Category Archive
The following is a list of all entries from the Sunday Stories category.
Sunday Stories: Rose – Part Three
I’m loving these Sunday Stories because I’m so lazy that it makes me smile to just copy and paste a story into a blog entry and call it a blogging day. đ Haha… But seriously, it makes me smile to read through this story that I wrote when I was twelve! Way back when I knew nothing about writing or editing or the publishing process, and I was just writing because it made me happy. đ
Hope you enjoy this week’s installment! Let me know what you think in the comments!
Chapter Three:
The sweet smell of rain and grass envelops me as I squeal and toddle across the field of bright red flowers. She giggles and chases after me, her bright eyes sparkling with laughter. She scoops me up in her arms and spins me around. âCome here, my little rose,â she calls. She collapses onto the bed of flowers beside me and closes her eyes. The rain trickles down my little face as I watch her. Her red curls clung to her cheeks. She opens her mouth and tilts up her head. Sheâs singingâan old Irish lullaby, her voice softly lilting. My pudgy hands reach out and grasp a flower. I lay it on her stomach and wait. She slowly opens her eyes and smiles at me. âI love you, Rose,â she whispers. Her voice is soft and warm. Just like I remember it.
I woke up to a rosy glow coming from the window. The beams of light fell on the cold bedroom floor. Beside me Annie peacefully dreamed away.
It was the first time Iâd been alone since I got to America. I stared at the ceiling in silence.
The remnants of my dream faded away. I desperately searched my mind, longing to remember what she looked like again; what she smelled like; what she sounded like.
I sighed and rolled over, wiping the tears from my eyes. What is the point of dreams? They do nothing except remind you of the things you will never remember.
I shivered and tucked the blanket under my chin.
I tried to remember what it was Mama had said about what happens after you die, but I couldnât recall ever talking about it.
Where was she? Floating around in some distant land on a little cloud; or lying under the ground somewhere?
My mouth made some kind of strangled sigh that made Annie roll over. Her long eyelashes cast shadows on her pale cheeks; her lips tilted in a smile. She mumbled something in her sleep.
I rolled my eyes. What are you thinking, Rose? You know thereâs not a God. I crossed my arms and twisted up my lip. I refused to believe a so-called âlovingâ person would let children be made orphans and parents be made childless.
I grunted again. Annie wiped her nose drowsily. My bitter thoughts slowly seeped away.
Itâs such a shame to have to awaken peaceful souls and make them face reality.
âGood morning, Annie,â I whispered. âWake up.â
Annie rustled and yawned. âRose?â Her voice was soft and sleepy. She paused thoughtfully. âWhy does my face feel warm and fuzzy? The rest of meâs so cold.â
I looked at the beams of sunlight spreading colorful rays all over the room. âYouâre probably getting that heat from the sun. It looks beautiful.â
âOh,â Annie climbed out of bed and felt her way to the window. She touched the glass. I pulled my knees up to my chest and watched her. âIt is warm,â she said, pausing. âRose, what does it look like? Is there a rainbow in this room?â
I started. Slowly, I put my knees down and tried to think of what to say. âWell, Iâm not really good at describing things. You probably wouldnât like it.â I sighed. Pathetic.
Annie frowned. âPlease try.â
I bit my lip. âWell, a rainbow really isnât a certain color or mood. Itâs lots of colors, so it has lots of moods.â So far, so good. âItâs warm, like a fire, but itâs also cool like winter.â I paused, wondering whether to go on. âIâd like to think of a rainbow as looking like something different, though. To me it feels like love. Like yours and Jenny and Patrickâs love, and my love, and Aunt Catherineâs love. Thatâs what rainbows feel like, which is even more important then how they look.â My eyes welled up with tears. I was thankful Annie couldnât see them.
She walked across the room and touched my cheek. Could she feel the wetness? âThank you, Rose,â she said sweetly before she kissed me and felt her way out of the room.
I stared at the doorway long after sheâd left.
*
âWho are you?â The small man squinted at me and Jenny. His breeches were ill-fitting and his vest was halfway opened. With every word he spoke spit flew in our faces.
I winced and wiped it off my cheek. How pleasant. âAs I said, Iâm Rosalyn Keegan, and this is Jenny Moore. We just arrived from Ireland yesterday.â I folded my hands and tried to look professional.
Mr. Jenkins grunted. âOf courthe. I could tell that the moment you opened your mouths.â He bent over his paperwork. âI thuppose you want a job, eh? Well, thith is the plathe to be if youâre Irith or black. I thuppose Iâll give you the thpoths.â He looked up and stared into my eyes. âYouâll haf to thtart tomorrow.â
What? I bit my lip and kept my hands from wiping the spit off my forehead. âWeâre available any time, sir.â
âGood,â Mr. Jenkins had a hungry look in his beady eyes. âYeth, very good.â He rubbed his hands together greedily. âYouâll need to work thwelve hourths a day, of courth, not counting your one hour lunch break from 12:00 to 1:00.â
âOf course,â Jenny said.
âGood. Iâll thee you two at 7:00 thomorrow morning.â The small man leaned back in his chair. âYou are dithmithed.â
I smiled victoriously and marched out the door. Thank you!
*
 âRose, wake up!â Jenny threw up the covers and shook me hard. âRose, itâs almost 6:30. Wake up or weâre going to be late!â
âWhat?â I sat up with a start, and managed to knock Jenny in the head. Ugh. I lay back down.
âOuch! Be careful where you swing that thing.â Jenny rubbed her forehead, a hint of a smile on her lips.
âJenny! Why didnât you get me up earlier?!â I moaned.
âI tried to, but you sleep like a log.â Jenny laughed and smoothed down her dress.
Ugh. She must have gotten up thirty minutes ago.
Jenny smiled and sashayed to the wardrobe. âWhat do you wish to wear today, mâlady? Shall we go with the pauper style?â
 I jumped out of bed and threw on a calico dress. âHelp me button it!â My voice was half sleepy and half impatient. I canât believe this. We canât be late on our first day!
Jenny fumbled over the little buttons on the faded blue dress. âBe patient; I canât when youâre so jittery,â she laughed, slapping my arm lightly.
âSorry, but youâve got to hurry. I canât imagine what Mr. Jenkins will do to us if weâre late!â I tapped my foot. Oh, come on, Jenny. âCanât you go any faster?â
Jenny turned me around and smirked. âRelax, Rose. Weâll get there on time.â She buttoned the top of the dress and patted my back. âAnd a good word never broke a tooth,â she added sternly.
âThanks for helping me,â I sheepishly offered.
âYouâre welcome. Now pull back your hair.â Jenny handed me a ribbon and opened the door. I smiled and pulled the comb through my tangled red locks.
âAre you two leaving?â I turned to see Annie sitting up in bed. Her hair was ruffled but she smiled slightly.
âOh, good morning.â Jenny said softly. âYouâre up early.â
âYou woke me up by accident.â
âSorry,â I cringed. âWe have to leave, though. The factory opens in twenty minutes.â
âOh. Have a good first day.â Annie smiled.
 *
âYou girlth will be working right here.â
I dodged the rain of spit and tried to smile.
âThith ith Ida Mann.â Mr. Jenkins grabbed the shoulder of a young colored girl, who looked about my age. âSheâll sthow you how the mathines operate. Ida,â Mr. Jenkins motioned to us and walked away.
âHello, Iâm Rosalyn Keegan and this is Jenny Moore. Weâre from Ireland.â I smiled warmly.
âI know.â Ida said shortly, turning to the machine. âThis is pretty simple. All you have to do is this.â Her hands wove the thread so quickly that all I could do was blink.
I tried to ignore her frosty glare and think positively. Oh, well, Iâm sure Iâll get it sooner or later.
âUm, could you show us that again?â Jenny peered at the machine.
âWhat are you-blind?â Ida pouted.
I felt my blood heat up. Whatâs wrong with her? I frowned. She looked like one of the orphans in Ireland last summer who had been stung by a bee and someone asked her how she felt.
âThere.â Ida wiped her hands on her dress when she finished. âNow that was the last time Iâm going to show you. If you have any questions, ask someone else.â She turned on her heel and stomped away.
I stared at the loom with no idea what to do. This may be harder than I thought.
*
I sat on the windowsill and gazed outside. It had been such a long day.
âRose, are your arms sore?â Jenny lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
âHmm?â I turned and smiled. âNo, Iâm perfect, as always.â
âYou mean youâre not achy at all?â
âOf course not.â I rubbed my arm unconsciously. I looked down and quickly folded my hands.
âLucky.â Jenny massaged the small of her back. âI feel like I got caught in a water mill and have been turning around and around between bars all day.â She laughed and limped over to where I sat. âWhat are you looking at?â
I motioned out the window. The moon hung from the sky like a big white gumdrop shining above us, peering through the storm clouds. Huge, dark buildings loomed in the distance. Smoke rolled out of chimney tops. Rain poured down, illuminated by the street lights below.
