Red like My Nails (by Jules)

February 27, 2011

You tempt me
With your gleaming, polished surface
I’ve always loved to stroke
And brush the dust into the swirling air around my face
Smooth the wood to a velvet touch
Paint it red
Like my nails
And watch it gleam

Your strings
Are long and vary in thickness
I’ve always loved to pluck them
Make noises that make me sing
Sing until I hit the floor
And dye it red
Just like my nails
So it can gleam

You destroy me
In the loveliest of ways you unravel me
I’ve always loved it when you do
And I don’t know why it’s such a nice feeling to be broken down
Break me down and pick me up
Paint the sky red
So like my nails
And I will see you gleam
Because you being happy is so precious to me.

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Rune, the novel: Chapter Nine

February 24, 2011

The morning came all too quickly. After my speech, Leader had decided that it would be better if I was locked up for the rest of the day. I had been moved to Casey’s cell, and Casey, to my annoyance, had been moved in with Taren.

Throughout my last night in Intisa, I lay awake. The day’s events played themselves over in my head. I had undermined Leader’s athority, I had seen myself on a wanted poster, and I had spoken to the entire colony. Whoa. So much had happened in that day, it was a shock when I realized that I was about to be exiled.

The guards woke Taren, Casey, and I at three o’clock in the morning. We were greeted by”Rise and shine convicts!” before being dragged from our cells. I was shackled in between Taren and Casey, and I was glad to see that the two weren’t exchanging lovey dovey looks anymore. Being dragged out of a prison cell at three in the morning can work wonders. My spirits were relatively high until we reached the gate, which brought me back to our dire situation.

The guards unshackled us, but kept their swords pointed towards us. I found this fairly ridiculous.  They were five heavily armed, hugely muscular men, worrying that they would be overpowered by three pre-teens of average strength with no weapons. I allowed myself an inward chuckle.

A sixth guard began to open the gate. I thought about the certain death that was past that gate. I thought about the family I would be leaving behind.

“WAIT!!!” screamed a voice from behind us.

I spun around. Wheatweeve was standing there, holding a wicked looking set of four swords and looking like she was ready to kill somebody.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER YOU’RE SENDING TO DEATH!” Wheatweeve roared, so loudly that the guards flinched. “SO UNLESS YOU ALL WANT TO LOSE YOUR HEADS, YOU’RE GONNA LET ME GO WITH HIM!”

The guards nodded vigorously, mumbling, “Of course ma’am” and “No problem”. Wheatweeve came to stand beside me.

“Why do you want to come with us?” I whispered. “And where did you get those swords?”

“As for your first question,” Wheatweeve responded, “I can’t just let my dumb younger brother go out to be killed by himself. As for your second, I stole these swords from the armory. Smashed the window to get in.” At this point, my annoying, mean, obnoxious, amazing older sister grinned. I couldn’t help but smiling too. It had taken me getting exiled, but Wheatweeve and I were finally getting along.

“Does Mom know where you are?” I asked.

The grin faded from my sister’s face. “No. She’s in some kind of shock. Been that way since she saw you in the prison. I sent her over to see Mage. Speaking of whom,” Wheatweeve pulled an amulet from a rucksack slung over her shoulder, “he told me to give you this. Said it will help.”

Reluctantly, I took the gift. I still blamed Mage above all others for Whetstone’s death, but I needed all the help I could get. I clipped the amulet around my neck. The stone on it was sapphire ringed with gold. The metal felt warm against my chest.

“Cool,” I said to Wheatweeve, “Thanks.”

“Okay you…you rats,” the guard captain said shakily, “You get out of the colony.”  He saw the looks on our faces and our raised swords. “Please?” he added hopefully.

We would have resisted, but just then, more guards arrived, and we had no choice but to exit our home. The gate clanged shut behind us, sealing our foursome from our home.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Flight

February 24, 2011

He dreamed of the sky.

He dreamed of the sky and nothing else.

She dreamed of the evening.

She dreamed of the moon and the evening sky and nothing else.

They dreamed of a balance.

They dreamed of a balance that did not exist, a world that was peace.

They both took flight.

They took flight into Death’s open arms.

 

Categories: Poetry, Romance.

Tags:

Please Come Home (by Jules)

February 23, 2011

The calendar says,
“Guess how many days it’s been, Jules.”
I say,
“Don’t tell me or I’ll cry.”
The calendar says,
“Time passes on its own
It’s been–”
“NO,”
I protest,
And retreat to underneath my covers

It’s cozy under the covers
I can feel the warmth edging into my cold fingers
My cold torso
My freezing nose
Come home and lie down next to me
Curl your arms around my body
And I’ll sink into you
Like a pillow into the covers

The calendar says,
“Wake up, Jules.
The count is twenty-fi–”
“Shut up.”
The more I know of how long it’s been,
The worse I’ll feel behind my ribs
Tucked away by my lungs
Bloody and beautiful–
The heart

I pull the covers over my head
Imagine he’s here
You’ll protect me from the girls
Girls are fowl
Girls are awful
Girls are jealous,
Envious,
Killers.
It’s far too bad I have to be one of them.

Hold me closer,
Closer still,
Make me believe it
You’re really here
I’m not faking it
By laying under the covers.

Yes, I am.

The calendar says I am.

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Taking Refuge by Hades

February 22, 2011

 hearts wrenched apart by 

sandstorms

hurricanes

plagues of locusts

ivory emptiness

and a rib cage picked clean by lively finger

bones, a rib cages wrenched open

and left to devour the sky

the lesser ones, the smaller ones

the tiny flames sheltering in the lee of a great

stone

watching

the fig trees grow

the witch hazel blows

the green child burns with paler flames

we watch until the watching devours

us, until our eyes are too hungry for hearts

someone must shelter the polished skulls

Categories: Poetry.

Tags: , ,

A Quote (by my hero and kindred spirit)

February 21, 2011

I often ask people what is their definition of a “writer.” They usually tell me: “Somebody who has published books or articles” or “A person who makes their living by writing.” I disagree. I think somebody who writes everyday and looks at the workaday world through the prism of literature and words is a writer. Period. If a person everyday honestly strives to get at the heart of a matter and glean the truth out of the complexity of this world and we human beings through the written word, than that person is a writer, in my opinion. It is a matter of attitude and a way of life, not how you pay your bills or whether you have talent or not.

“To sum it all up, if you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling.

“You must write every single day of your life.

“You must read dreadful dumb books and glorious books, and let them wrestle in beautiful fights inside your head, vulgar one moment, brilliant the next.

“You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads.

“I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime.

“I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you.

“May you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories – science fiction or otherwise.

“Which finally means, may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.

Ray Bradbury

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Rebecca’s Truth

February 20, 2011

               

               Hey guys! This is a short story from an assignment in language class to write a myth. So, . . . hope you like it!!!!

               Ever since last Monday, my life’s seemed to spiral out of all control and understanding. I’ve become so much more confused, but I’ve learned a lot, too. Too bad what I’ve learned has only made me more confused. Let me explain:

                My name is Jade. I’m in middle school at Montgomery High School. I live in Montgomeryville, Pennsylvania. Or used to. Honestly, I don’t really know where I am now. In fact, for all I know, I could be in another galaxy. Last Monday morning, I woke up, brushed my teeth, dressed, and got ready for school, like any other normal fourteen-year-old girl would. I slipped on my new boots I’d gotten for my birthday on Saturday and got on my normal school bus, totally expecting another normal day. Boy, was I wrong. So much has happened, I’m not even sure I remember what normal is anymore. So, what happened that was that monumental?

                It all started after school that day. I had a research paper assignment due by Friday in science class, so I stopped at the Horsham Library on my way home from school. Normal. I could hear the shouts of some second graders from the elementary school above my head, bouncing in the boughs of a towering maple. I couldn’t see them for the brilliant green leaves occupying the branches along with the kids, but I knew their voices after hearing them on the bus every single morning of my school-going life. That was pretty normal. I sifted through everything I could find about Thomas Edison among the other thousands of leather-bound biographies, checked the books out, and headed for the door. Totally normal. On the way, I bumped into a girl about my age and size. She had long, straight red hair, partially covered by her green knit hat. Her hair rested on an, also green and knit, light jacket, surprisingly light for the weather around town lately. Under the jacket, she wore a pretty white blouse and a pair of slightly worn, light blue jeans. The whole effect of her outfit was pretty cool, I could imagine a lot of girls wanted to be just like her” at her school. She basically had that look, if you know what I mean. Even I, who could care less about fashion and clothes and stuff like that, was tempted to ask her where she got her top. She carried an off-white tote bag, containing a few old looking books (and I mean really old) and a pair of brown gloves sticking out of the front pocket.  Believe it or not, she wasn’t normal. I thought she was at the time; a girl who came in to escape the cold winter breeze ripping through town that day. In my rush, we collided, sending my armful, and her bagful, of books spilling to the ground. Since I was already late for dinner, I hurriedly scrambled to pick up all of the books for my paper among the pile, while she calmly and quietly picked up her own books. I quickly stood up, apologized, and headed home. That night and the next, I was so swamped with homework that I couldn’t even think about my paper until Wednesday. Only when I finally sat down at my desk that night did I realize, I’d not only picked up all my books, but an extra. Only it wasn’t a book. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. It seemed to be a small box, not small enough to fit in a pocket, but about the size of your average book. Only it was anything but. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge, and I couldn’t even find the hinges, let alone figure out where the top, front, and sides were. It was a deep, dark brown like some worn ancient volume and had strange carvings that appeared to be pictures or languages I could never hope to understand. It looked like it belonged in a museum some pitiful sixth-grade class would be forced to visit. With a jolt, I realized that it must have belonged to the girl from the library. I quickly went downstairs and headed back towards the library, with the box in one of my mom’s canvas bags. I didn’t know what it was, or what it was for, but I figured that the sooner I got rid of it, the better.

                The minute I left my house and turned down the street, I could see her running towards me. I mean straight towards me. But she wasn’t looking at me. She had her head down and was looking at a small black thing. As I was deciding what to do, she looked up, focused in on me, and increased her speed. I started to back away, but she grabbed my arm and stopped me.

                “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, like I was the most insane person since Nero. “Run!” She grasped my arm firmly, giving me no choice but to follow her, while she slipped the black thing into her pocket. Unfortunately for me, she was incredibly strong for her size.

                We ran through deserted streets, around corners, ducked into dark alleyways and out again. Soon, we were in a part of town I didn’t recognize. To me, it seemed almost as if we were in the Labyrinth, but she seemed to know the way. It was about ten minutes before I could manage a glimpse of our pursuers.

                First, I saw three tall, burly men. Not much more to them. They looked like they’ve never scored a “B-” in their entire lives. Your classic, cookie-cutter goons, basically. Then, I saw their boss, a tall, thin woman. In a nutshell, your classic evil lady; cruel eyes, set jaw, fierce expression. She had short, bleach-blond hair. Her dark eyes flashed with annoyance, as if our running for our lives highly inconvenienced her. Her lips were a scary shade of red, standing out against her pale hair. All four were clad from head to toe in black, the woman with small diamond earrings and black stilettos so high that I couldn’t begin to imagine how she kept up. I guessed, with a shudder, that she had had a lot of practice.

                I could feel the girl tugging on my arm and realized that I’d slowed. We sped off again towards the wood at the edge of town. I tried to keep up with her, but I found myself looking back at our pursuers more and more as time went on. Just as we were about to pass by the woods and out of town, she veered towards them, and, once again, I followed. I stole another glance back. The group was gaining on us.

                “Umm, hello?” I said, not sure how to start. “Those people are catching up.” Instead of answering, she turned, looked, nodded, then led me past the tree-line and deeper into the woods, jumping over fallen logs, ducking under branches laden with dark green leaves, and veering out of the way of thorn bushes.

                Just as I thought I couldn’t run anymore, she started to slow – just a little. Only enough to slip the small black device from earlier out of her pocket. She opened what looked like a Blackberry or some other keyboard phone.

