the man sitting near her.
    “Yes. I overheard what those ladies were telling you.”
    “Oh, Jared!”
    “And,” he went on, his thumb gently rubbing her hand, “I heard what you told them. It was the first time that I felt sure I was safe. Thank you, Mama.”
    “For what?”
    “For taking me in. For seeing behind my anger to the hurt little boy that I was, and loving me. You and Dad never gave up on me. You prayed and hoped and believed, and most of all, you showed me Christ. For that I can never thank you enough.”
    Mrs. Thornton raised a hand to her son’s face. “Oh, Jared, I thank God every day for you and for your sweet and lovely wife, and for the grandchildren who brighten my days.” She started to sit up. “Now, it’s time I got up out of this bed.”
    “Not yet, Mama,” Jared said, a smile on his lips but a firm look in his eyes as he eased her back. “Dad was talking about taking you to the hospital, but he agreed to let me look at you first. You have him worried.”
    Mrs. Thornton smiled. “Dad’s always worrying over me, son.” Her eyes began to twinkle. “Or maybe he just uses it as an excuse for you to put in practice all those things you learned in medical school. Well, you needn’t bother. I’m just fine now. Just the sight of your face and the feel of your hand slipping into mine like it did so many years ago makes me feel better.”
    Jared smiled, kissed her cheek, and said, “Nevertheless . . .”

Did you enjoy this story?

Has anyone ever given you advice you didn't want?

How did you handle it?