I sighed. âAmerica. Itâs so big, isnât it? Aunt Catherine said that America is massive compared to Ireland.â I shivered. âItâs scary to think about it. This country goes on forever while Ireland seems so small and unimportant compared to it.â
Jenny sat down beside me. âIt makes you feel humble. God made this world so huge but compared to it weâre tiny specks of dust. Someday weâll die, and this world will go on; but no one will remember us.â
We looked at each other and I could feel teardrops forming in my eyes. Â This isnât like me. I looked away.
âRose,â Jenny whispered, âI donât know if now is the perfect timeâŠbut, are you ready to tell me about how your parents died?â
I was almost ready to say no. But the tightness in my chest stopped me. I squinted to find the big sea. It was no more than a thin line in the distance. I touched the windowpane. Icy cold. I pulled my fingers away. âThereâs not much to say.â My voice was little more than a whisper. âMy mother was a wealthy young lady. My father was a shoe maker. They fell in love, despite her parentsâ wishes. Then she ran away with him. Her family disowned her.â I followed a raindrop with my finger. âMy mother found out she was pregnant. My father left her. We lived alone until I was four. Then she died. Just like that, she was gone.â I let my hand fall. âI wasnât even there. I donât even know how she died. The people from the orphanage came to get me the next day, after my grandparents refused me.â
Jenny was silent. Well, she coughed a little.
I fought the tears running threatening to run down my cheeks. âI donât remember her at all.â My voice broke.
Jenny reached out to touch my hand.
I ducked my head and wiped my eyes. âWhen I was a child,â I said softly, laughing a little. âI had a quite romantic attachment to this battered old grave in the orphanageâs cemetery, under a weeping willow tree. It must have been decades old: weathered and desolate, with no name or date written on its surface.â I smiled at the memory. âIâd dress in my black cotton dress and bring a pure white rose to adorn it with. And Iâd cry and pray over the body within until my face was red and soggy.â I looked down. âIn my dreams, that body always belonged to my mother,â I whispered.
âWas she a Christian?â Jenny said suddenly.
âWhat?â
âWas she a Christian? Aunt Catherineâs a Christian. She says that when they die they go to heaven.â Jenny looked genuinely curious, not at all like she was purposefully trying to provoke me.
I tried to hide the bitterness in my voice. âMy mother was not a Christian.â I donât think. âAnd neither am I. I donât believe in God.â I felt a strangled wave of hot anger flash through me. âAnd if He is I hate him!â I burst out, choking down my tears.
âLady, HoneyâŠâ Aunt Catherine stopped in the doorway. She glanced at the two of us and seemed to reconsider what she was about to say.
âMaybe Iâd better go get the others and weâll all say a prayer together before we go to bed.â She turned on her heel and left. âSugar! Sweet pea!â
I bit my lip, ashamed of the words Iâd blurted out. I didnât really hate God, did I? I lifted my chin. No, because there is no God to hate.
Jenny smiled and pressed my hand. âI wonât tell anyone, Rose.â
About my parents or my problems? âThank you.â I self-consciously rubbed my puffy eyes. âWhy, look at us! Aunt Catherine must think weâre crazy.â
âYou are crazy!â
I nudged her playfully, and she nudged me back.
Aunt Catherine came into the room again with Pattie and Annie. âChildren,â she reprimanded with mock seriousness. âLet us settle down and pray.â
We soberly sat up, folded our hands, and bowed our heads. âOur father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.â
I looked around. Jenny was right about the Moores being a religious family. Even Annie and Pattie sat perfectly still, heads bowed and eyes closed. I looked down guiltily and closed my eyes.
âGive us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever and ever. Amen.â
To be continued…
Sunday Stories: Rose – Part Two
So it’s absolutely fitting that we’re reading a story about an Irish orphan on today, of all days. (Because it’s St. Pattie’s Day–duh!) I personally could care less about it being March 17th and all that, but it was kind of cool when I woke up to the sound of my dad blasting our old “Irish Tenors” cd and all I could think about out was how many times I played that on repeat when writing this novella. Kind of cool…
Anyway, if you need a refresher on the first chapter, you can find it here. Enjoy!
Chapter Two:
Ellis Island. âIsle of Tears.â I glanced at the Statue of Liberty curiously.
âJenny!â I suddenly shouted as the tidal wave of people pushed me away from her. She grabbed Pattie and Annie with one hand, and with the other she reached out and clutched my threadbare coat. I turned and fought through the crowd to get back to them, holding my hat on with my spare hand. Iâm beginning to think this is more dangerous than the boat.
âORDERLY LINES!â someone bellowed.
Annie gave an uneasy laugh. âJenny, the ocean has come on shore with us and is knocking us around.â
Jenny chuckled and glanced at me. âAye.â She sweated nervously. âWe all have to stick together.â
We? The word sent thrills down my back. I was part of a âweâ. I nodded eagerly.
âRose,â Jenny continued, âYou make sure that nothing happens to Pattie. Iâll take care of Annie. Whatever happens, just stay right behind me and try not to get separated. If we doâŠâ
A jab from somebody sent Jenny and Annie forward, leaving me and Pattie behind. I grabbed his hand and elbowed my way forward.
âI donât need you to look after me!â Pattie shouted over the loud noise, trying to jerk free.
âDo you want to get left behind, taken away, and locked up in an orphanage all alone in a strange land?â I shouted back, rolling my eyes. I felt him squeeze my hand a little.
The noontime sun shone high, its heat pounding down on my back. I squirmed, my hair sticking to my neck.
We were shoved into a large brick building. I looked around and gawked. All around me were hundreds, maybe thousands, of immigrants, all arriving on different boats and speaking different languages.
The Americans pushed us into line and passed out letters to put on our coats and bags. Then we entered a massive room with dozens of lines of people. At the front of the line, men in white coats probed the immigrants and looked them over. Children screamed while mothers whispered frantically in strange languages. The two families in front of us were babbling away in what sounded like Polish and German. I leaned forward and tried to guess what they were saying. What a lovely trip, John. Yes, beautiful country, Mary. Such smart white coats these doctors wear here. Yes, Mary, theyâre not terrifying at all.
Pattie gave my hand a little squeeze. I looked down at his dark hair and smiled.
After a few hours, the men in white coats finally got to us. âName!â the sweaty doctor yelled, shining a bright light in my open mouth.
âRothalyn Keegan.â The words were difficult to say with cold steel on your tongue.
I flinched as he poked and prodded my body. âWhere are you from? Can you read? Where are you going? Whereâs your family? Have you ever been in jail?â
I nodded or shook my head after each question, holding my breath and praying for it to be over soon.
Finally he gave the four of us one last look-over before shoving us on. âNext!â
I heard a lady scream as her daughter was led away with an X on her coat.
Annie shivered. âI didnât like him, Jenny.â She grabbed Jennyâs arm and clung to it. âHis voice was mean.â
âShhh. I know.â
Pattieâs mischievous smile upturned half of his mouth. âI came awfully close to telling him that if I wasnât already insane he sure was going to make me,â he whispered.
I gave a surprised laugh. âAye, Pattie. But be careful,â I whispered back, âEven little pigs have big ears.â I wiggled my eyebrows.
He smirked and I dared to ruffle his hair. I think that being with this family is the start of a great adventure.
We grabbed our bags and pushed open the door that lead to New York. My adventure was just beginning.
 *
Jenny brushed the dirt off her skirt and grabbed Annieâs hand as she stepped off the ferry. âBe careful, Annie. There are a lot of careless people here.â She glared at a man who had nearly run her over.
âIâll say. Did you see that rude girl?â I asked. âShe knocked me right off the ground and didnât even apologize about it.â My blood boiled.
Jenny raised an eyebrow. âI wouldnât have thought that you of all people would be concerned about being knocked over. You seem to be in the practice of it yourself.â
I held my hands out sheepishly. âWill you ever let me free of that one little incident? It was a mistake.â
Jenny smiled forgivingly. âBesides, maybe she was in a hurry. We donât know what her reason could be.â
I shrugged. She didnât seem very sorry about it.
âBesides,â Jenny continued, âWhy worry about whatâs already happened?â She turned to Pattie. âPattie, would you….â He was in complete awe. Jenny tapped him teasingly. âPatrick, what is it?â
âLook at it all,â he whispered.
I turned.
It was so big. The buildings seemed to extend forever, nearly touching the sky. A smelly, black fog covered the air with a thick blanket. People bustled everywhere, bumping into each other and talking loudly. Dirty children ran barefoot down the alleys, and pale men sat on the corners.
I gawked up at New York City. This is America, the beautiful?
âWhat does it look like?â Annie asked.
âUm, itâs very crowded,â Patrick stammered, looking at us for guidance.
âI can hear that. But what does it look like?â
My head was racing. âWell, Iâve certainly seen things moreâŠattractive,â I offered pitifully.