                “What are you doing?” I asked, kind of alarmed. To me, this didn’t seem like the time to be texting her “BFF”. Still, she ignored me as we ran through the forest, and she typed. Then, at once, she stopped typing. I watched as she stole a glance back at the group before pressing a small, square key with rounded edges, labeled “ENTER” in neat, printed white letters on the phone. Then she pointed the camera lens of the ‘phone’ (At this point, I was starting to doubt that’s what it was), first towards the bad guys, then towards several trees towering overhead. She made a dash to get further away, once again pulling me with her. Instantly, the leaves all transformed from their normal shade of green to bright yellows, vibrant oranges, and brilliant crimsons I’d never seen before. Then, the leaves, gradually at first, then all at once, fell to the ground with a crash on top of and around our pursuers, blocking the only path after us. While I stood staring, the girl grabbed my arm once again and pulled me onward. Soon we came to a little clearing. I think over what’s happened, trying to comprehend it, but I can’t.

                “What just happened?” I demand, instead.

                “I just lost our pursuers.” she says simply.

                “How? Lost who? Why were they chasing us?”

                “Long story.” She says, just as calm as ever. “Anyway, my name is Rebecca, and I believe that you have something that belongs to me, Meredith.”

                “What? How do you know my name? Who are you?” I ask, surprised that she used my real name, since I hate my real name and normally give everyone my middle name, when asked. Needless to say, I’m getting more and more confused by the second.

                “I told you already, I’m Rebecca. I know your name because I just do, and I said ‘I believe that you have something that belongs to me.’”

                Well, that clears everything up, I think. But I say, “Maybe I don’t, and maybe I do, but right now, I need some answers. Then, if I have your box, that is, I might give it back.”

                Rebecca giggles, “Box? Alright.” Before I can ask what she means, she continues, “You’re pretty clever, aren’t you, Meredith? Alright, I’ll consent, but only because I favor you. Ask your questions.”

                Aside from not appreciating being laughed at, I get even more confused when she starts talking like my Great-Grandmother’s King James Bible. But I try to get past that and ask my questions like she said. “Please don’t call me that! My name is Jade.”

               “Your name’s not Jade.” She objects.

               “Yes it is!”

               “Very well, if you say so, Jade.” she draws out the word “Jade,” just to make her point. Anyway, what was your question?”

                I try to ignore her remark. “Well, first of all, I want to know who those people were.”

                “Our pursuers?” she asks.

                “Yeah.”

                “Well, they were just that, and let’s just say we do not want to encounter them again.”

               “That’s not an answer,” I say.

               “Of course it is. It just might not be the one you were looking for,”

               “So you’re not going to answer me, then?” I ask.

               “I just did.” she replies, giving me a kind of quizzical look.

               Seeing I’m getting nowhere, I move on. “Ok, well, why are you talking so weird?”

               “I’m not talking strangely, you are the one who’s talking strangely.”

               “No, you keep saying stuff that people don’t normally say, like encounter, clever, favor, consent, very well, strangely. Normal people don’t casually talk like that.”

               “Oh! I apolo – Ooops. I’m sorry. I guess I spent a little too much time in Endovila –”

               “What?”

               “A remote island where headquarters is.” she explains, “It’s managed to avoid detection and colonization from the modern world since the exploration of the Americas. Therefore, we speak the proper grammar of the fifteenth century.”

               “You’re doing it again.” I say simply.

               “Doing what?”

               “Wierding me out,” I answer, “and talking like that again. Anyway, what do you mean headquarters?”

               “Headquarters. Surely you know what that means, Meredith?”

              “Yes, I know what headquarters means, I’m not an imbecile. And my name’s not Meredith. It’s Jade.

              “Fine, Jade, then.”

              “Anyway,” I continue, “I meant headquarters of what.

              “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find out,” she ‘assures’ me. She giggles again, then says, “Now, about my ‘box’–”

              “Wait, I still have some questions!”

              “Fine,” she says, “but you don’t seem to be asking very good questions.” she grins slightly.

               Although at that point I just about wanted to strangle her, I still needed answers, so I resolved to bear with her as much as I could. Then I remembered the weirdest thing that had happened to me.

               “What’s the Blackberry thing for?” I ask.

               “Excuse me?” she asked, puzzled. Finally, I thought.

               “The black thing that looks like a cell phone. The one you used to get away from the bad guys.”

               “Precisely that, Meredith.” she answers. Naturally.

               “Jade!”

               “Jade,” she repeats.

               I wait a few seconds. When she doesn’t say anything else, I finally say, “Okay, well what is it?”

               “Oh! Right, I suppose you deserve an in-depth explanation. Well, first of all, it’s not a communication device – ” seeing I’m about to interrupt, she rolls her eyes, and goes back to talking normally, “it’s not for talking to people, I have something else for that. It’s a device given to every TKR-grade agent in my division.”

               “TKR? Division?” I ask.

               “My division of agents in Endovila. TKR stands for a Truth Knower and Revealer. Technically, we’re not supposed to reveal except in case of emergencies. I’m counting this as an emergency. Anyway, the device is called a TMR.” Just as I’m about to interrupt, she adds, “Truth Masker and Replacer – also, only to be used in emergencies. If something happens, we can use it to create a diversion or to get away without arising suspicion and endangering Endovila and cities like it.”

               “What?” I ask, puzzled, but relieved to finally be getting answers – and that she’s speaking slightly more normal English now. “I don’t get it.”

               “Think back to when you saw me use it today.” She pauses, waiting. I think back. “The memory is foggy, cor –“ she quickly changes her mind, “ – right?”

               “Yeah –” I say slowly.

               “And now you can barely remember it, right?” she doesn’t wait for an answer. Shocker there. “And now you’re almost thinking that leaves have always changed color, always fallen to the ground. You even have memories of raking leaves with your family, and remember your science teacher teaching you about it, right?” I think back, and, shockingly, realize she’s right. “But those memories are cloudy, too, aren’t they? It’s really hard for you to remember what really happened. But the Truth will always be there, in your mind, since you saw it happening. Imagine what it’s like for all the people who didn’t see it. If you tried to tell them what happened, they’d think you were crazy; they’d probably lock you up in an asylum somewhere. That’s how lost they all are. See, I have the Truth. My entire division has the Truth. The people of Endovila have the Truth, and always will, if my division has anything to say about it. And now, you have a piece of it, too. Whether you like it or not, there can be no turning back now. Our enemies have already seen you with me. It’s only a matter of time before they target you, too, so it would not turn out very well for you and your family if you returned home. I have to get you to Endovila right away. First – ”

               “Wait, what makes you think I’ll go with you?” I ask, really confused now, since she’s basically gone and said, “You’ve been lied to all your life by me and my friends, oh, and by the way, if you don’t come with me, you and your family are gonna die,” and was now trying to force me to go to some “top-secret” headquarters with her, just because she said so. Not to mention she suddenly started talking less like a teenager, and more like someone briefing James Bond or the guy from Mission Impossible. “You just told me that your people have been feeding lies to my brain all my life, and now you expect me to follow you to some city I’ve never heard of on a remote island in the middle of who-knows-where?” I ask skeptically.

               “Oh, no, not all your life, Jade. See, small children are not affected by the TMR.” Yeah, like that makes it all so much better. “That’s why they seem to have such vivid imaginations. Of course, after we make the first Change, life continues on the path we’ve formed.” She must have seen the look on my face, because she went on, “For instance – your older brother, David,” I nod, “his little daughter, your niece, Ariana, will always remember the green leaves in the winter-time. She’ll remember everything we Change, as it was originally, till she’s around five or six. Though that depends. I would guess that she, in particular might remain Untampered, as we call it, until she is about seven or eight, like her father and you did. Though, it is also possible she might begin to be Tampered at age four, as her mother, your sister-in-law, did.  Of course, children seem to take after their fathers in that respect. As I was saying –”

               This being the first time she slowed enough to let me butt in, I gladly took my chance. “Wait, how do you know I have a married older brother, and how could you possibly know my family’s names?”

               “I just do,” comes her usual answer. “All TKR agents do. I’ll explain more later. And please don’t interrupt, it’s a bit irritating, aren’t I giving you answers you need?” she pauses. She does have a point about the answers, I think. Then I realize something. She said need. Need, not want. You need food, water and clothes. You only want answers, unless you’re in some Life or Death circumstance. Am I in a Life or Death circumstance? I shudder, not for the first time that day. She moves on. “Once your niece reaches the age of Tamperment, she will not necessarily lose those memories that were preserved, or even have them masked. She will choose with her own mind to forget those winters with leaves, when she cannot explain them in relation to her lessons and to her winters without leaves. Also, when she reaches that age, any new memories supplied to her by the TMR will be affect her. Do you understand, Mere–” she stutters, “Jade?”

               “I think so.” I reply, now wanting to soak up all information. I might need it, after all. “So, the TMR made the leaves fall, and now every year the leaves will fall again in –” I struggle to decipher the shadowy memory, “Autumn, or . . . fall!” I exclaim.

               “Very good!” says Rebecca. “If you’ve seen the Change it’s even harder to know what the Winters think. Especially if you’re a Summer – ”

               “The winters? A summer?” I ask.

               “Oh, sorry, I forgot you don’t know the terminology. A Winter is one who is aware of no Truth, like your brother. A Spring is one who has just been introduced to it, like you. A Summer is one who knows it, and is experienced with it, anyone living on Endovila or anyone who has been made an agent, or both.”

               “Like you?” I ask, now too interested to notice she’s gone KJV again.

               “Yes, like me, and, once again, please let me finish speaking before you interrupt; we don’t know how much time we have. Thank you. Anyway, an Autumn, or now, thanks to us, a Fall,” she smiles, “A Fall is a small child, who knows Truth, but does not know about it, like your niece.”

               “Alright, I think I’ve got it. So – ”

               “Shh!” Rebecca stops me, and glances around. I can hear a rustling in the bushes, far off. “We don’t have much time, I have to get you to Endovila! Here, give me the box!” I guess she’s decided to stick with my interpretation, after all.

               “But –” I start, unwilling to give up my bargaining tool. “I still have more questions!”

               “Jade, you have to give me the box. Did you see those men chasing us? They are not the friendly type. They won’t give you any answers. And, the woman, she’s worse.” now she shudders, which kind of scares me. “You don’t even want to know. You want answers? I’ll give you answers. I was running because I’d been held at their headquarters for interrogation since Monday so they could try to find out where the box was.”

               “You couldn’t get away from them like we just did?”

               “There was no hope of that. Too many of them, plus I didn’t have any box. The TMR doesn’t work as well when it’s far from a box – too weak a signal. That’s how I found you, the signal got stronger.” So, the thing has a keyboard  and a signal, but isn’t a cell phone? Sure, makes perfect sense, I think to myself, but say nothing. “I only barely escaped. Now, if you don’t want to meet them again – which I certainly don’t – please hand me the box!”

               Now I could see she was really scared, but I still objected, “But I need more answers!” I take the box out of my bag and clutch it to my chest – frightened she might use the TMR to lift it out of the bag and give us all memories of boxes naturally floating in mid-air.

               “Jade,” she says grimly and slowly, so I won’t miss a word, “if you don’t give me that box, we might not even last that long.”

 

I toss her the box.

Categories: Futuristic Fiction, Short Stories.

Tags: , , , , ,

Chapter Five

February 11, 2011

(for those of you who have never seen this story, just search “Anna Willowford” and it should pull all the other chapters up xD )

“Make sure to tell your Aunt Liliana we send our love,” Mother said sadly. She hugged me tightly, and I could tell she was barely containing her tears.

“I will, Mother,” I said, trying to ignore the fear threatening to make me scream. I was afraid to leave, because leaving meant we were resigning ourselves to this dark time. It meant we were admitting it had the upper hand. It meant surrender.

“Come along, Anna!” Beatrice said, holding open the stagecoach door. Beatrice (or Bea, as I preferred to call her) was one of our older maids, and Mother was having me take her along on the trip as my chaperon, mainly because Delmont was going with us. His aunt and uncle lived not far from mine, and he was going to stay with them.

I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. I was eighteen, practically an adult.  My parents were just as susceptible to cholera as I was; in fact, I probably had a better chance of fighting the sickness since I was younger. And I would rather rip out all my hair then travel anywhere for a day with Delmont. I shuddered, trying to pretend I wasn’t really in a carriage with him. This is all just a nasty dream, I told myself. You’ll wake up and find yourself in your own bed and-

“Are you all right, Anna?”

I looked up to find Delmont smiling sympathetically at me. Trying not to roll my eyes, I said, “Yes, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like leaving is all.”

“You don’t want to leave?” He looked quite shocked. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick?!”

“Think about it, Delmont. If everyone was afraid they would get sick so they all left, who would take care of those who are sick? Besides, while some of the adults have an immunity to cholera because they went through it when they were young, most adults don’t – so they have just as good a chance as us of getting sick,” I snapped.

At his injured expression I instantly felt a bit of guilt, but then I pushed it back down. He needed a taste of reality.

“Goodbye, Anna,” Mother said tearfully one last time.

“Goodbye, Mother,” I replied sullenly.

“Try to listen to your aunt and uncle, Anna,” Father said gravely. The other implied part of his sentence was, Since you certainly haven’t been doing a good job listening to your mother and I.

I didn’t reply, instead looking straight ahead . . . only, that wasn’t the smartest idea, because then I was staring straight at Delmont. Annoyed, I looked at the floor as the carriage finally pulled away, trying to erase the image of Mother’s pale, worried face from my mind.

We rode through the main part of the city then. People had painted white marks on their door frames to signal sickness in the household, and I almost wanted to hold my breath as we rode past each one. I chided myself then. Oh, please, I thought. This is coming from the same girl who was just saying she should be allowed to stay behind.

“Don’t worry, Anna, I won’t let you get sick,” Delmont said, trying to be brave for me even though he was clearly frightened.

“As if you can control that,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, how kind of you.” I smiled quickly before looking away, gritting my teeth and burying my hands in the folds of my dress so I could clench them into fists.

~

We’d been out of the city itself for about an hour or so now, and Delmont had begun his senseless chatter now that we were breathing cleaner air and not being stared at by indignant sick people who felt we were fleeing cowardly.

“It was a terribly boring party,” Delmont rambled. “The music was played poorly, the wine was bitter . . . Kingsfield Manor won’t be having a ball again anytime soon.”

I sighed. “Delmont, do you ever do anything worthwhile?!”

He said nothing, clearly flabbergasted.

“All over England widows and their children are forced out of their homes for failure to pay taxes. The poor are discriminated, and the simple, moral way of life is lost in the ‘need’ for entertainment – and you complain about a party?”

“Miss Willowford,” Bea chided quietly but firmly.

“No, Bea, I want to know why,” I insisted. I looked back at him. “Well?”

“I . . . I never thought of it that way,” he said, stunned.

“Then I’ll thank you to be silent unless you have something worthwhile to speak of,” I said coolly before looking out the window once more.

Bea was dumbfounded beside me. “Mr. Chevalier, please pardon my mistress, she . . . she’s just . . . ”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he said, his mask of charm up once more. “I’m sure Miss Willowford is just tired from our journey.”

No, you stuck-up prig; the thing that’s making me tired is your never-ending babble, I thought angrily, my hands in fists once more.

We rode mostly in silence for the rest of the journey then, Delmont reading a book or napping to pass the time. I just stared sullenly out the window, my spirits dropping even further when the skies turned gray and it began to rain. The carriage wheels nearly got stuck in the mud a few times, and I wondered if we would ever get to our destination.

The little light in the sky quickly disappeared and the rain increased, and the driver suggested we stop at an inn for the night. None of us could disagree with him; it was miserable in here and must be ten times worse for the driver. We stopped at the first inn we found and quickly went in, our driver taking the horses and carriage to the stable.

“Good evenin’, sir, I’m afraid we’ve hardly any rooms left – ” the innkeeper began. Then he took a closer look at Delmont and I and saw our fine clothes. “Sir, Miss,”  he addressed Delmont and I. “I will get you our finest rooms at once!” He hurried off, stopping to hurriedly whisper something to his wife.

“Please, follow me!” he said then, hurrying upstairs. We wearily trudged along behind him, and I wondered if I could actually make it up all those stairs without falling asleep.

After I had taken a warm bath and gotten all the grime off of myself, I sank onto the bed in my room. My stomach was growling but I was too weary to go all the way back downstairs for supper.

Knock knock. Sighing, I got up and opened my door. Sounds of laughter and talking drifted up to me from downstairs as I did so.

The innkeeper’s wife stood there bearing a tray. On it was a bowl of steaming stew and two pieces of bread that smelled glorious, and a little bowl of butter. There was a tumbler of milk and a cup of tea. I felt ready to faint at the sight of it all.

“I thought you’d be wantin’ to have your supper upstairs, mum,” she said, handing me the tray.

“Thank you,” I said wearily. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, mum.” She gave a little bob before she closed the door, and then she hurried downstairs.

I carried the tray over to the little table in the room and set it down, sinking down into the chair. I said a silent prayer before I ate. Dear God, thank You for this food. Please watch over us tonight and as we continue our journey tomorrow. Please help me not to kill Delmont before I get to my aunt and uncle’s. In Your Name I pray, Amen.

I ate my food like a ravenous wolf, enjoying the immense freedom from being at home at the dinner table and having my parents watch me like hawks to make sure my table etiquette was perfect. How wonderful it was to put my elbows on the table and just dig in. And that was not to mention that the food was delicious, better than even our cook Irene made – and her food was amazing.

When I was done I collapsed onto my bed once more, my stomach full and my heart, for the moment, content. I was warm, I was well-fed, and I had a roof over me. I would think on tomorrow’s problems tomorrow.

And with that thought, I closed my eyes and went right to sleep.

Categories: Historical Fiction.

Tags: , ,

Life

February 9, 2011

Sometimes life

leaves you panting,

leaves you wanting,

leaves you needing.

Sometimes life

leaves you short,

leaves you empty,

leaves you altogether

but then life can be surprising

can be full

can be satisfying

Life exists along with emptiness, anger, and death.

but it co-insides with love and laughter

which makes it worth your while.

Categories: Lyrical Prose.

The Worst Ending Magazine/Journal

February 3, 2011

It’s about time, don’t you think?

What you can do so Miracle doesn’t have to quit her classes and eject her social life…

1:  Comment with the links of 3-5 pieces you’ve written on WE that you’d like to have in our first magazine. Raise your hand if you’d like to be on the judging board to figure out which ones make the cut. You could do this RIGHT NOW! How exciting! *wink wink*

2:  Send a shout out email to your non-WE writer buddy friends and invite them to submit (just send their works to theworstending@gmail.com). YES, WE HAVE AN EMAIL! And yes, it IS using the ninja theme, why do you ask?

3: Read this: http://theworstending.com/the-worst-ending-magazine. And start brainstorming answers to these questions, and share if you’ve learned anything since we first pitched this .

TECHNICAL & BORING (but potentially awesome) NOTE:

If any money is made, which is unlikely but possible, the first $20 will go to Miracle (The Worst Ending site is $10 a year, and it’s been running for two years), and the rest will be split equally among all contributers.  So if some of your work is used or you are on the judging board, you’re in on the cash.  Which probably won’t exist. But we can hope. Right?

It’ll be 32 pages long and B&W. If you’re an amazing sketcher/doodler, PLEASE volunteer to decorate this thing.

readysetGO!

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

The Diary of Celia Joy Andrew: 1934

February 1, 2011

My first attempt at a diary… a history assignment I got a little carried away with:)

July 9, 1934

            I’m Celia Joy Andrews, and I’m sixteen. Times have been hard these past few years… and especially lately. My dad lost his job yesterday (though that didn’t come as a surprise), and now, just a day later, we are already beginning to feel it. To make matters worse, my younger sister, Kateri (Katherine), got sick last week, and mom’s been taking care of her. We’ve always had enough food and provisions (though hardly) for my brother, sister, mom, dad, and me, but now I don’t know. Yesterday a group of hobos came and worked for food. One of them, John, seemed more… well, separate from the others. My older brother, Luke, talked to him, and I noticed afterward when the rest left, he snuck in our barn. I told Luke, and he just looked at me for a minute, and said, “We need to talk.” Naturally I wondered all night, and worried. I know God doesn’t want me to worry, if he cares about even about the sparrows, he cares about us. So, I tried praying, but, like Peter, my focus was on the storm around me, and shamefully I began sinking in life’s troubles. But I know Jesus will help me, he always has, and I will just continue to work on keeping my focus on my Savior. So, Luke pulled me aside after dinner and I was shaking like a leaf, though, thankfully, he was so thoughtful, planning what he was going to say, he didn’t notice, I think. He stopped pacing to announce, “this will only be temporary,” and I knew my fears were going to become an actuality. He paused, then continued, “Mom and dad are doing the best they can, with God’s help, but now… well, in the nicest way possible, Celia, we don’t help much, and we are two extra mouths to feed; although mom and dad would never say so, I think we need to leave.” There, he had said it. And I felt helpless and close to hopeless. I tried to look for a “silver-lining”, but the closest thing I could find was that it’d increase my prayer life! But, he told me about John and how he had been looking for a partner to go to Cincinnati for a year and Luke said it sounded opportune. I just hope he’s waiting for God’s timing and seeking his will. He really thinks we could help our family more by helping earn money, taking care of ourselves, and coming back in a year. So, now I guess our plan is to pray tonight, and hopefully (or not so hopefully), leave tomorrow night. I’ve prayed… but I felt like I needed to sort out my thoughts. So, I ripped up package paper from my old birthday gift I saved, took the string and a screw and made this. It turned out to be a successful tool of distraction, for awhile. Now I guess I’d better get back to praying. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11. Then I distinctly heard a voice saying, “I know my plans for you, Celia, you’ve put your life in my hands, and I will NEVER fail you.”

                                                                                                                        July 11, 2 am

            Well, we are on a train to who knows where en route to Cincinnati. Luke thought that it’d be best for me to pose as his brother, at least for the train ride, so I am now “CJ” I have hardly slept since I woke up the morning Luke told me, and although I am extremely tired, I still can’t sleep. So, I decided to work again on my new found hobby and attempt to journal on this horrendously bumpy train ride. I keep praying, and some scripture that I memorized when I was little keeps floating back to my mind. Something tells me to write them down, so I will write the references. Jeremiah 29:11-13, James 4:8, Proverbs 3:5-6, James 1:5, Isaiah 41:13, Psalm 145:18, Matthew 11:28, Nehemiah 8:10, 2 Timothy 1:7,  Isaiah 58: 16, Isaiah 38:9, Psalm 28:7, Psalm 48:19, and Romans 8: 28. I always knew that memorizing God’s word was important, but I don’t think that it ever held a greater meaning to me than now~ especially since I couldn’t bring my Bible along on this expedition. Persuasion doesn’t usually work on my brother, so I can’t be too surprised, although, I guess I thought that he would be a little more in favor of this idea since, well, it is a Bible. But I guess we couldn’t afford to take it with us, and, well, if God wants us to get one, he’ll provide it in his timing. I guess I’m just lucky I was able to take this. Although, I’m sure if Luke found out I did, I’d have to get rid of it. So, that’s another reason I have to do it when he’s asleep.

                                                                                                             July 11

            We arrived at a hobo jungle today. I can hardly bear the thought that mom and dad have read our letter by now~ I shudder at the thought of theirs. Did we really do the right thing? I don’t know. Running away from home doesn’t sound very right, but Luke said that we didn’t really have much of a choice. I just hope we’re doing the Lord’s will, but it’s done now, and we’ll just work hard to come back as soon as we can, I guess. I cried all night last night until there were no more tears. I had kept it bottled up inside and it felt so good to let them flow for a time. And with Luke and John sleeping, it was just me. Well, I should say me and Jesus; I could truly feel his presence with me as I poured out my heart out to him.