âItâs sort of dirty,â Jenny bit her lip. âThere are a lot of children running through the streets, and, well, poor men sitting on the corners with tin cans in their laps.â She took a deep breath. âThereâs a giant building in the distance and itâs making smoke as dark as death. Itâs not as lovely as Ireland, Annie.â
Annie bent her head.
âDonât worry, Annie,â I said brightly, âNothing can be as pretty as Ireland! You know that.â I tousled her hair.
Jenny smiled at me gratefully. âAye,â she continued, âAnd no use crying over something we canât change. We might as well find Aunt Catherine and Uncle Gerald.â She turned and laughed. âWhy, thereâs Aunt Catherine now!â She waved at her aunt and grabbed Annieâs arm.
Patrick frowned. âWhatâs wrong with her?â he muttered.
Their Aunt Catherine stood about twenty yards from us. She wrung her hands and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. She wasnât very beautiful; but she was certainly grand; with a sort of motherly look about her. Her hair was turning gray and her green eyes had begun to fade. Her body bulged here and there, and a few wrinkles graced her face.
She must have been very pretty when she was younger. I looked her over carefully as we rushed across the streets. Now she looks more like the aunt that parents warn their children about: Donât eat too many sweets, be sure to go to bed on time, wash your hands whenever youâre done playing outside; and above all: Donât listen to your aunt when she tells you otherwise. I chuckled a little under my breath.
âChildren,â Aunt Catherine cried in a strange accent when they were closer. âOh, children, come give your Aunt Catherine a hug!â She spread out her arms and enveloped the children in an embrace, crying freely. âOh, youâve all gotten so big! I havenât seen you, Jenny, since you were six years old. Youâve grown into such a beautiful young lady!â She wiped her eyes and hugged Jenny again. âItâs so wonderful to see you again, Lady.â Lady?
âAunt Catherineâs from the South,â Jenny whispered to me once she was free. âUncle Gerald is from Ireland.â
That explained the funny accent.
Aunt Catherine turned and faced Pattie. âAnd is this handsome young man our little baby Patrick?â she drawled. He shrugged his shoulders, dodging her glance. âWell, sugar, arenât you going to give your Aunt Catherine a hug?â She held out her arms expectantly.
âNo,â he replied. Jenny kicked him in the shins, but he remained sullen.
âOh.â A shadow crossed Aunt Catherineâs face, but she quickly turned to Annie. âAnd who is this pretty young thing? This couldnât be Annie, the beautiful little girl I heard about?â
âYes, maâam.â Annie curtsied in the direction of Aunt Catherineâs voice.
âWhy sheâs just a little doll now, isnât she?â Aunt Catherine gave Annie a little squeeze. âI believe that you and I are going to become very good friends, sweet pea.â
âAunt Catherine loves nicknames,â Jenny whispered again. I hid my smile.
Aunt Catherine turned away. âCome along, children. I suppose Iâll take you to my homeâif you could call it that. When I grew up, in the South, a house was a homeâŠâ They began to walk away from me chattering.
I longingly watched them take a few steps before sighing to myself. Well, I suppose Iâll have to find someplace to start anew. I turned and looked around.
Suddenly, Jenny was at my side. âIâm so sorry, Rose. I completely forgot about you.â She grabbed my elbow and pulled me to her aunt. âI want you to meet Aunt Catherine.â She presented me and smiled widely.
Aunt Catherine straightened and peered down at me. âWho is this?â
âRose Keegan, miss.â I curtsied.
âWe met her on the boat,â Jenny explained. âAnd I figured her curls complimented my brown hair quite well, so, for vain reasons, I decided to keep her around.â She smiled at me teasingly.
Aunt Catherine looked me up and down. âWell, she is very beautiful. Iâm not sure about that red hair, though. Have you got a terribly feisty temper, dear?â She paused and raised an eyebrow at me. My skin flushed. She smiled, satisfied, and gave me a hug as well. âWell, that pretty blush just gives it all away. I do believe that you and I will get along together quite well, honey.â
I smiled at Jenny. Â I like her already.Â
âSo where are you going to stay, honey?â Aunt Catherine pulled away and beamed at me.
âIâŠI donât know. I ran away from the orphanage in Ireland.â
Aunt Catherineâs eyes softened and she took my hand. âI was an orphan, too, honey. But I never did run away, though. Guess I never got the courage. Never was a gutsy girl; though you wouldnât know it now.â She winked cheekily. âSo what made you do it?â
I froze. âIâŠI just decided that I needed to leave.â Why do all these people ask so many questions?
Aunt Catherine looked a bit confused, but she brightened quickly. âWell then, honey, I guess youâll have to stay with us. If Lady trusts your character, than so do I.â She held my hand and Annieâs and gazed at us all tenderly.
âOh, thatâs okay. Iâll just rent out a place somewhere. I donât know how long Iâll be staying in New York, anyway.â
âNonsense,â Aunt Catherine shook her head. âYou must stay with us. I insist on it.â
It was no use arguing with her. I tried to smile happily.
âHow old are you?â Aunt Catherine continued.
âEighteen.â
âAh, Ladyâs age! It will be good for her, having someone else her age to talk with.â She stroked Jennyâs hair affectionately. âI know, when I was a girlââ
Jenny rolled her eyes at me. âWell, Aunt Catherine,â she teased, âWhen will Uncle Gerald be coming to see us?â
Aunt Catherine suddenly burst into tears. âOh, Gerald!â she sobbed, holding her hand to her mouth.
Oh, no. Whatâs wrong now? Pattie and I shared a questioning glance. I shrugged. I donât know.
âAunt Catherine, whatâs wrong?â Jenny asked gently.
Her auntâs shoulders shook. âGerald died last week,â she whispered, âIâŠI meant not to tell you. To let you be happy for the first few moments of your new life. But then you said his name andâŠâ She let out a snivel and wiped her eyes, throwing back her head dramatically. âIâm afraidâŠheâŠhe went to the factory to work andâŠ.and,â She broke into sobs again. We stared at her silently.
âAunt Catherine, you must be joking.â Jenny said; but she wrapped her arms around her aunt.
âItâs no joke, Lady!â Aunt Catherine bawled, âThere was a terrible accident at the factory and he didnât survive. Everythingâs gone wrong since then. Some awful men came to my house yesterday and said that if I didnât give them all the money that Gerald owed them by next week, theyâd kick me out and sell my house!â
Somewhere, from a distant ally, I heard screams. I frowned. What is this terrible country?
Pattie and Annie glanced at me, confused.
âOh, Lady, it was so much money!â Aunt Catherine continued dramatically. âIâd planned not to tell you just yet. I wanted you to enjoy at least one day in America happily. I donât even know why God brought you from Ireland, only to kill you here!â
âWeâre all going to die,â Jenny whispered, and wrapped herself up in Aunt Catherine’s arms. Annieâs eyes began to water, and even Pattie rubbed his face on his shirt.
Suddenly, the bubble burst and all four of them burst out in tears.
A gust of smog filled the air, and I began to cough. Oh, for heavens sakes! Canât anyone here think logically instead of bawling their eyes out? âListen here!â I shouted, surprised to hear my voice sounding so cross and firm. I shook my head to clear it and continued, âLook at you! This is ridiculous! This is America, Jenny! America, Pattie! Have you no pride? No vision? The land of opportunity!â I took a deep breath. âSurely it canât be so hard to find a job for Jenny and me, Miss Catherine.â
Aunt Catherine sniffed. âJobs?â she whimpered.
âOh, for the love of Pete!â I rolled my eyes.
âJobs!â Aunt Catherine grew excited. âThatâs it! Children, I have come up with the perfect answer! Lady,â She took Jenny by the shoulders and beamed, âYou and Rose will get jobs in a factory!â She glanced at me. âOh, and call me âAunt Catherineâ, honey.â
*
âSo this is your house?â I looked around the small apartment. The walls were bare, and there was no furniture except for a small table, chair, and a bed. Jenny had a frozen smile on her face. I couldnât blame her; the orphanage was looking luxurious.
âYes,â Aunt Catherine lit a lamp sheepishly. âThere are two beds upstairs, though. I think maybe one of you should sleep with me, one should bunk with Sweet Pea, and my Sugar will sleep alone.â
âStop calling me âSugarâ,â Patrick mumbled, glaring and dodging her touch. I almost choked on the laugh I was trying to hold in. Why was everything so funny all of the sudden?
âPattie,â Jenny whispered. There was fire in her eyes.
If one more person talks I solemnly believe the floodgates will burst and Iâll end up laughing hysterically and shaming myself to the ends of the country.
âWell, you know the old proverb: a cabin with plenty of food is better than a hungry castle. Iâll sleep with Annie upstairs.â My voice squeaked slightly. I smiled and pushed a stand of red hair behind my ear.
âI knew youâd agree, Honey.â Aunt Catherine said pleasantly.
Jenny frowned. âDo you think that those men you were referring to will give us a little extra time to make that money?â
âI donât know, Lady,â Aunt Catherine shrugged. âMaybe you and Honey should go down there tomorrow and see.â
âIs that okay with you, Rose?â
âAye,â I tossed my head carelessly. âWho could say no to me?â
Jenny giggled and nudged me playfully. We climbed up the stairwell, laughing.
âSweet pea,â I heard Aunt Catherine say to Annie, âThose two are going to become the best of friends.â
To be continued…
Sunday Stories: Rose – Part One
So this new addition of Sunday Stories is really dear to me. It’s the first ever novella I wrote, way back when I was about twelve or thirteen, I think? I’m pretty sure it dates back to 2008 but I’m not entirely sure. Anyway, I used to have a really affection for Irish culture for some reason, and I thought nothing was more beautiful and romantic than an utterly clichĂ©d story about a red-headed Irish orphan. *cringe* Hey, at least I can laugh about it now!
Anyway, I’ll post a chapter a week every Sunday until it’s all finished! And then you all can decide if this is a good story, or a cute attempt of a thirteen-year-old girl to write something sentimental and sweet. I love hearing your comments, so comment away!
Chapter One:
Ireland, 1901
My heart raced as I leaned against the cold, brick wall. I crept down the stairs, carpetbag in hand, hugging the wall. Creak. An old, worn step groaned. I held my breath. Did anyone hear?
A few seconds confirmed that no one had. Silently, I tiptoed down the hall and paused at the door. Should I go through with it?
I could feel my heart pounding as I pulled the key Iâd swiped from Mrs. Brown out of my apron pocket and unlocked the door. Noiselessly, I snuck out and ran down the road to the rickety gate. I pushed it open and ventured out into the realm of freedom.
My steps left footprints in the dusty road; each step leading a little closer to the dream of being free. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of the moonlit autumn breeze.
I turned and looked at the old orphanage one last time. The iron gates closed with a loud creak. I tossed my dark red hair and stamped my foot, sending up a cloud of sand from the Irish path. Whoâs laughing now? âHa! Ha! Ha! Me!â I grabbed my bag and ran. I skipped down the road, swinging my bag and giggling hysterically. Iâd never felt so carefree and happy.
I knew the way down the road in the dark, climbing over the short stone wall and brushing dust off my cotton dress.
I needed to escape. Iâd lived in the orphanage for as long as I could remember. Years of sorrow, pain, and forgotten memories surrounded me. Â
I paused at the bend and reached into my skirt pocket. Eighteen years didnât amount to much, but the money was enough to get me out.
America.
That was the only thought that had been resounding in my head for the past three weeks. Ever since I snuck out during Easter service to barter for my passport.
I continued to make my way in the moonlight, the dew dampening my dress.
America.
Finally free, I reached the dirt road and pranced down it to the boating dock.
 *
The dock was unusually crowded the next morning. âUm, excuse me,â I clutched my bag close to my chest, âCan anyone help me?â A bump in the shoulder was all I got in response. More than a little upset, I glared at the offenderâs back. âExcuse me!â Silence. Frustrated, I stomped my foot in an angry huff.
âYou there!â A man with a thick red beard suddenly grabbed my arm. âLet me see your passport.â My arm ached but I managed to grab my passport and show it to him.
âHere.â My heart pounded. I placed a hand on my chest, willing it to slow down.
He snatched the passport and examined it quickly. âYouâre good to go.â He ripped the money out of my hand and shoved a ticket in its place. I was pushed onto the boat, in the midst of hundreds of anxious people.
âWatch it!â A lady shouted, shoving me out of her way.
I stuck my tongue out at her back. Childish, Rose, I chided myself instantly, straightening my back and trying to politely push through the crowd.
Iâm not quite sure how, but I ended up on the south deck, facing Irelandâs rolling green hills. Before I knew it, the boat was pushing off at an alarming rate. I gripped the railing and turned away. I might never see it again. The thought echoed through my mind.
I looked around the deck and paused, trying to sort through my thoughts amid the buzz. There were so manyâyoung and old, some rich and most poor.
Just as I was observing the lack of other redheads on deck, someone shoved me violently from the side, sending me off balance. I stumbled into a young lady standing by the side of the ship. âOof!â My weight pushed the girl onto the ground, and I landed ungracefully on top of her.
âOh, my!â The young lady whispered under her breath, trying to lift her head. âAm I under attack?â
I frowned at her, quite alarmed. She seemed about my age, with long dark hair and milky white skin. Humor twinkled in her big brown eyes.
The girl was very calm and collected, even after being knocked to the ground.
The very opposite of me: a tall, skinny girl with dark red curls and bright green eyes. She looked composed and unruffled; I was wild and fiery.
I scrambled to my feet, and then helped the girl regain her posture. I took a quick glance around. The sight of two young ladies in a heap on deck had drawn a great deal of attention.
âIâm very sorry,â the young lady began.
âOh, no, Iâm sorry,â I interrupted, âThat was very, very clumsy of me. I hope youâll forgive me.â Oh, I must be a sight. I touched my disheveled hair and placed my bag on the ground.
The girl raised an eyebrow. âItâs no problem, miss.â With a final amused grin, she turned back into the crowd, grabbing the hands of a young boy and girl.
Watching them leave, I felt little bit of my initial excitement deflate. Nonetheless, I held my chin up and looked around for help. An important-looking man leisurely leaned against the wall on the far side of the deck. I made my way to him. âExcuse me, sir. Do you know where Iâm supposed to sleep?â
The man briefly tipped up his hat to look at me before putting it back in place and closing his eyes.âIn the cabin with all the other women and children, I suppose.â He grunted and folded his arms, obviously intent upon sleeping.
I waited for him to continue, rocking back and forth on my heels. Realizing heâd dozed off again, I said loudly, âUm, would you please tell me where that is?â I gave him my most dazzling smile, but he didnât seem to notice. This is awkward. I resisted the urge to lean in close and tilt up his hat to see if he was even awake. After a few moments, I cleared my throat and repeated the question.
He sighed and looked at his wristwatch. âReally, sometimes I havenât the slightest idea what you Irish people are saying. Could you please repeat the sentence?â He folded his arms and settled back against the wall. But at least this time he was watching me.
I took a deep breath and slowly repeated, through gritted teeth, âWould you please tell me where that is?â
âWhere what is?â
I groaned. âThe cabin!â
He sighed. âHere we go again,â he muttered.
âUgh!â I stamped my foot. I strangled down the urge to stand on tip-toe and shout the question into his ear.
âI think sheâs asking where the sleeping quarters are.â A voice with only a slight Irish accent spoke out from behind me. I turned to find the dark haired lady smiling at me.
The man nodded briskly. âJust to your right, down those stairs.â He licked his lips and returned to his nap.
I made a face at him, childish or not, before turning to thank the girl. âHow couldâŠâ To my horror, she was already walking away.
At the sound of my voice, though, she turned to me expectantly.
What now? âI, uh, didnât introduce myself back there. Iâm Rosalyn Keegan, but you can call me Rose.â I smiled and extended my hand, hoping the introduction was enough to start a conversation.
Slowly she shook it, her dark eyes glancing over me curiously. âIâm Jenny Moore, and these are my siblings, Annie and Patrick. But you can call Patrick âPattieâ.â She motioned to the children standing to her right. The young boy looked about fourteen or fifteen and reasonably healthy, but the girl was hardly more than a breath of air. She clutched Jennyâs hand and smiled over my head.
I frowned before realization hit me. Oh, sheâs blind. I straightened and tried to grin. âWell, now that weâre acquainted Iâm sure weâll all be good friends.â The boy named Patrick was glaring at me. I cleared my throat nervously. âOnce again, Iâm very sorry about my careless blunder. This ship is something, I tell you! People everywhere, not looking where theyâre going or what theyâre doing. Someoneâs going to get hurt!â I said in a rush. âWell, I mean, you almost got hurt, butâŠâ Almost immediately, I felt my face flush. Oh, I did it again!
âAye,â Jenny said quietly.
Did she agree that someone would get hurt, or that she was nearly harmed? I wrung my hands in despair.
Unsure whether or not she desired my company, I lingered a little longer, saying a few commonplace things and feeling like a fool. When will I learn to be graceful and quiet? âWell,â I finally said, picking my bag back up, âI suppose I should go and see the cabins.â
âWeâll come along.â Jenny grabbed her siblingsâ hands and led the way.
I felt my heart racing as I fell in step behind them. Does she want to be friends? I bit my lip to suppress the large smile spreading across my face.
 *
The cabin had the worst stench ever. Even after being on the ship for two days I couldnât get used to the smell.
âUgh,â I rolled over on the bunk and looked at Jenny lying next to me. She stared up at the ceiling silently, holding her own stomach. âCan we go get some air?â My voice came out as a squeak. I made a face at her pleadingly.
âAye, we need it! Annie, Pattie, come on.â Jenny sat up and climbed down the ground.
I shook the dirt off my dress and grabbed Annieâs hand. âCome on.â She smiled in my direction and I felt my heart flutter.