            So now we are at the hobo jungle that John found. Luke and I have a lot to learn if we really are going to “ride the rails”. John showed us signs that he found that marked a trail from the train to the jungle. This really is just a camp where hobos stay as long as they need to. I’ve never really paid attention to the hobos that came to my house, and I never really noticed how much they really helped each other. John told me that that’s what hobo actually stands for… helping our brothers out. We contributed some food to the stew that they were making, and had some of that for supper. We’re just about out of the food that we brought for the trip. Not that that’s very surprising. We didn’t want to take much from our family, so we just took what we absolutely needed. I was a little worried that we wouldn’t have enough, but then Luke reminded me that the Lord will provide for our needs. I just hope that we can find a place to settle down in soon. I guess Luke and John are talking of not going to Cincinnati any more, since the country people seem to be better off then the people in the city. Farms and close neighbors I guess are the main reason. So, I guess we’ll wonder around (not too much farther from home I hope) until we find a good place to settle. I’ve been praying so hard that God would just guide us to where he wants us to go. I know Luke’s also been praying. I don’t know about John… I don’t even know if he’s a Christian. Well, I could pray for him too, and our family, and the hobos… I guess prayer is the best tool I have right now.

                                                                                                                        July 12

            Today I met the very first unfriendly hobo. It surprised me, too. I thought they were all so nice, and then we meet Carl. I don’t want to judge him, maybe he’s had it hard these past few years; I don’t know, but I’m sure there are circumstances that I don’t know about. I’ll just pray for him. He seemed pretty well off for a hobo, though. When John asked him about it, he didn’t say anything. I think John thought that he was a thief. I heard him talking to Luke. Luke said we don’t know for sure, but John said that he’s as sure as he’ll ever be unless Carl came right out and told him himself. I don’t know, but I do know that he was pretty secretive and very unfriendly. Luke went through the camp I think to get us supper, but I stayed in the tent. Luke came back mumbling something about Carl. I knew he had to be pretty upset to be acting that way. I asked him about it, but he said just to pray for him. So, I guess that’s what I’m going to do.

                                                                                                                        July 13

            John told Luke and I (Well, mostly Luke, because I don’t think he knew I was there, although I was in plain sight, if you were looking hard enough that is) that he went around to Carl’s tent last night while he was out to look around. He said he found evidence that truly convinced him that Carl was a thief. I guess he found watches, jewelry, and all sorts of things that normal hobos don’t carry around hidden in their things. Luke still reminded John that there could’ve been a logical reason, and John just said, “There is a logical reason… he stole. And that’s the only one I can come up with.” Luke didn’t have anything to say to that, and I almost think that he had the same suspicions as John (although he’d never admit it).

                                                                                                                        July 14

            We arrived at another hobo jungle today. While Luke was fixing our tent, John and I went to see if there were any berries or anything to have with lunch. We were talking, and I asked John where he was from. He said that he was from a city just outside of Chicago. He told me that he became a hobo a few months ago when his parents told him that they couldn’t afford him and he needed to go out on his own, so he left.

            I can’t imagine! I mean, that’s sort of how it was with me and Luke, but I can’t imagine your parents coming right out and saying to you. It must have been so hard! I decided that I’m praying extra for him, and his family.

                                                                                                                        July 15

            It’s been almost a week now since we left, and we’re still not sure where to go. Today is Sunday, so we stayed at this jungle for an extra day to and rest and pray and talk about scripture. Kind of like our own mini church service, well, for Luke and me anyway. I think John and Luke got in an argument about something. And although they won’t tell me anything, I think that John wanted to move on and Luke said we needed to stay an extra day. Luke apparently got his way, but John’s not too happy about it. I can understand both sides; I’m very anxious to finally settle down, and I don’t really want to postpone our search- even for a day. But, I do know that it’s important to take a day of rest and concentration on our Savior, especially now. Oh well, we’ll be moving on tomorrow, so…

            Well, Luke is going for a walk, and so I’d better go; he’s waiting for me.

                                                                                                                        July 15 (later)

            Luke and I just finished our walk and he’s talking to John now. It’s amazing, though. I can’t help but see God’s hand at work here! On our walk, we found a trail, so we started going down that, not really paying attention to where we were headed, just talking, but all of a sudden we saw a little girl looking up at us. She was picking berries, but as soon as she saw us, she ran behind the bush. Luke coaxed her out and started talking to her. She said her name was “Ada Lynn Hull and she was three and a half years old.” She seemed sort of shy around us, but something makes me think she’s quite the opposite otherwise. After we talked to her a little more, I think she began to trust us. Her mom came up looking for her, and was at first a little startled to find us there, but Ada didn’t seem to notice. She just told her mother that she made new friends, CJ and Luke. The mother, whom we later learned is named “Ellie”, got over her surprise and started asking us questions like how old we were, where we were from, if we had family around… that sort of thing. Luke told her that we came from a small town on the border of Illinois and that we were looking for work, and we also had a friend that we were traveling with. I noticed that he didn’t mention anything about our family, but Ellie didn’t seem to notice. She told us that she and her husband Willie lived just a little farther down the path, and that Willie was the pastor of the small church they started in the town. She also said that she might be able to help us out. She’d have to talk to her husband first, but she’s pretty sure that we’ll be able to work for her on their farm. I’m so excited! It’s not certain until we meet together again tomorrow, but she sounded almost positive. I’m glad that we waited an extra day here! I guess that blessings do follow obedience. I’m kind of curious to what John is going to say, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’m so excited! Just think, tomorrow we’ll probably have work!

                                                                                                                        July 16

            Well, it’s all settled, we are working for the Hulls starting tomorrow. We walked to their house yesterday, Luke, John, and I, and we got see their farm. We also met Willie and his children, baby Emma, Matthew, and Ada. Mr. Hull is really nice; I can’t wait to start working for him. Right now I’ll be helping out in the barn, I’m still posing as a boy, but I think I can do it. Also Luke and John will be there if I need help. We’re still going to be in the jungle, I think, but that’s okay, because I like it here. I don’t really know very many people, we’ve only been here a few days, but they all seem friendly enough. They always seem pretty friendly. Well, I’d better get to bed… we start work tomorrow. It’s another step closer to going back home.

July 18

            We started work. It went well, but it is quite tough. I’m not very good at it either; I’m not really used to outside work, and we’ve never had a farm. Sure we had a little garden and a few animals, but not quite as much as the Hulls have. But I’m doing my best, and Luke and John have been helping me.

 It’s also hard not to talk very much around the family (especially for me!). They probably think that I’m rude, or can’t talk or something. I sort of wish that I could just tell them everything, but Luke doesn’t want to do that quite yet. I also think that if I did tell them that I was a girl, they wouldn’t have work for me anymore, and we’d have to leave again, and I really don’t want to do that! It’s really nice being around them, they’re so joyful and peaceful… you can tell this is a Christian atmosphere.

Oh! And we’ve moved in with them. Right now we are sleeping in the hayloft, which takes a little getting used to, but it is really quite comfy, and I think we’re all just so grateful to be with them. They’ve been letting us have meals with them, and they’re paying us a whole 15 cents a week each! We might get to go home early at that rate! I know that the boys are really appreciative and are working really hard; I just wish that I could show my appreciation better by working as hard as they are. I see them and Mr. Hull out there working so hard, and I’m hardly working. I often have to push down the urge to go and help Mrs. Hull with the children, making meals, or just bringing out drinks for the men; something that I could actually do and I think would be helping more. But, I guess Luke is right and for now we’ll just keep it to ourselves.

                                                                                                            July 21

I was mowing their lawn today, and it was really hot. I was only about half way done, but I was already getting tired. The mower seemed to get heavier each second that I pushed it. I hoped that Luke or John would just come and help me, but I knew it was a false hope because both of them were painting the house or roof or something. Just as I was getting to where I couldn’t do it anymore, I felt someone take it from me. I looked behind, and there was Mr. Hull. I looked at him somewhat inquisitively, and he just smiled back in assurance. I gave what I hoped was an appreciative smile and went and got a drink for us from the well. I was a little nervous of what he might be thinking right then, but I tried to divert my attention away from the if/ thens and maybes to the water I was unintentionally pouring on my feet.

I brought back the water to him, and he nodded his appreciation. He told me to take a break over in the shade for a bit while he finished up because I had worked hard. If only! I knew that if John or Luke had been doing this, they would have finished the whole yard… and in less time than it took me to do half, and I’m sure Mr. Hull knew it too. I think he knows that I can’t do as well or as much as the other boys, and has been giving me easier jobs… I don’t think that he’d ever put me on the roof, or set me to scraping or painting his house. Which I don’t mind- I like the easier jobs- it’s just I wish I could be more of a help. Besides wanting to keep my job for my sake as well as Luke, John, and my family’s, they’re really nice people, and I just want to help; prove myself worthy of all they’ve given me.

When he was done, he came over and sat by me, and drank some water. I got a little nervous because I was afraid of what he’d say to me. Did he not want my help anymore? Would Luke, John and I have to leave? Was he mad at me? What would Luke say if he found out? All those questions were filling my mind when he broke the silence with his own question. “Is all this work too hard for you?” I shook my head, ‘no’ but that didn’t seem a sufficient enough answer for him. He was looking intently at me as if trying to figure out for himself the answer, but I looked away. I didn’t want him to see through my meaningless suggestions to the buried truths inside. Then again, maybe he already had. He shook his head as if pushing his thoughts aside and said, “As long as you’re sure.” I nodded, and he stood up. I followed his lead, and headed toward the barn. I knew that there were some things in there that needed to be done, and I knew just how to do them. I could make sure that the animals all had food, I could clean the stalls, I could collect eggs… everything that we (well, mostly Luke) helped with at home.

I miss home so much. I asked Luke why he never mentioned our family to the Hulls, but he seems to think that if we told them that we ran away, they might make us go back. I tend to think that they’ll understand, but you never know. They do think family is very important (well, I do too, but that’s beside the point), and they also think that families should stick together during this hard time. That’s pricked my conscience even more.  Are we really doing the right thing? Oh, How I miss them!

I imagine what mom, dad and Kateri and doing right now; probably reading a Bible passage together before bed. Luke and I try to do that still, too, but it’s just not the same.

I feel bad about leaving them to do all the chores, but Luke didn’t seem to think we had a choice. Luke used to help dad with the animals, yard work, chopping wood… and I used to help mom and Kateri with cooking, canning, pumping water, cleaning… but I hope they’re managing without me; I’m sure they are. There’s no school this time of year, so I imagine Kateri has had more time to help mom…

I can’t imagine how Mrs. Hull does it all! She has three little ones to take care of, keep the house clean, garden (although Mr. Hull and now Luke, John and I also help with that), cook and can. She seems to manage although I can imagine she could use some help. Maybe if we did tell them that I was a girl, they’d still let me live and work with them, and help her. But, I guess we can’t be certain, and we should just keep going the way we are for now.

Luke also confided in me that John is not a Christian, although he’s not particularly against it. Luke thinks that being here and around Willie is a great thing for John, and I would have to agree. He needs to be here as much as we do, and I just can’t ruin that for him right now.

                                                                                                            July 22

Today is Sunday, so we don’t have any chores to do (well, besides essential ones like feeding the animals). We went to their church with them and heard Willie preach. The services are quite the same as they were back home, well, except Mr. Hull is a lot younger than Pastor Simmons.

We also met some of the hobos from the jungle that we were staying at. Mrs. Hull told us that they used to be missionaries to local hobo jungles until God provided for them to settle here. It’s so neat to hear about other’s stories and how God has called and used them for different things!

                                                                                                            July 24

Today I found something I never in a million years thought that I would’ve found. In the hay beside John’s bed I found a ten dollar bill. “Where in the world did he get that?!” I asked myself, only, I knew all too well. The picture of Carl passed through my mind. I know that John thinks that Carl’s a thief, but I still find no excuse to take from him. I tried to defend John in the jury of my mind, but it was useless. What he did was wrong, plain and simple.

No more than five seconds later, I heard footsteps approaching. To my dismay, I turned to face none other than John. He looked surprised, and somewhat angry. I mean, I guess if I had done something wrong, I wouldn’t find it too nice to have someone come across it. I was a little frightened of the look of fright that crossed his face. What did he think I was going to do? What did he think I could do?

“I see you’ve found my little secret.” He said rather hoarsely.

I nodded, still in shock.

“Let’s not tell anyone about this, okay?”

I stared, and he glared. What was I going to do? Throw a lie at him and tell him what he wanted to hear? But was it a lie? Would I really be bold enough to tell? Or would I be numb enough not to? “Does Luke know?” I found myself saying. He was about to answer when a startling voice came from behind. “Does Luke know about what?” I pinched myself. Nope, not a nightmare, this was real. And I was literally in the middle of the situation with no turning back.

I looked blankly and somewhat pleadingly at Luke. This couldn’t be happening. They both were waiting for me to reply. But I couldn’t, no words came. Luke repeated his question, fully expecting an answer, but this time he looked at John.

John may not have known my brother for very long, but anyone could’ve heard the sternness of Luke’s voice and known now was not a time for jokes. He slowly held up the bill. Luke looked at me, and nodded. Grateful for escape, I left. This was one time when my curiosity did not get the best of me.

I have no idea what is passing between the two of them, but I am certainly glad that I am not there. I am sitting in a tree, unsuccessfully sorting out my thoughts on paper.

                                                                                                            July 25

Luke came and talked to me and told me we are not going to tell anyone about John. I don’t know what possessed my brother to say such a thing, but I could tell he was in no mood for questions right now, so I nodded my head. I was burning to ask why, but I didn’t dare. It was obvious that the two were trying their hardest to ignore each other, but ironically they had no problem with it when they were with the Hulls. I guess they really don’t want them to know. As for me, I’m doing my best to forget this whole thing ever happened. Unfortunately, it’s not working.

                                                                                                            July 27

Today the boys were talking in the barn, and I accidentally walked in on them. I didn’t hear anything, but when they saw me, they both looked at me like I committed some big crime. Then Luke said to John, “Well, I guess it’s good she knows, now I don’t have to try to explain it to her.”  Then they both left. And I was left alone in the barn to wonder what could’ve possibly just happened.

                                                                                                            July 30

It has been a fairly normal week. The boys are back to talking to each other, and they act as if nothing has happened. Whatever they said in the barn must’ve made this change. Whatever did they say? I wouldn’t dare ask, not now. However curious I am (which by the way is VERY curious) it will just have to wait. But what could have happened? Was it forgiveness and repentance that took place? Even so, I don’t see how they seem to have completely erased the issue from their minds while I’m still thinking about it every second. Is it me who’s just not forgiving John? I’m trying not to judge, but I don’t think that’s the whole issue here. I’m more than willing to forgive John, but I feel he has to make it right first. How can I trust that he’s sorry when I haven’t any evidence? Luke seems to, but here is one instance where I can’t totally agree. Granted, I don’t know all the circumstances, but does Luke truly either?

                                                                                                            July 31

Today was so hot and humid, and there was no wind. I fainted. I do sometimes, ever since I was little, so it wasn’t a big deal. But to be honest, I think my thoughts over that past week had more to do with it than the heat. I was walking to the barn, when I just got dizzy and… fell. I could feel someone carrying me to the barn, and I looked up and saw John. To tell the truth, I wasn’t being completely fair to him. All I wanted to say was ‘put me down, I’m fine!’ But I held my tongue. He asked if I was alright and if I wanted him to go get Mrs. Hull or someone. Before I thought, I said, “NO!” and to be honest, I think it scared him a little. I felt sort of bad, so I said, “If you want to help, just go get Luke, but don’t tell the Hulls, and don’t alarm him.” I had to say that because right now it looked like he wanted to go around the entire farm yelling, CJ’s going to die! And the way he was acting seriously made me think the truly thought so. I could picture Luke coming flying back here, just to see me perfectly fine. I almost smiled at the image, but I know Luke would find it anything but funny. John stood there for a second, probably considering whether to leave me or not, but must have decided to go get Luke. He really is nice, and means well, but I’m still having trouble thinking of any possible solution as to why he’d think it was right to take the money. Was it justified in his mind? Because it certainly wasn’t in mine. I didn’t have time to really finish my thoughts when Luke came in and saw me just sitting there. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” John walked through the door. “Maybe John could get me some water, though.” He left… no questions asked. I waited until I was sure he was out of earshot before saying, “Luke, I can’t get what he did out of my mind.”

“You’re going to have to. There’s nothing we can do about it now. What’s done is done.”

It did not sound like my brother. But I had no time to question, because in walked John.

I’ve been thinking about it all night. Why would Luke just say that? He had to have had reason. Then it hit me. Was he trying to protect us? It suddenly made sense… if the Hulls were to find out, Luke and I’d be back on the train, and there would be no telling what would happen to John.

August 2

Right now I am sad, upset, angry, worried, and a whole bunch of different feelings all mixed together that I couldn’t even start to explain. Luke and I got in an argument today. Seldom do Luke and I get into arguments, but I absolutely hate it when we do. And the worst part is, I think Mrs. Hull heard part of it. The whole thing was just so embarrassing, and I think Mrs. Hull found out part of our secret. Now we’re probably going to have to move, and it’s all my fault.

Luke was kind of in a bad mood today, fairly unusual for him. But, I think that he was upset at some things that he saw in the hobo jungle when he went with Mr. Hull today. Not mad really, I don’t think, but sad and contemplative. I think one of the hobos was hurt or something, I don’t know exactly, and he wouldn’t tell me; which kind of started it all. I shouldn’t have pushed so much, but I really was curious as to what was bothering him so much. Now I can see I should’ve just stopped. I told him that he doesn’t tell me anything, and that’s when he started getting mad. He said, “I don’t tell you anything?! What about you? When were you going to tell me about what happened to you on Saturday?”

Now he had caught me off guard. “I… I didn’t think it would be of that much interest to you.” Was the best thing I could come up with on the spot.

“Now what do you mean by that, Celia? I’m always interested in you.”

“Well, I…” I started to mumble, but just then something caught his eye. This journal. And interrogation started anew.

“What’s this? Is this another thing you’ve snuck along? Another thing you didn’t tell me about?” And with that he grabbed my journal off the ground and began skimming through it. Now, normally at this point in our journey, I don’t think he would have minded so much that I snuck an extra little thing. I kept it hidden under my blanket so no one would ever know, and it really didn’t take up that much space; then I remembered. I had written about the secret as well. And this, however, this was not a good time for him to find it. “What if Mr. or Mrs. Hull found this? Or anyone else for that matter. They’d know everything!”

“Well, maybe it’s time they knew. Don’t you think they’ve believed our lies long enough?” That was a little harsh to say right then, and I knew it, but at that moment, I really felt he deserved it. And now I know why the apostle Paul tells us to pray continually.

He stared at me for a moment, kind of taken aback, I think. I’m not generally like this to him, and I’m not sure that he knew what to think. Just then I looked over and saw Mrs. Hull staring right at me. She had these sad, confused but almost understanding eyes. I didn’t care, though. I knew what she was thinking, and I knew we were going to have to leave. I snatched my journal from my brother’s hands and I ran out the door.

It was about dusk, so I had enough light to see, even though I was partially blinded by my tears, but it was dark enough that they’d not have an easy time finding me… if they even bothered to look.

                                                                                                August 2 (Late!)

“I’m still mad.” After about an hour or so, Luke came looking for me. I didn’t avoid him, but I didn’t have any intentions of helping him out either. He finally found me and came and sat beside me. And for a minute neither of us said anything; we just listened to the crickets and the owls.

Then I said, “I’m still mad, you know.” Really I knew it was only partially true, but like a five year old, I just wanted to gauge his reaction.

He seemed to ignore me. “Mrs. Hull talked to me for a minute after you left.”

It wasn’t fair. I wanted to act mad, but I was intrigued. Curiosity was always my down fall. “What did she say? What did you tell her?” I asked in the grumpiest attitude I could possibly do, although I’m sure he saw through to my true motives.

“She said she didn’t mean to intrude, but she was coming to tell us that dinner was ready. She had only heard the last of what you said…” he looked straight at me, “but you and I both know that that’s all she needed to hear.”

He had broken through my childish anger, and humbled me more than I thought was possible. “I’m sorry, Luke, I really didn’t mean to.” And then I went on more cautiously, “Are… are we going to have to leave?”

He looked so solemn, and I was fearful of what he was about to say next. “She was about to ask me questions, but I didn’t care to answer, so I told her I should probably find you. She asked if I wanted her or Willie to help, but I said this was something that I needed to do. Now she’s going to probably going to go tell Mr. Hull.” He paused, I’m guessing because he saw fresh tears forming in my eyes. He reached out, gave me a hug, then continued, “It will be alright, but she did ask that she could talk to you tomorrow morning.”

“What… what about?”

“She didn’t say, so all I could do is guess. However, I’m sure she’s going to want to know things… and you’re going to have to give her answers. Now I know I’m to blame, too, so I’ll come if you want, to help, but just know, she did ask for you.”

“I’ll go. But what do I tell her?”

“Whatever you want to tell her; it’s you’re decision. She already knows you’re a girl, so that could be the secret she’ll think you were talking about. She might make us leave, but at this point, it’s hard to tell. She would probably understand and let us stay, however, if you choose to tell more, I’m certain we’ll be heading for home.”

The tears started racing down my cheeks. He helped me up, and slowly we began to walk back toward the barn. I know the right thing to do would be to tell the truth, but, what about in this circumstance? I just don’t know what I’m going to do. And that’s why I’m still mad.

                                                                                                            August 3

Well, I talked to Mrs. Hull today, and Mr. Hull. After breakfast they asked me to stay and talk for a little bit while the boys started on the chores, and helped Ada and Matthew do some things in the barn. I had butterflies in my stomach, and I was nervous because I didn’t know what I was going to say… or what they were going to say.

I wasn’t in my usual attire (well, what it had been for the past few weeks)- Luke’s old jeans and suspenders, and a few of his old shirts that we got from the pile that mom was saving to collect money from when old Danny (that’s what we’ve come to call him) came around on his yearly visits to trade old clothes for six to eight cents a pound. No, today I was in my work dress; it was much more comfortable for me, and besides, they already knew.

Once the others were gone, Mrs. Hull put baby Emma in her crib, and poured some tea for us. Neither of them seemed mad, I observed, but it was obvious they weren’t exactly… happy. As Mrs. Hull was preparing the tea Mr. Hull had his head in his hand; praying, I assumed. And, that’s what I should’ve been doing, I know, but I didn’t. I just sat, there anxiously anticipating what was to come. ‘How could I have gotten myself into this mess?’, I kept wondering.

After the tea was poured, Mrs. Hull started off conversation. “I think if we are going to talk and be friends, I think we’ll need to know your real name. It’s not really CJ, is it?”

“No.” I meekly replied. “My name’s Celia, Celia Joy.”

“Well, Celia, first off I want you to know that Ellie and I are not mad at you, or Luke.” Mr. Hull said, then went on, “There are a lot of younger girls who pose as boys because it is safer when riding the rails. Is that what you and your brother were doing?”

“Yes.” So far so good; maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, I thought.

“But, we want you to know that you can always be completely honest with us, you and your brother.” He added.

I nodded. Maybe my first impressions of this meeting were the most accurate.

“Are there other things we should know, also? Things that maybe you thought were also safest just between you?” He asked.

I could tell that she saw me hesitating, and after a moment she added, “You know you can tell us if there are. We won’t be mad at you.”

They were making this so difficult. I wanted to say something, I truly did, but Luke’s words kept floating back to mind, “If you choose to tell more, I’m certain we’ll be heading for home.” I decided not to tell. “There’s nothing more.” I felt horrible as the lie slowly slid off my tongue. But I knew it was safest this way, well, at least I thought so.

They both looked a little skeptical, but they let the matter drop for now. I sheepishly went on, “We were afraid that if you found out I was a girl, you wouldn’t have work for me, and… and we’d have to leave.”

“We won’t make you leave.” Mrs. Hull was quick to say.

Mr. Hull went on, “We knew that a lot of the hobos pose as boys, and we kind of had a feeling that that’s what you were doing too.”

I looked down at the table, so they did have that idea…

“However, we do still have work for you, that is, if you’d like to continue working for us.”

“Oh, yes.” I said maybe too emphatically.

“Well, maybe you’d better hear what my wife has to say first.”