We pushed past the passengers crowding the deck and made our way to the railing.
The breeze felt so wonderful. I clutched at the rail and closed my eyes, feeling almost all my nausea vaporize. I took a deep breath. The wind danced around me, teasing my hair and tickling my skin. Rose, it seemed to whisper. Slowly, I opened my eyes, the vast blue ocean surrounding me coming into focus.
The sea seemed to stretch on forever and ever; the most wonderful, majestic thing created, swallowing us up in its greatness. I felt so small and unimportant beside it.
I sighed and closed my eyes again, suddenly feeling lonely and unprotected.
âSo,â Jenny asked, âWhat makes you wish to travel to America?â
I started at her voice, blushing yet again. Iâd forgotten anyone else was there. I tried to smile. âUm, wellâŠâ I twisted a fat curl, turning back to the scenery. âI ran away.â Did she notice the squeak in my voice?
Annie frowned. âWhy?â She reached over and felt for my hand. I took hers and gave it a little squeeze.
âI used to live in an orphanage. You canât imagine how terrible orphanages are.â
Pattie crossed his arms. âI donât want to.â He glared at me.
âPattie!â Jenny exclaimed, boxing his ears lightly. âA good word never broke a tooth,â she whispered to him fiercely. She looked up and gave me an embarrassed smile. âOur father died of cholera years ago, when Annie was only a baby. We moved to England for a few years, before coming back to Ireland to start anew. But the famine hit, and took Lucy, Martha, and Marianne. Our Aunt Catherine, who lives in New York, wrote Mama and sent the money for our passes. By the time the tickets came, Mama was gone, too. I guess we came too close to being in an orphanage for comfort.â She took Annieâs other hand and leaned back on the rail. âHow did your parents die?â
I frowned and gazed over the wide sea. Twice I opened my mouth to answer only to shut it. âItâsâŠIt happened so long agoâŠIâm not sure I remember. I have a terrible memory.â I tried to wave my hand in an offhand way, furiously fighting the tears in my eyes. It hurt too much to tell the truth. What was I supposed to say? âI donât know how my mother diedâ?
âOh,â Jenny blushed this time. âIâm sorry. I wish I hadnât asked you.â
I waved a hand carelessly, still not trusting myself to look at her without crying. âDo youâŠâ I stopped to gulp and bite my lip, âDo you ever wish that there was a heaven on earth that you could go to whenever you need to get away? Whenever you feel like the whole world is piling on top of you and you just canât stand it anymore?â I finally glanced her way.
She smiled faintly. âMaybe itâs called America.â
 *
The ship jolted in the rolling storm. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my churning stomach, pinching my nose to wipe out the horrid smell.
Candles had been snuffed for fear of fire, leaving the cabin dark and quiet. Softly moaning mothers and children rolled around gagging.
The storm had been going on for a full day now. I hadnât had a breath of fresh air since the night before last.
Annie groaned beside me and vomited into a small bucket. I sighed. I had thrown up so much the past few days that I was only dry-heaving by now. Annie lay back down and grabbed my hand. âJenny,â she whispered, âWhen will it be over?â
âIââ The ship gave a tremendous jolt. I moaned and reached for the bucket.
âSoon,â Jenny began, âI thinkââ
Suddenly, the cabin door burst open. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky behind the figure in the doorway. âMan overboard!â The sailor cried. âAll stay below deck!â He leaped away from the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
I shot up and ran to the doorway, jumping over the sick children lying on the floor. I stood on the tips of my toes and looked through the peephole.
The deck was filled with water. In the flashes of lightning, I could see seaweed and fish sliding across the floor. Sailors rushed about, sliding and falling on the wet wood, apparently blinded by the stinging wind, as they rushed lug ropes to the railing.
I craned my neck and shouted commentary over my shoulder. âThereâs a bit of a mess out there! Theyâre reaching over the edge of the deckâOh! Theyâve got someone! Theyâre pulling him up!â
The rude red-headed sailor was being hauled over the edge of the railing by crew-men. Thunder roared behind him as the crew pulled up another person, a young boy, who must have been thrown overboard first. The boy shivered as the crew threw some blankets on him and pushed the two towards the cabins. I saw him smile shyly at the red-headed man. The man looked down gruffly, but gave the boy a friendly little shove.
âTheyâre all perfectly dandy,â I announced to the cabin, making my way back to my bed in the dark. I climbed in next to Annie and stroked her hair. âGoodnight,â I whispered, âTomorrow will be a better day.â
 *
âHurry up,â Jenny giggled, pushing me up the stairs.
âIâm trying,â I snapped back, bounding up them as quickly as I could. We all stopped and stared when we reached the top deck. Pattie was the first to recover, hollering and running to the railing. I laughed and chased after him, grabbing the edge and craning my neck.
America. I could see it before us, a wide streak on the horizon. If I squinted hard enough, I could just make out the buildings and factories in the distance.
âAmerica,â Jenny whispered.
âIâm going to buy myself an American flag and hang it from my window,â I said excitedly.
Pattie jumped up and down. âIâm going to learn how to play baseball!â His eyes sparkled.
Annie wrinkled her nose happily. âIâm going to memorize all the words to Yankee Doodle.â
âAnd Iâm going to knit a red, white, and blue blanket,â Jenny said.
I smiled at her and jumped up to see if I could catch a glance of the Statue of Liberty. âTomorrow,â I said excitedly, âWeâll be on dry land in America.â
To be continued….
Sunday Stories – Sleeping Beauty: Epilogue!!!
For those of you who follow me on Facebook, you probably read my post explaining that my flight home from Seattle was cancelled and I had to stay another day, keeping me from being able to finish typing out my “Sleeping Beauty” story until this morning. So sorry about that! I really did want to have it posted on Sunday, but I left my notebook at home thinking I’d be back to finish it Sunday afternoon. And then OF COURSE Chicago decided to pour down buckets of freezing rain and absolutely trap me in my new favorite city for an extra twenty-four hours. Darn! đ (I am, of course, not upset at all and was in fact thrilled to stay an extra day in Seattle!)
Anyway, here is the epilogue for the “Sleeping Beauty” story. It’s short and sweet, but I think it nicely wraps everything up with a nice little bow on top. It still amazes me how much you all have been enjoying this, and now I’m torn as to what story to start posting next! I guess you’ll have to wait until Sunday to figure out…
Meanwhile, I have lots of pictures to post this week! And some that I think you will find especially interesting include lots of great shots of me and my newest friend Elaini from www.misselainious.com. I’m just bursting at the seams to share them with you–It’s such a wonderful, God-story to tell! đ
Enjoy!
Epilogue:
We were married the next morning. I had the tailor refit my old lace gown so I could wear it on my special day. Daniel said I never looked prettier.
We moved to the seaside castle and made it our own. A few months later, Hannah and Prince Carl were wed. Prince Carl declared that heâd loved Hannah all along, but hadnât realized it until I was taken. Some may have been skeptical, but Hannah was just glad she won her Prince Charming.
Daniel and I had many children, all with my dark curls and his blue eyes. They enjoyed climbing trees and making faces at our guests. We liked to say they got it from us.
Flora got promoted to official nurse of all castle children. She liked to call herself the âOfficial Playmateâ.
In their old age, Mother and Father handed over the throne to Daniel and I, and spent the rest of their days as joyful grandparents. Who were surprisingly around for most of the time.
So with joy, happiness, and love forever more, we all lived happily ever after.
The end!!!
(Tuesday???) Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Eleven
Yes, I’m late this week. But I had a crazy weekend, so I’m using that as my excuse. Also, in case you haven’t heard yet, I’m headed to Seattle this weekend to sign books at the ALA Conference!!!! đ So obviously I’m way busy. You know, keeping up with the life of a best selling novelist and all. đ
Anyway, this is the end of the “Sleeping Beauty” series. Can you believe it??? Well, plus an epilogue next week. No idea what made 12-year-old me decide to end the story so abruptly, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was the first and only kissing scene I’ve ever written (hello! It’s “Sleeping Beauty”!) and I may have felt awkward and decided to cut it off. Not sure.
But I hope you enjoy! And if you want to stroll back down memory lane of this story, check out the old installments here.
Chapter Eight:
Prince Carl won archery, speed, and, believe it or not, dancing. It was evident that he was going to win. One by one, depressed princes saddled up their horses and rode away. Prince Carl was by far Motherâs favorite, and had mastered every sport. The only thing left for him to conquer was my heart. And boy, did he try.
On the night before the last tournament, Prince Carl and I sat before the fire as he tried to woo me. Mother, Hannah, and Daniel played cards nearby, by I could tell they were all watching us.
Prince Carl kissed my hand. âYou look very beautiful in the firelight, Valerie. May I call you Valerie?â
âYes!â Mother called out.
Prince Carl smiled. âThen you may call me Carl. Tell me, Valerie, who do you wish to win tomorrow? It will be your seventeenth birthday, and the curse will be over. It never had to be broken.â
No one. âOh, I donât know, PrinceâI meanâCarl.â
He leaned closer. âWell, I hope it shall be me, and I hope I have captured the heart of the most precious jewel ever crafted.â
Daniel grunted. I moved away from the prince and looked over at him. His face was a storm. I wanted to wipe away the anger from his brow. My fingers itched to smooth his hair and make him smile.
Prince Carl turned me to him and grinned. He began to lean in. I glanced at Mother, who was smiling at us. Hannah sighed wistfully at the handsome prince about to kiss me. But Danielâs eyes met mine. There was sorrow thereâa sort of sadness. I felt my heart crumple as the prince closed his eyes and pulled me to him.
No! I didnât want to kiss him! But I couldnât push him away. Mother would kill me if I did. I closed my eyes and braced myself. Softly, the princeâs lips brushed mine. Then more firmly. He pulled away slowly and grinned.
I looked down. Let him think I was blushing. I couldnât let him see my hot tears of anger. I felt like a china doll! Mother sold me off to a man I hardly knew and made me kiss him unwillingly. And in front of Daniel!
A soft knock sounded at the door. A sweet elderly maid limped in, pushing a tray of food. âA nighttime snack for the lovebirds?â
âOh, yes!â Mother clapped her hands. âItâs been a most wondrous night! Let us end it nicely.â
The maid passed out apples to everyone. âHere,â she said, enclosing an apple in my hand. âThis will help heal your pain, your highness,â she whispered.
I wiped my eyes and grabbed the apple. I opened my mouth and took a big, juicy bite. MmmmâŠ
Suddenly, the room began spinning. The maid cackled. Mother screamed. I saw the old woman vanish right before I crumpled in a heap on the ground.
*
I spun around and around. Colors danced before me. Blue, purple, black. The old maidâs face loomed in front of me. It grew and grew, surrounding me. âHa, ha, ha!â It began to change. It looked younger, prettier. The skin began to purple as the wrinkles were wiped away. Her eyes shown with hatred. Malkaka. The witch!
She began to chase me. I ran and ran, but I couldnât get away. All I could do was keep running. A cliff! I screamed. There was a burst of light. And then darkness.
*
I was in bed. I tried to open my eyes but they wouldnât open. I couldnât move!
I heard voices around me. âItâs the curse.â Mother. She sobbed out loud. âHow can it be broken?â Prince Carl. I hated him. âHer true love has to kiss her.â Daniel. âThatâs you, Carl!â Hannah. âYou kissed her last night!â
Last night? And Iâd only just awoken. Only, I guess I wasnât really awake. I couldnât lift my head or open my eyes.
âYes, Carl.â Mother again. âKiss her! Wake her up!â
He cleared his throat. A moment later, his lips touched mine. I tried to wiggle my toes. Nothing happened.
He tried more urgently. Again and again.
âEnough!â Mother shouted. âThat fool fairy Faulinaâs gift didnât work.â
âUnlessâŠâ Hannahâs voice sounded thoughtful. âUnless Prince Carl isnât her true love!â
âWell, who else could it be?â Mother sounded annoyed. âDonât tell me Iâm going to have to let every prince in the kingdom come and kiss my daughter.â
âWhat if heâs not a prince?â Hannah sounded excited.
There was silence for a moment. Then Daniel. âDonât look at me like that! Iâm not her true love.â
Flora! âYou donât love Valerie, sweet?â
He sounded uncertain. âWell, I do love her. Iâve always loved her, ever since I saw her climb that giant tree when she was ten. But Iâm not her true love.â
âWhat makes you think so?â Floraâs voice was reassuring. âAre you afraid she doesnât love you back? Valerie loves you, sweet. Youâre the only boy sheâs ever talked about. Just look at how she watches you. You canât tell me youâve never seen it in her eyes.â
I did love him. With all my heart I loved him. I wanted to sing it out. I wanted everyone to know! I wanted Daniel to know. I wanted to love him forever.
âI agree with Flora,â Hannah said. âValerieâs always talking about you. Didnât you see how she was looking at you last night?â
Daniel must have still been hesitant, for I heard Mother whisper, âPlease Daniel. Please, just kiss her.â
Everything was silent. Then I could feel his breath fluttering on my cheek. My heart pounded. Then it happened. His lips finally found mine.
My eyelashes fluttered. My hands flew up and grabbed Danielâs collar as I breathed in deeply. Air. I was awake!
I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Danielâs blue ones. He smiled slowly. I beamed back. Then I reached up and kissed him again. Iâd never felt so alive.
âHarold,â I heard Mother say to a duke, âValerieâs going to need a wedding dress. Soon.â
Stay tuned for epilogue….
Sunday Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Ten
And here it is, the eagerly anticipated second part of the seventh chapter! (Whew, that was a mouthful! Why do blog entries have to be so short and make me keep chopping up my chapters? Seriously.)
I’m so loving sharing this story with all of you, and I’m going to be so sad when it’s over! đŠ I’m already trying to decide what story I want to share next… I have a few in mind!
As always, if you need to catch up, here are the last few installments of this lovely little story I wrote way back in 2008, when I was twelve.
Chapter Seven, Cont’d
The next day my plan was set to action. Mother dolled me up, letting little curls fall from my bun and dabbing perfume on my neck. But she couldnât wipe away the mischievous gleam from my eye.
As soon as Mother excused herself from the breakfast table I pretended to get sleepy. The princes watched with a mixture of surprise and horror as I yawned and stretched in public. One prince said something funny and I made sure my laugh was the loudest and my snort distinct. Daniel, who was standing behind his prince, laughed longer than anyone when he heard it.
Then Mother re-entered and I was a perfect doll again. Tiny sips, dainty smiles, and polite giggles. The princes frowned in confusion as Mother beamed. Inside, I beamed, too.
*
The first prince contest I watched was horseback riding. I sat in my chair, exasperated. It was ridiculous! How could having the fastest horse make someone suitable to be my true love and Caledoniaâs next king?
I saw Daniel standing nearby, shading his eyes from the burning sun in order to watch.
âYou there! Servant boy!â I called to him. No one but Hannah would recognize him anyway.
His eyes lit with amusement when he saw me calling him. Obediently, he came. âYes, your highness?â
âFan me.â I said as haughtily as I could. I turned to the other servants in my viewing box. âYou may leave.â
Once they had all filed out, Daniel threw down the fan. âFan me?â he mimicked with a grin.
I smiled back. âHow was my performance at breakfast?â
He bowed. âMarvelous, I must say.â Then he leaned against the boxâs wall. âPrince Carl was confused, thatâs for sure.â
âIs he the one with the black hair and blue eyes that youâre always standing behind?â
Daniel shrugged. âYeah, thatâs him. Heâs not that bad, though. Heâs actually really smart, especially at arithmetic.â
I grinned teasingly. âHmmm⊠He is good-looking. Maybe I should be pulling for him.â
I expected Daniel to laugh. Instead his eyebrows knotted together somewhat fiercely. âI have to go.â He began to turn.
âWait.â I stood and grabbed his sleeve.
He turned abruptly. âYes?â
We stood together, face to face. I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it. I had to tilt my face up to look him in the eye, he had grown so tall. He squinted at the sun shining in his clear blue eyes and raised an eyebrow at me. My hand was still on his arm.
I pulled it off as if I was on fire and stuck it behind me. âIt was just a joke,â I stammered. âYou donât have to go.â
He shrugged and walked over to the edge of my box to watch the race in silence.
I sat down in my seat, confused. I was glad he couldnât see the range of emotions having their own race across my face. Why did my stomach feel so fluttery? Itâs just Daniel.
The winning horse flew over the finish line. Everyone cheered and stomped their feet. âAnd the winner is⊠Prince Carl of Moravia!â Mother nodded approvingly as the handsome prince waved to everyone.
Daniel turned to me. âTheyâre bringing him here to present to you.â
âOh,â I frantically stuck a handful of grapes in my mouth.
âYour highness,â the duke motioned for the young prince to bow. âPrince Carl of Moravia.â
Mother turned to say something to a servant. This was my chance! I gave a little curtsy, but managed to stumble a bit. Then I smiled at him with a mouth full of grapes.
He wrinkled his nose.
Hah! Victory for Valerie!
Then he gave me a charming smile. âI hope to achieve the honor of your hand and kiss, your highness.â He bowed again.
I swallowed the grapes. Daniel grunted. Mother beamed.
Inside, I screamed.
To be continued…
Sunday Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Nine
Aaaaannnddd… I’m on time this week!!! đ Yep, I found time today to type up the first part of Chapter Seven, which, believe it or not, is a very long chapter. But I think you ladies (and men???) are going to love where the story takes you this week… I’ll just hush up already so you can enjoy it. đ
Chapter Seven
âOh my goodness, what should you wear?â
It was 4:30 in the morning and Mother was pushing through my newly-arrived trunks like a wild hen. âDoes the lace gown I gave you a few years ago still fit?â
I yawned and stretched, rolling over in bed. âHardly.â
Mother frowned. It was odd to see her in her dressing gown instead of a lavish dress. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that the queen, mother or not, was a normal person.