“Well, my husband has the two boys to help him, and I don’t have anyone to help me; and it’s pretty tough taking care of three children, and keeping up with all the housework and cooking. While I can do it, it’d be much easier, and not to mention more enjoyable if you’d help me.”

My eyes must have shown with the relief and joy I was feeling. I wasted no time in saying. “I will, and thank you.”

And it was set; I am now helping Mrs. Hull (though now she insists I call her Ellie).

I ran right out and told Luke, and he was almost as relieved and glad as I was. But when he quietly asked me what I had told them, the joy left me as I solemnly replied, “nothing, absolutely nothing.”

                                                                                                August 6

I’ve been helping Ellie with the kids these past few days, and it’s really much more enjoyable for me than working in the field or farm. Baby Emma, I learned, is fifteen months, Matthew is almost three, and Ada is three and a half. Ellie told me that Ada wasn’t actually her own, but left by her mother in one of the tents at the hobo jungle when she was only a few months old. She and Willie took her home and raised her as their own. She’s so adorable, though, and talkative!

 Ada’s sort of like my little helper. She follows me around, and helps me with the dishes, laundry, meals, pretty much everything I do.  I also learned that she likes giving hugs. Whenever I’m sad, or discouraged, she’ll come right over and give me a hug. It’s encouraging. And her little smiles are priceless. Her three year old chitter chatter also keeps me distracted from my own troubling thoughts.

I’m so glad that this all worked out. I should’ve just trusted God. I guess I’m just going to have to trust him with the rest, too. It’s just so hard not knowing what the future holds, only who holds the future. That should be enough, however, because I know that he is faithful, and with me always.

                                                                                                         August 8

I’ve been thinking a lot about John today. I see him out in the fields, and I can’t help but think of what he did. Why am I having so much trouble with this? Nobody else seems to be struggling with this issue but me. Did I do the right thing about not telling? I was hoping if he were here long enough, he might confess on his own, but it doesn’t seem to be turning out that way. Why did I even have to see that troubling ten dollar bill that day?

                                                                                                            August 10

            Today while I was folding laundry with Ada, I must’ve gotten carried away with my thoughts. Thinking about how much Ada reminds me of Kateri, made me realize just how much I miss my family.

            “Are you okay?” Ada asked after a few minutes of silence, which must have seemed like an eternity to my talkative little helper.

            “Oh, yes.” I said as I pulled myself back into reality. “I just got lost in my thoughts.”

            She paused a moment, probably thinking how someone could possibly get lost in their thoughts, but must have decided to move on because she began talking about the letter that she got from her grandma in the mail today.

            “Mail!” I suddenly thought. That was it. I decided that I was going to write a letter back home. Luke said he didn’t want the Hulls to know about our family right now, but he never said anything about writing to them (though I won’t take the chance of asking him). And if I don’t put a return address, then they’d not be able to write back, and no one would ever know.

                                                                                                            August 12

            Today was church, and afterward I noticed that John was talking with Mr. Hull. I’m so glad! He seems so interested in the sermons, and I’m excited for him. I just keep praying; and I know prayer works wonders.         

I wrote mom a letter today. I need to come up with the 3 cents for a stamp somehow, though. Luke has the money we’ve earned here, and knows just how much is there, so there’s no use using that. I guess I’ll just hold on to my letter for now; God will provide the needed change in his timing.                                                         

                                                                                                August 15

Okay, I thought that with staying here and all… well, I thought that if I gave John enough time, he’d maybe confess on his own… but it doesn’t seem to be working. It seems like the money is the farthest thing from his mind right now.

I saw him sneaking out last night from the barn. I don’t know where he was going; I tried to see, but I just couldn’t make out where he went. I guess I shouldn’t be ‘spying’ on him, but my curiosity got the best of me. I guess I’m just worried about him. I don’t want him to be doing any more stealing, or anything like that. I know it’s up to him what he does or doesn’t do, but I guess I just want to protect him from the potential consequences.

            But, what if I was jumping to conclusions, and he didn’t really steal it from Carl? What if he didn’t steal it from anyone? I really didn’t have any concrete evidence, but then again he did seem guilty. Where would he get the money anyway?

            I know that this is up to John, but I just can’t seem to get myself out of the situation. What if I am right (which is all the evidence points to right now)? I’ve seen the money. I’m pretty sure I know what’s happened. Maybe I should talk to Luke and see what they were saying in the barn the other day. I should be going straight to John, but I’ve kind of passed the situation on to Luke. Besides, I don’t want to confront John. What if he’s innocent and I’m wrong. What impression would that give about my Christian faith? Then again, what would Jesus want me to do? Would he want me to sit around judging John, waiting for him to tell on himself? He doesn’t even have the conviction of the Holy Spirit… yet. Will he ever give himself away?

                                                                                                            August 17

            Luke said to be faithful in prayer for John; Luke talked to him today. John’s seriously considering becoming a Christian. I’m sure the Hulls are praying for him, and I’m praying for him, and I know that Luke’s praying for him… John has no chance!

                                                                                                            August 20

            I saw John sneaking out again last night, and I’ve decided to play detective. Next time he goes out, I am going to trail him. I decided that I can’t tell anyone about the thievery anyway, that is, until I got evidence. So that’s what I’m going to do… tonight.

                                                                                                            August 21

            John didn’t sneak out last night… well, not that I could tell. However, I did talk to him today. He asked me about my faith, and I did my best to answer. 1 Peter 3:15 says: But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. I tried my best to obey this verse, and all the while I prayed.

We were both doing chores in the barn- he was stacking hay, and I was milking the cows. John began talking to me an asking me questions about being a Christian. Then he said, “I just don’t want to become enslaved to anything. I want to be free.”

I thought for a minute and said, “Well, I think freedom is somewhat of an abstraction. We are all slaves of something, whether we know it or not. We are slaves of whatever we put first in our lives; whether it is to ourselves, sin, or Christ. But, in John 15:15 Jesus says, ‘I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you.’ When we follow Jesus, we are not considered slaves, he calls us his friends.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to follow.” He looked almost reluctant to go on, but at length, he did, “I’m afraid to submit.”

“My mom always used to say, ‘fear of submission is submission to fear.’”

            He didn’t say anything more, but seemed to be thinking on what was already said. I just hope I didn’t overstep my bounds. I’m glad he was asking questions, though… I’m still praying.           

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        August 23

            Mrs. Hull and I were baking berry pies, and all three of the kids were sleeping. After all of the pies were in the oven, we sat down to share a cup of tea. I always love this time of day when Ellie and I can take a break and have time to talk. We always talk about different things, around the house, the seasons, the kids… luckily we always seem to evade personal matters that I am inwardly burning to discuss, but would never imagine actually saying it aloud. However today, I wasn’t so fortunate. She brought up the topic of my family and asked me where I came from. I looked down at the table, not quite sure how to answer. I didn’t want to go against Luke, however, I really couldn’t see the validity of his concerns. She left her seat and put a hand on my back. I think she was about to say something, but was interrupted by John, who suddenly came bursting through the door.   

            “Fire!” he yelled as he was panting for breath.

            Ellie and I looked at him dumbfounded. “Where?” she asked in an alarmed voice.

            “The… barn.”

            Ellie grabbed some potato sacks and I the water bucket, and we followed John as he raced back outside. The fire was burning just a small section of the barn, but was quickly consuming more and more. Luke was helping Mr. Hull get the animals out as we began pouring water and beating the fire with the sacks. It didn’t take Luke and Mr. Hull much time to do that (since some animals were out grazing already), and it wasn’t long before they resumed their positions helping us. I just kept praying.

            As I was running back to the well to get more water, I notice a little figure running toward the barn. I dropped the bucket and ran full speed toward, Ada. I just reached her, and brought her back to the well. She was crying and asking for mama and papa. I told her that they were fine, but she insisted she wanted to help. So I let her pump the water and made her promise to stay there as I swapped buckets to fill. It worked out rather nicely to have an extra hand just to fill the buckets, but I had to watch her vigilantly the whole time. The well was pretty far from the fire, but if I took my eyes off for a second…

            After a few minutes, it began to sprinkle, then rain. God certainly is watching out for us. The fire began to die down, and shortly, it was all done. The whole barn wasn’t completely ruined, but it was in pretty rough condition. The whole backside of it was ruined, which contained the hay and most of the animal stalls. Surprisingly enough, however, the hayloft, a few stalls and the tools on the front were not damaged at all by the horrific fire.

            We don’t know what started it, and I don’t know if we’ll ever find out for sure. But, I do know that Mr. Hull thinks that maybe one of the lanterns was tipped by a chicken, or cat or something. John isn’t so sure. He seems to think that all the lanterns were and always are out during the afternoon. I don’t know about Luke, but as for me, I don’t know, I’m just glad that no one was hurt.

            Even though the hayloft was not touched by the fire, Ellie insists that we move our things to the house and sleep there for now. So, I am sleeping in the nursery with the kids, and the boys are sleeping in the living room. It was really nice of her, but now I don’t know how I am going to follow John out, but I’m determined that I’ll find out a way… if he decides to do it again.

                                                                                                                        August 24

            I went shopping with Ellie today to get coffee and sugar (pretty much all they ever need to get from the store). She actually did the shopping, and I took Ada and Matthew and kept them occupied. We were walking down the aisles just looking at what they had to offer, when I saw this elderly lady who had dropped some of her things. I went over and helped her, and the kids did, too. After we did that, we walked down a few more isles, and then saw her again. This time she was trying unsuccessfully to reach an object from the top shelf. I went over and handed the object to her. Finally we found Ellie and Emma again, and we went to the register to pay. While we were there, I noticed that the lady was struggling to carry her bags. I looked over to Ellie, and she nodded her head. I took Ada, and together we managed to help the lady carry the bags. When we had gotten to where she wanted to go, she gave me a nickel. I looked at her for a minute before replying, “Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t want your money, we were glad to help; weren’t we, Ada.” She nodded her agreement, but the lady insisted. “You were a blessing to me,” she had said, “so I want to give you something to show my appreciation.”

            When we got home, I told Ellie that Ada and I would like to take a walk. So she said that Ada and I could walk down to the post office, since I offered to get the mail, and I also got to mail the letter. It worked out so nicely, and I got two extra cents that I am going to give to Ada to put in the offering plate on Sunday.

            I just still can’t believe how God worked that out. It was so perfect! It was just a good reminder that he is in control and we don’t have to worry about anything. He takes care of our needs… and sometimes gives us little blessing besides, like he today for me.

                                                                                                                        August 26

I am rejoicing with the Heavens today for I have a new brother in Christ. John has decided to give his life to the Lord! I am so excited for him! After church he told Pastor Hull that he wanted to accept Jesus into his heart, and he prayed the prayer. I just don’t even know what else to write… I’m so happy!

                                                                                                                        August 27                   Now that John’s a Christian, I was hoping that he’d try to make right what he’s done. But, then I started thinking, can he? Will we ever see Carl (well, I guess whoever he’s stolen from… although I’m pretty sure it’s Carl) again to give           back the money? Is he even planning on giving back the money? I hope so!                                                  

August 29

When I tucked Ada in for her afternoon nap, I saw John out the window. I guess I started thinking about him, and I must’ve gotten a pensive look on my face. Ada came over and hugged me, and asked me what was wrong. “Nothing.” I said as I kissed her and brought her back into bed. But she didn’t believe me. She wouldn’t drop the matter, either. “Why won’t you tell me?” she persisted.

“I did, Ada, and nothing’s wrong.”

“Were you missing home?” she guessed, completely ignoring my last statement.

“I do miss home.”

“Well, Celia, I’m glad you’re here with us now. I’m a big sister to Matthew and

Emma, but you are my big sister.” With that she closed her eyes. I turned off the light, and closed the door whispering, “I love you.”

            I can’t get her words out of her head, “You are my big sister.” It brought tears to my eyes. It just reminded me, yes, I miss my family, but God has also blessed me with another one. Not to take their place, no one could ever take the place of my family, but he gave me another one also to encourage and love me during this hard time.