Mother pulled out a light yellow gown with short, puffy sleeves and a long train. The bodice of the ballgown was laced with glittering diamond specks.
I already knew that gown was itchy. I had tried it on only once, to wear to a neighboring kingdomâs ball, but I had to fake a headache and sneak out early so I could rush upstairs and take it off. It was so uncomfortable, but it had just the razzle-dazzle Mother desired.
âThis oneâs perfect!â She cried, clapping her hands. She looked so happy that for once I wished I could get even a little bit excited over gowns and jewelry.
âOh, and Iâll have my hairdresser do your hair. And youâll have to wear your diamond tiara of course. Oh, oh, oh! Every prince there will fall head over heels, darling.â Mother stroked my dark curls, her eyes shining. Then she snapped back to queen-mode. âNow go take a bath, Valerie. And use your sweetest bath salts.â
*
I looked in the mirror. My gown was on, my face scrubbed, my hair piled-up, and my tiara glistening. I looked radiant.
But I wanted to look hideous. I wanted to repulse all my unwanted suitors. An idea flashed through my mind. Repulse them.
I sniffed loudly and scrunched up my nose in the mirror. Disgusting. I giggled. And then charming once again.
Mother frowned. âWhat are you doing?â
I sobered quickly. âNothing. Ready?â
She sighed and replied, âI suppose.â Then she waltzed down the staircase before me. In her dark green gown, she made a stunning appearance. Down below, I could hear snippets of her announcement to the princes. âToday⊠lovely⊠marriage⊠princess⊠noble⊠bravestâŠwins!â Then she raised her voice. âAnd now you may meet Valerie Antonia Clarisse, Princess of Caledonia and heir to the throne.â
I took a deep breath. I was soon to be face-to-face with the man who would âwinâ my heart. Which of the terrible candidates would it be?
I grabbed the skirt of my light yellow gown and slowly descended the staircase. I could hear the whispers and gasps as my gloved hand slid down the rail. Slowly and fearfully, I looked up and felt my eyes drawn with a somewhat magnetic gaze into a familiar face below. Daniel.
I completely froze, gaping at him. He wore servantsâ clothes and stood by a tall and arrogant-looking prince. My mind whirled. To think that I should meet him here, of all places, and with him a servant to one of the princes seeking my hand!
I must have looked very unladylike, staring at Daniel all goggly-eyed, because Mother shot me a disapproving glare. I wasnât to publicly acknowledge a servant. Sadly, my gaze returned to the ground as I stepped off the steps.
Mother introduced me to each of the princes and I curtsied politely, but my mind was miles away. I didnât dare look at Danielâs grinning face again, and Mother didnât bother introducing him to me anyway. âPrincess Valerie must return to her chambers now, gentlemen. But she will greet you every evening at supper.â
As I passed Daniel, I hastily whispered, âArbor.â
His eyes twinkled and I knew he understood. Once I was upstairs, I hastily changed into a simple dress and informed Hannah that I wished to go for a walk.
âOf course, Valerie. Iâll get our wraps.â
What? âUm, no.â I grabbed her arm. âIâd rather go alone, if you donât mind.â
âI suppose.â She shrugged and returned to her book.
I practically flew to the rose arbor. Daniel was waiting. âDaniel!â I cried, running toward him.
âValerie!â He grabbed me and spun me around, as if nothing had changed after all this time. âMy, youâre even bigger and prettier than ever!â He immediately flushed, but I beamed anyway.
âHavenât you ever learned not to tell a girl sheâs gotten big?â I winked cheekily. âOh, itâs no matter. You donât look so bad yourself.â He was much taller than heâd been the last time I saw him. He had finally filled out in his shoulders, but had managed to stay slender. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he sat back down. Those beautiful eyes⊠I blinked. But that didnât matter in friendship, of course.
He grinned, but soon sobered. âI heard about Ruth.â He pressed his lips together and gently touched my hand. âThank you for being there when she died.â
It hadnât even been a week. His pain was still fresh.
He leaned closer and frowned. âWhy did you have to leave home? Why do you need a prince?â
His gaze burned. âI donât want a prince. Mother is forcing me into an arranged marriage. Iâm as miserable as a goat.â
For some reason, a smile danced across his lip. âHow do we even know goats are miserable?â
I rolled my eyes. âI donât know. They just are, okay?â
He grinned. âSo whatâs your plan for getting out of it?â
I wiggled my eyebrows. âRepulsion.â
He shook his head. âWouldnât work. Youâre too pretty and too rich.â
I batted my eyelashes. âHave you ever fallen in love with a princess who slurped her soup, burped out loud, and snorted when she chuckled?â
He laughed out loud. âBrilliant, Val! Brilliant!â
To be continued…
{Belated} Sunday Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Eight
I’m pretty sure I have a really good reason why I didn’t post this yesterday. But the truth is, I can’t think of one. I wasted the afternoon away chatting on the phone, editing photos, and meeting my friend for tea at Starbucks. (Yes, I am the freak who hates coffee–You just learned something new about me)
Anyway, laziness or stifled teenage rebellion prevented me from posting my weekly “Sunday Stories” on an actual Sunday. But I really just drew the suspense out to make you all want it even more, right? Am I right? Well, maybe not. But, either way, here is this week’s installment. You can catch up here, if you need to.
Chapter Six:
Before I knew it, I was almost sixteen. It had been nearly two years since Daniel left, and he wasnât back yet.
All Mother would tell me was, âHeâs needed right where he is.â
Now that Mother lived in the same castle as me, she came to see me a few times a week.
âYour father and I have decided,â she said the morning before my sixteenth birthday, âThat we cannot wait for a prince any longer. Valerie, we simply must do something. Your father and I think we should hold a contest. The bravest, strongest, handsomest, gentlest prince of all shall be the one you may fall in love with and have to break the spell.â She beamed as if this were the best idea ever.
I was enraged. How dare she pick my husband!
Mother looked nervous. âNow, this is the only way, Valerie. You must have the right prince, you know.â
I couldnât take it any longer. âNo, Mother! Itâs not the only way!â
Her eyes flashed. âDo not raise your voice to me!â Iâd never seen her so angry. Her face was red and her green eyes shimmered. I looked down instantly.
âIf you say so, Mother.â
Iâd have to marry a trophy.
*
           Ruth got worse every day. Her fever raged and she was hardly ever awake.
I once brought Hannah, but the sight made Hannah cry so badly I felt my heart break at the corners. Why couldnât Daniel come home? She called out his name in her sleep. She needed her brother.
I held Ruthâs hand and wiped her forehead with a wet cloth. Ruth tossed and cried out. âShhhâŠâ How much longer would she last?
Hannah shifted nervously. âThe queen will be arriving shortly, Valerie.â
âGoodbye,â I whispered to Ruth. I kissed her mother and stepped out of the house, holding my skirts up as I trekked back to the castle.
âValerie.â Mother was already in my room, arms stretched out, waiting for me when I returned.
I ducked her embrace. âYes, Mother?â
Her smile froze. She dropped her arms and adjusted her wine-colored gown. âOh, I was just coming to tell you to pack your things. Weâre leaving for the palace in the mountains the day after tomorrow. Weâll hold the contest there.â
Leaving? With Ruth so sick? I could never leave her. I made a promise to Daniel.
âMotherâŠâ My voice broke. I threw myself on my bed and sobbed into the pillows.
âValerie, darling, whatâs wrong? I thought youâd enjoy going away for a few months. Everyone will still be here when you return.â
Would Ruth still be here? I stood and rushed out of the door. I couldnât even cry on my own bed without Mother hovering over me.
*
           âRuth.â I had to leave in a little less than an hour. Ruth opened her eyes for the first time in days and smiled faintly. She looked at mother.
âMa,â she whispered. Danielâs mother rushed to her side and grabbed Ruthâs hand.
âYes, sweet?â
âMa.â Ruth coughed. âDonât beâŠâ Her voice was weak. âDonât be sad when I leave. I love you all.â She glanced at each sibling before her gaze returned to her mother. âTell Daniel I love him, too.â
I could see her grip on her motherâs hand tighten and then drop. âIâm ready now,â she whispered. Then she closed her light blue eyes, a peaceful smile on her lips.
Danielâs mother sobbed.
âPrincess Valerie,â Hannah said from the doorway. âItâs time to go.â
*
           Every attempt at conversation Mother made in the carriage died. I stared out the window, seeing nothing as I blinked away tears.
âIs something troubling you, dear?â Mother finally asked.
I shook my head sadly. Sheâd never understand my grief for the loss of a peasant. Beside me, Hannah squeezed my hand. My only friend. Besides Daniel, who I was beginning to wonder if Iâd ever see again. Where was he?
âMother,â My voice quivered. Be brave. âWhere is Daniel right now?â
Motherâs dark head lifted from the book she was reading. âWho?â She blinked rapidly.
âDaniel. The stable boy you sent away two years ago.â
âOh. I really havenât the slightest idea, darling.â She turned back to her book.
Hannah sighed beside me. She was probably remembering the look on Ruthâs face when she called out to him.
âOh, and by the way, Valerie.â Mother didnât even look up as she spoke. âMany fine, handsome princes have spoken with your father since the other day. I spoke to one myself and he had much to say of his own wealth and intelligence.â
So basically he was vain. Great.
âIâm presenting them to you tomorrow.â
Tomorrow? I didnât have much time to get out of it. I pressed my lips together. But thereâs always a chance.
âOf course youâll have maids attending you at all times until then.
Pop. My bubble burst. Why, of all the princesses ever born in Caledonia, why did it have to be my birth that Malkaka was not invited to? Why did I have to end up being the one cursed and absolutely helpless, unable to have any say in my own fate? I was stuck wishing and praying for a kind-hearted prince who loved stories. But what were the chances of that?
To be continued…
Sunday Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Seven
Soooo excited for “Chasing Jupiter” to come out this week! Hopefully, I’ll have lots to blog about. đ
Anyway, hope you enjoy this week’s installment of the “Sleeping Beauty” story I wrote when I was twelve! You can read the past installments here. I’m off to eat a TON of food and hopefully have a wonderful Christmas with my family! đ
Chapter Five
Over the next few months, while I waited for my gowns to be finished, I visited Danielâs family every day. I grew to love them so much. I loved his mother in all her loving sweetness, the twins and their mischievousness, and I loved Ruth, as dear as she was.
Sometimes, when I went to visit Ruth, sheâd be asleep. So Iâd sit on the edge of her bed and sing softly to her.
Her favorite song to wake up to was an old Caledonian lullaby called, âThere Iâll Be.â So Iâd rub her legs and murmur,
âClose your eyes, little dove,
Fly away, little dove.
Soar away to dreamland,
There Iâll be.
Listen, little dove,
Come back, little dove.
Fly home away from dreamland,
There Iâll be.â
Once, Ruth asked me to tell her about the day I was born. âDaniel said you tell it real pretty,â she whispered. Her eyes were sunken back into her head and her skin was white as snow. She could barely lift her shoulders off the pillow.
I reached for her hand and rubbed gentle circles into her skin. I tried not to let her see the teardrops glistening in my eyes as I started my story.
âAnd there was much rejoicing in all of Caledonia,â I finally finished.
She smiled softly and closed her eyes. Within a few seconds, her breathing deepened, and I knew she was asleep.
I stared at her pale face. Her long, dark lashes stood out stark against her papery cheeks. I sighed. She must miss Daniel. Will he be back before she leaves us?
No! I straightened. Sheâs not going to leave. Sheâs going to get better, have five children, and live to be eighty-seven.
But the truth hurt.
*
Mother arrived with my royal trousseau of dresses the next day.
âValerie,â her voice was smooth as honey. She glided into my bedroom, arms spread out. âWhy do you look so surprised, sweet?â
I shook off my shock and managed to curtsy. âI wasnât expecting you again so soon, Mother.â
She looked over my nightgown, bare feet, and messy hair. âI see.â The pause seemed to stretch on forever before she smiled. âWell, I just had to come. To see you in your new gowns and introduce you to your new tutors.â She turned and waved in the dresses as a new wave of shock flooded me.
âTutors?â
âHmmm? Oh, yes. Just tutors for, you know, posture, table manners, ballroom dancing, etiquette⊠nothing special.â Mother pulled the first item out of the trunk of new dresses. It was a white silk nightgown with blue ribbons. âOh, how lovely.â Mother smiled sweetly at me.
My mind was still whirling at the thought of all those tutors.
Mother pulled out a midnight blue ballgown, glistening with a thousand crystals. âFor your first ball,â she explained.
My first ball? As in, thereâd be more than one?
She frowned at my confused face. âIs there something wrong with my choices?â
I looked at the yellow silk âsupper dressâ sheâd just placed on the bed. Iâm not right for the life of a princess.
*
It didnât take long to get used to tutors. Not that I enjoyed them. But seeing as my life was suddenly centered around them, they became like a big, annoying family to me. Sure, they all had their moments when they were kind or funny, but for the most part Dancing Master was too picky, Singing Mistress was too harsh, and Posture and Manner Masters were both too old and crabby. The only one I liked was Writing Mistress.
Writing Mistress loved words as much as I did, and always encouraged me to work my hardest at using them. Along with Hannah, she was the only other person I confided in. I even let her read some of Danielâs letters.
âPrincess Valerie,â she once told me. âYour life is a story, just waiting to be told. So open up and tell it to the world.â
To be continued…
Sunday Stories: Sleeping Beauty – Part Six
Sooooo…. Technically, this would be called “Monday Stories”, seeing as it is no longer Sunday. I totally meant to write this up and post it yesterday afternoon, but I ended up going to a big family Christmas party, and then a big Mother-Daughter dessert party, and was gone from 10 in the morning to 11 at night! So there really was no time to get together my weekly story! Sorry!
Anyway, here is part six of my “Sleeping Beauty” story from 2008. Things take a turn for the slightly dramatic/bittersweet this week, which is really funny for me to re-read after all these years. đ Hope you enjoy! Here are the past five installments, if you need to catch up.
âYour highness.â Hannah was waiting for me when I returned.
I was much too tired and depressed to deal with this. âHannah,â I yawned. âRegardless of what my mother says, you shall only call me âPrincessâ when others are around. I prefer the name âValerie.ââ
âOh, your highness!â Hannahâs eyes widened and she shook her head.
âValerie! Now please help me get out of this dress.â I finally got the lace gown off my head and pulled on an old forest green one. Much more comfortable.
âOh, Valerie,â Flora said. I hadnât noticed her standing by the window. âYour mother informed me that she would be sending for a dress maker to design you a whole new wardrobe, darling. No more simple dresses, she said. Now that youâre grown you must always look your best, she says.â Flora lowered her voice. âYou must to catch a prince, she says.â
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I donât need to catch a stupid prince! That was just utter poppy-cock!
Flora wrapped an arm around me. âI donât think your new dresses will be as fancy as that lace one, sweet. And heaven knows you wonât need a prince to wake you up.â
*
I was up at the crack of dawn the next morning. Danielâs leaving today! I jumped out of bed but Hannah gently pushed me back in. I blinked at her sleepily. âYouâre an early riser.â
She smiled. âIâm a light sleeper.â Thatâs when I noticed that the door that adjoined our rooms was open. âI heard you tossing and turning,â she said, wringing her nightgown. âPrin⊠Valerie, I know your friend is leaving today, but you must eat something. Flora told me that you skipped breakfast yesterday.â
âIâm not hungry.â My stomach growled.
Hannah laughed. âJust wait until Iâm dressed, Valerie. Then Iâll call the serving maid.â
By the time I was finished eating, the sun was already rising in the sky. I pulled on my favorite light green dress and quickly braided my hair. âIâll be back soon, Hannah.â
I ran toward Danielâs house, hoping to catch him alone, but I found a carriage already waiting by the front door. Daniel hugged each sibling and kissed his mother goodbye. When he looked up and saw me, he gave me one last wave before climbing in the carriage and driving away.
I wouldnât see his smile for another year. I wouldnât hear his laugh or see his light blue eyes for over three hundred and sixty five days. Maybe never again.
Danielâs mother was sobbing and holding her little ones to her chest protectively. Slowly, I approached her. I found my cheeks were wet also. The mother looked up at me and sniffed. I touched her shoulder softly and bit my lip. No words were needed to tell her how sorry I was.
âThank you for coming, Valerie.â She shooed away the two little ones in her lap and stood. âDaniel told me to give you something.â I followed her into her home and stood by the door.
A few moments later she returned with a letter. She handed it to me sadly. âIâm going to miss my boy.â
I sucked in my breath. I wanted to tell her that it was my fault he was goneâthat Mother thought we were too close and sent him awayâbut I couldnât. âIâll miss him, too,â I said instead.
âMa, whoâs there?â I heard from inside Ruthieâs room.
I walked into her room and smiled. âHello, Ruth.â
âHello, Princess. Is he gone?â Her blue eyes looked worried.
I forced myself to nod and sat on the edge of her bed. âBut Iâm here now.â I grasped her thin and smiled.
*
Once I was alone in my bed chamber again I smoothed out Danielâs letter and read it.
âDear Val,
Iâm writing this soon before I leave, with the hope that you will visit with my family at some point and receive it while I am away.
You are my best friend, you know. Iâm glad we became friends.
Iâm sorry this note must be short, but Iâm leaving in a few minutes.
Iâll write you. I promise.
Please look after Ruthie.
Sincerely,
Daniel.â
To be continued….