                                                                                                                        August 31

            I caught John sneaking out again. To tell the truth, I almost forgotten about my resolve to follow him these past couple of weeks, but when I saw him, I knew exactly what I was going to do. Luckily for me, the moon was almost full, and therefore very bright. I saw John going down the porch steps, and as soon as I knew that he was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear the door softly squeak when I opened it, I followed him.

            The chase turned out to be a little harder than I expected because, even though we were out of earshot of the house, he wasn’t making any noise. It’s like he knew I was following and wasn’t making it any easier for me to do so. He also kept dodging between trees, which also contributed to the challenge. One time, though, he did crack a stick. Surprisingly, however, instead of standing still and looking around to see if anyone heard (like I would’ve imagined he’d do), he quickly stepped behind a tree… the one I was behind. He almost stepped on my foot, and I jumped back. He turned around surprised that I was there (well, I guess surprised is a little bit of an understatementJ), but I said, “It’s okay, it’s just me, Celia.”

            He looked at me for a minute, not exactly smiling either. But when I went to ask him a question, he put his hand over my mouth and said, “shhh, we’ll lose him.”  Before I could say another word, he ran from behind the tree to another. I quickly followed, still careful not to make any noise. Who was he following? This was not expected.

            I felt like we were on a wild goose chase. The person we were following didn’t seem to being going anywhere in particular, he actually didn’t seem to know where he was going. I just kept following John, as he followed the faint silhouette, just barely visible moving among the dark trees.

            This was taking longer than I had imagined. I hoped we weren’t going to get lost. The forest seemed to be forewarning me about a danger to come. The stillness of the night seemed to mock the uncertainty and calamity within me. Were we ever to reach the unknown destination?

            Thoughts were swirling uncontrollably through my head… and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. John leaped over the log, but I didn’t, and tripped over it.  I momentarily forgot the assumed silence as I gave a yell of surprise, and pain.

            “Are you alright?” John asked.

            “Sure.” I said, “I’m fine.” I went to stand up, but sat back down on the log instead. “John, don’t you think it’s time to go back? I’m as curious as you are, but I don’t want to go any further.”

            “Yeah, we can go back.” He said, and then added, “I lost him anyway. I think you scared him off.”

            Just then we heard a voice coming from the trees. “Is that you, Celia, John?”

            John and I both jumped as we heard Luke’s voice coming from the shadows. “Luke?” John said. “What are you doing out here?”

            “What are you two doing out here?”

            “I saw John sneaking out, so I decided to follow him.” I replied when no one else seemed willing to answer. By now my ankle was starting to hurt, and I just wanted to get back home. Standing around answering question for question was not likely to get us anywhere.

            “Why did you sneak out, John?” he then asked. “I don’t suppose you just came out for a midnight stroll through the woods.”

            “I’ve been seeing someone near the barn every night; or, at least I thought so, and I’ve been trying to trail them to find out where they go.”

            He smiled, and we looked at him, confused. “Are you laughing at me?”

            “No. I just think it’s funny that you’ve been getting up in the middle of the night to trail me.”

            “What?” John said. “You? I’ve been getting up to trail you?”

            “Celia, why’d you scream?” He asked, as if remembering I was there.

            “I tripped over the log, and it scared me.”

            “What were you doing here?” John asked Luke; as if he needed more evidence before it all made sense.

            “I keep seeing someone in the woods at night, so I was trying to follow him.” He said. “Yet again, however, I’ve lost him.” He looked at me, then back to John. “I did find a possibility, however.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “A possibility to why I always lose him.”

            “What?”

            “Just before you screamed, I came to a river; perhaps he has a boat.”

            “Did… did you have the same suspicions that I did.” John asked quietly.

            “What do you mean?” Luke questioned, although he sounded as if he already knew.

            “Well…” he started, but he didn’t seem quite sure whether to go on or not. ‘Hurry up!’ I felt like saying. What were they thinking? What suspicions did they have? “Do you think that he could’ve started the fire?” he finally finished.

            Luke seemed to contemplate what to say next. “I’m not sure.” Was all he said.

            “We can try tracking him tomorrow night.” John said.

            “Maybe.” Luke replied. “But I think he may be intimidated to come back now.”

            I felt horrible. Luke and John may have been able to catch someone who started a fire, and I ruined the chance. To be honest, I probably wanted to know about our fire-starting prowler more than they did.  

            Luke gave me a piggy back ride back to the house. I can’t sleep, so I’m sitting in the living room writing in my diary while the boys finish talking.

                                                                                                                        September 1

            I didn’t realize that I had gotten a scratch on the side of my face from the fall, but apparently Ada did… and at the breakfast table, too. She said, “How’d you get that big scratch on your face, Celia?” And of course everyone turned to look. I sat there for a minute, unsure of what to say. I could feel Luke and John’s gaze focused straight on me. Finally I said, “I…fell.”

            “Are you alright?” Mrs. Hull inquired.

            “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I just got a little scratch.”

            “Where did you fall?” Mr. Hull asked.

            Since when did a little scratch mean so much? “I’m not sure exactly.” I said. It’s true, I didn’t know where I fell, but I wouldn’t tell them what I did know about it, either.

I could tell his eyes questioned the truth to my statement, but his mouth said nothing more.

                                                                                                                        September 2

            Luke and I went early to church with Mr. Hull this morning. But when we got there, we were shocked as to what we saw: windows were broken, books thrown around, some pews were destroyed; it looked like complete chaos. ‘Who would do such a thing?’ I wondered. We all stood there a minute looking at the mess, taking it all in. Then Luke said, “Well, looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

            And Mr. Hull added, “How fast do you think we can work in an hour?”

            I could tell they were both trying to make light of the situation, although we all knew the true severity of the matter. I couldn’t do too much still because of my ankle, but I tried not to let Mr. Hull know; before he could ask me to do anything big, I got down on the floor and began picking up books. Luke and Mr. Hull began moving the broken pews to the side, then they began sweeping, and picking up the broken glass. Mr. Hull went back to the house to get some things, and Luke and I finished cleaning. “Do you think that the fire in the barn wasn’t an accident? Do you think that this could be related?” I asked Luke when I couldn’t hold in my curiosity any longer.

            “Possibly.” Was all he’d say.

            I could tell that all this bothered him more than he was letting on. “Luke, this couldn’t have been an accident.” He seemed to be ignoring me, but I went on anyway. “Even if it wasn’t related to the barn, and that was an accident, THIS,” I pointed around the room, even though he wasn’t watching me, “this, was intentional.” Yup, still ignoring me. I was going to try one more time. “I think we should pray for whoever did this.” That seemed to get his attention. He looked up at me with an expression that seemed to say, “Pray for who? Are you crazy?” But as he looked at me, he could see the seriousness in my expression, and he must’ve realized that I was right. We did need to pray. “I agree.” He said with sadness in his voice, and walked over toward me so we could pray together.

September 4

            Tonight we all played monopoly as a part of the Hull’s family night. I had never heard of it before, but it’s actually quite fun. You roll a dice and move your piece around a board, and try to get the most money and properties. It was a very long game, however, it took us a good part of the night to play it.

            I noticed that Luke kept looking out the window towards the barn, probably trying to see if our visitor decided to show up again. I thought that he’d probably have given up on the whole thing after our rendezvous in the woods, but I guess after the vandalism at church on Sunday he’s more than determined to catch our culprit. I’d have to say I’m pretty curious, too.

                                                                                                                        September 5

            Luke was alone in the barn today milking the cow, so I had time to ask him a question that I’d been wanting to ask for a long time. “Luke, do you think John’s ever going to give back the money?”

            “I’m not sure.” He nonchalantly said as he continued milking the cow.

            “Do you think he wants to?”

            After that question he turned around, and stared at me as if I had two heads or something. He just looked at me for a minute, with a confused expression on his face, before replying, “Well, I would say so.” In a subtly sarcastic tone.

            What did he mean by that? Was there something I was missing? He truly puzzles me sometimes!

                                                                                                                        September 6

            We went apple picking today: Ada, Matthew, and I. It was a nice, sunny fall day, so I decided to take the younger kids for a walk over the hill to where I knew there were a few apple trees. It was fun to watch them play follow the leader, and see how many apples they could pick. Ada enjoyed climbing the trees to get the best ones from the top. It made her feel special to pretend to be so tall. Matthew tried it, too, although I mostly just held him up to pick them. It made me nervous to watch him climb trees and try to keep up with his sister. Unfortunately, we found I was nervous with good reason. As I went to help Ada down from a higher branch, Matthew decided to try to get down on his own, and fell. The branch he fell from wasn’t a very tall branch, but it was certainly a pretty big fall for a little boy. He began crying, complaining that his hand hurt. Fortunately that was the only thing he fell on and hurt, but I was hoping he didn’t break it… especially while I was supposed to be watching him. We all walked back to the house, and Mrs. Hull took care of him. She grew up in a big family, and has seen all kinds of scrapes and booboos (as she calls them). He just bruised and maybe sprained it, but he was fine. I was so glad. I felt so bad for him, and to imagine it was my fault! I’m just glad he was alright. I decided next time we went apple picking, and it was just me, there’d be no more tree climbing!

                                                                                                                        September 8

            When I glanced at the table today, I saw a small pile of letters. In the midst of them, however, I spotted a letter that was postmarked from Illinois. My heart just about stopped as I read the return address… Mrs. Andrews. I looked around to be sure no one could see, and when I felt safe, I grabbed it from the table and ripped it in half, then in half again and again. I went outside to the barn, and I threw it into the barrel of papers to burn. Now as I’m sitting here, writing my thoughts, I’m thinking I should’ve read it before I got rid of it, but I guess I wasn’t really thinking. Oh well, what’s done is done. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go out and see if it’s still there and try to read what it says. I keep imagining what she would’ve said. I thought of telling Luke about it, but the idea passed almost as soon as it came. If Luke didn’t know that I had written in the first place, then I don’t think that this was the best way for him to find out.

                                                                                                                        September 11

            It rained… all day. Some of the leaves are already beginning to change, and now with this rainy, windy weather I am somewhat regretfully reminded that it’s no longer summer.

 I went out to see if the letter was still in the barrel today, but surprisingly it wasn’t there. Well, it probably was, but I just couldn’t seem to find it. I’m hoping it’s still there anyway; I’d hate to imagine who would’ve found it.

                                                                                                            September 12

Last night I heard noise that woke me up, so I went downstairs to investigate. I found that Luke and John were both gone. Although I looked out every window I could, I still couldn’t see them. I was at a loss as to where they had gone. So I tiptoed to the barn to see if they were there, but to my surprise and dismay, I found someone else instead. I was just about able to see his face when I stepped on the cat, and he heard me. (Why must I always be so clumsy and loud?!) My mysterious person turned around to face me… and that’s when I didn’t remember anymore.

I woke up what seemed to be an eternity later on the ground between the barn and the house. Luke and John were hovering over me, John splashing water on my face. “Wh… what happened?” I muttered.

“Are you okay?” Luke anxiously asked.

“I’m fine. What happened?” I repeated.

“That’s what we were hoping you could tell us.” John replied in an even tone.

“Celia, how’d you get knocked out?”

John looked at me with an annoyed, but somewhat amused face and said, “Yeah, how’d you manage it this time? You know, you scared off our suspect again, too.” I however, was hardly amused.

‘Suspect!’ I thought to myself, ‘That’s right!’ I suddenly seemed to remember what had happened. “Luke,” I said, “I… I…” I looked around to be sure we were unaccompanied. Suddenly I had the feeling that we were being watched; that we were no longer alone, if we ever had been. “Can we go inside?” I then groaned and touched my head for effect (just in case we were being watched, I didn’t want to seem suspicious).

He carried me in, and we all sat in the living room. “I saw him.” I stated once we were settled inside.

“What?” John asked, sounding as if he had heard wrong. “What did you say?” Luke also seemed surprised at my sudden declaration.

“I saw the person who has been sneaking around the barn, burning it and vandalizing the church.” John looked at me like I had hit my head harder than any of us thought.

“What did he look like?” Luke asked, encouraging me to go on.

“Well, I only saw him a moment before…” I looked at Luke, and he looked back inquisitively before nodding his head for me to go on. I shook my head. “He was tall, husky, and had eyes that… that scared me.” I shuddered with that last statement.

Luke seemed to realize what had happened. He emerged into deep thought, concern being etched on his face more eminently with each passing second. John still was in denial of all that had just passed. “You mean to tell me that you saw somebody in the barn?” I nodded. “Just now?” Again, I nodded. Horror filled his face as he seemed to finally understand what I was trying to tell them. He slowly went on, “He knocked you out.”

Luke looked at me, gathering his thoughts. “Celia, we saw someone, too. John saw someone out near the barn again tonight, so we decided to follow him. We trailed him to the beginning of the woods when we heard noise in the barn, and ran to see what it was.”

“This is not just someone playing jokes anymore; this is starting to get serious.” John asserted.

“Yeah, and I think that our visitor, or should I say visitors, are smarter than we give them credit for.” Luke added. He then looked down pensively before going on, “John, how did you come to notice the person out near the barn?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Something woke me up, I’m not sure what, but anyway I was awake. I decided to walk over to the window and I saw someone walking around again.”

“Not so conspicuously as previous times, I suppose.” Luke muttered almost inaudibly.

“What?” John questioned.

“Never mind.” He said, then looked at me. “When you first saw him, the person, in the barn, Celia, what was he doing?”

“Um, he…” The eagerness and seriousness that I saw in my brother’s eyes was making me nervous. “He was grabbing a shovel, and some other tools, I think. When I saw him, I ducked back around the corner of the barn. I tried to see who he was or what he was doing, but he had his back turned. He turned around, and started heading out the barn, and closer to where I was. I went to back further into the shadows as he began walking toward the house, but that’s when I accidently stepped on the cat’s tail.” I didn’t realize that I was shaking by the end of my little recollection. John put his hand on me and whispered, ‘you’re fine now.’ Luke was completely lost in thought.

“I think their little scheme tonight has more to it than meets the eye.”

“What do you mean?”

“Celia, maybe your being knocked out was a God-thing.” What was he talking about? I could just hear John saying, ‘Now if God’s so caring and loving as you say he is, then why in the world would he want to do a thing like that for?’ “What I mean is…” Luke started to explain, but then we were interrupted by Mrs. Hull who came down the stairs. Her eyes widened with surprise as she saw each of us wide awake. “Well, were you all having a party without me?”

We all just looked at each other. I wanted to hear what Luke had to say, but I knew that there was no way he’d say it now that Mrs. Hull was here. He wouldn’t want her to know, and become worried; he probably wouldn’t have told me anything, if he’d been given the choice. John gave Luke an annoyed, inquisitive look, but Luke just emphatically shook his head no as if to say, ‘Not now! And don’t even dare to say a thing more.’

After receiving no reply to her banter, Mrs. Hull continued in a more serious tone. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” I was quick to say.

She looked at me suspiciously and seemed about to say something when Luke went on.

“I guess none of us could sleep, so we all decided just to talk and entertain ourselves for awhile with each other’s company.”

We all knew it sounded ridiculous, and Mrs. Hull didn’t seem too convinced of any of it either. But before she could say anything more, John decided to ask a question of his own. “Why are you down here, Mrs. Hull?”

“I heard something about a half hour ago, and I haven’t been able to get to sleep since.” She replied lightly, not allowing herself to fall into the trap of distraction that we all were (perhaps too obviously) trying to set. We all looked at each other. ‘Was the thing that she heard that woke her up the same thing that woke John and me up too?’ She just looked at us all for a second, not quite sure of what to say. “Well, morning will be here before we know it, so we all best get back to sleep.” She finally said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I complied. She turned to go up the stairs, and I followed.

                                                                                                            September 13

I woke up early, and found that Luke was also awake. The house was quiet, dark and cold. The sun was just rising, starting to allow some light to break through and penetrate the darkness. It was strange that not even Mrs. Hull was up yet. Usually the farm was up and moving before the sun… although today must be an exception. Luke was just walking out the door when I came downstairs, so I quickly followed. He must’ve known I was there, but he simply ignored me, walking slowly, pensively around the house. I tried to see what he was looking for, but whatever it was, I suppose he didn’t find it. As he came back around to the front of the house, he turned around and said, “God was certainly watching over us last night.”

I was a little confused; I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I nodded my head anyway, anxious to hear what he would say next. However, when he didn’t say anymore, I urged him on with a question. “What do you think they were doing here last night?”

He looked at me for a second, probably debating whether to tell me or not, but his hesitation lasted only a moment before he replied, “I think they wanted to throw us off.” He paused looking around to be sure no one was listening, then continued a bit softer, “I think that one of them created a noise in the barn to wake us up, then once he knew we were following him, took off toward the woods so we’d be distracted chasing him. After we were out of the way they’d do… something to the house or to those still inside.”

I looked at him a bit skeptically. Sure it made sense, but it was horrendous to think someone would want to harm them. Why would someone, or more than one someone want to harm the Hulls, or, us?

“Celia, I know I always remind you that ‘curiosity killed the cat’, but I believe that last night your curiosity could’ve possibly saved us from another one of his… or their schemes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, as horrible as it sounds, I believe your being knocked out was a God thing.” My face must have still heralded confusion, because Luke went on, “Well, I think the person was going toward the house to do… something, and when he saw you, well I think you scared him off.”

I rolled my eyes, here we go again. “Luke, I’m sorry I scared him off…” I said in an exasperated tone. I thought he was being serious, but now I come to find out it’s just another addition to his teasing. ‘Why couldn’t it have been John that scared him off this time.’ I wondered, because I knew that Luke wouldn’t be making fun of John like this.

“Celia, I’m not making fun of you.” He said as if reading my thoughts. “I truly think God was watching over us. If you didn’t show up, who knows what he might’ve done!”

He was being serious. Well, if he believed that, I wouldn’t be the one to try to deter him. But, suddenly it was like reality hit once again. “Luke, we need to tell Mr. Hull.”

“I know,” he said slowly, “I’ve been thinking about it all night. John thought we ought to tell him, but at first I was against the idea. I didn’t want to worry them. But, now I realize we need help.” I nodded. “Right after breakfast, you, John and I will tell Mr. Hull what happened.

                                                                                                            September 14

Today, I was making the final preparations for lunch, when to my surprise, I turned around to face John. He looked somewhat hesitant like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to say it, or was debating if he even wanted to say anything at all.

“Celia, I’ve been thinking a lot about the incident…” I looked at him briefly over my shoulder, pausing a moment from setting the table; I wanted him to know I was listening, urging him to continue. “Well, what did you say the man that you saw looked like again?”

I was a little unsure of how to describe it. “Well, he was fairly tall, well-built, and had intimidating eyes.”

“Can you remember anything else?” He asked in a somewhat pleading tone.

Why did he care? “Well…”

“What color were his eyes?” he asked.

“Dark.” I replied. He looked at me expectantly. I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. “Um, they might have been green, although in that light it was hard to tell.”

“His hair?”

“Black.” I said a little more confidently.

“Skin tone?”

“John, it was really hard to see, and I only saw him for a moment…”

“Just try to remember” he said before I had time to finish my last statement.

“He was none too pale.”

“Did he have any sort of mark on his face, a scar perhaps?”

“No…” I began to say, but stopped as I faintly began to remember a scar running down his left cheek. I thought it had just been from a shadow, although I couldn’t have been sure. “Maybe.” I corrected myself.

“Was it on the left side of his face?” he asked.

‘How did he know?’ “Possibly.” I said.

“What about his hands? Did they look like they’ve been burned?”

“I didn’t have a chance to see his hands.” I replied half-heartedly. ‘Did he know who this person was? How would he?’ He began to ask more questions, but I had no more answers. I turned around fully to face him and said, “John, lunch is about ready and everyone will be gathering soon to eat.”

He walked away.

                                                                                                            September 17

Our mysterious visitors haven’t been back. We talked to Mr. Hull, and he talked to the sheriff, and they’re on the lookout. We’ve been sure to lock up the house and the church, and so far nothing has happened. We asked Mr. Hull if he knew why anyone would want to do anything like this, but he replied, “Jesus says in John 15:25, ‘They hated me without reason.” And in Matthew 10:22, ‘You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.’”

‘Does he know someone who hates him because that person hates God? Does he know who the visitors are? Or was he just guessing that that’s why these things are happening?’ Those were the questions I kept asking myself. Mr. Hull has been quite calm this whole time, but maybe that was just because he’s hiding his true feelings inside, not wanting to worry any of us. Or, maybe he has the perfect peace that God promises to those who trust him. I don’t know, I’ve tried praying, but I still can’t shake the nervousness that I feel. Maybe that’s my problem… maybe I need to stop trusting in my own strength, and let HIM get rid of my fear and replace it with trust in him.

September 18

John’s been acting pretty strangely these past few days, and I’m beginning to think that he did know who it was that’s been doing all these horrible things. Maybe he didn’t really steal the money from Carl after all; maybe it was this person, and now he wants it back! I’m not sure though. He has been acting guilty, and pretty sad and secretive too. But, I know he wants these things to stop as much as the rest of us, and if it were as simple as giving back the money, I think he’d do it in a heart beat. Something just doesn’t make sense, and I am taking it upon myself to figure it out… no matter how long it takes.

                                                                                                            September 19

I am no longer just Celia Joy Andrews, I am now Detective Celia Joy Andrews, and Ada is my partner. That’s what she told me anyway. We were outside hanging out some laundry when I began murmuring to myself. I didn’t think I was doing it loud enough for Ada to be able to hear, but I guess she could because she asked me, “Figure what out, Celia?”

I wasn’t sure how to reply to that because I wasn’t sure what she already knew, although I figured it wasn’t much. I didn’t want to worry her, so I certainly wasn’t going to tell her the truth; or, the whole truth that is. “Well, I’ve decided to play a little game…”

I couldn’t even finish before her eyes got wide, and she excitedly asked, “What kind of game, can I play?”

“Well, it’s sort of like a guessing game, I’m a detective…”

“And I can be your partner.” She clapped her hands with joy as she thought about the game. Inside I was doing anything but clapping my hands. Why do things always have to be so difficult? Why can’t we all just go back to being children- so naïve, and trusting? Everything is fun and games, and when something does go wrong, we can count on our family to fix it and make everything all better again. You could always have someone to lean on, someone you trusted with all your heart; someone who seemed to know all the answers, even when you didn’t even know the question. As I began to think on it, though, I realized, we do have someone whom we can depend on, someone who has a great and wonderful future planned out for each of us. We do have someone we can trust with all our heart who will never leave us; someone who has all the answers, someone who has complete control over every circumstance in our lives. Our Heavenly Father is that person we can trust. He loves us with an agape love that will never fail. And even though he doesn’t promise us a life without worry, pain or hard times, he promises us that he will be with us through it all. When we look close, we can see his hand, holding ours, through every situation. We can hear his voice saying, ‘Don’t worry, I’m in control. All you have to do is trust.’ We can feel his Spirit begin to move in wonderful and mysterious ways. And I realized that as I was remembering and thinking on these things, I began to feel that pined for peace. I felt a calm rush over me that soothed me and made me forget my burdensome fears. I could feel His presence, and somehow I knew that everything was going to be alright.

                                                                                                            September 21

Today we all took a trip out to the pond, and we had a family picnic. The Hulls said it had been a while since they last had a family outing, and since today was one of the few warm days we had left, it would be a good time to do it before the snow began to fly.

The picnic spot that Mr. Hull chose wasn’t more than a quarter of a mile from the house. It included a large, open field with plenty of room to run and play, and a soft, fresh green carpet to cushion the accidental falls. On one side was a big pond, probably twice the size of the house. When standing still, I could hear the breeze rustle the leaves in the trees, the crickets chirping and the bullfrogs croaking. I could feel the wind brush a cool curtain across my face, scattering my long, wavy hair as far as it would reach around my head. I was no longer aware of my surroundings, as I gathered their feeling as a whole. Time seemed to stand still as I soaked in the wonder of God’s creation- his splendor and majesty. Worry and doubt evaporated from my mind as peace and awe crept in and slowly took back their rightful places.

I was currently lost in a world of my own when Mrs. Hull came near to where I was standing not far from the edge of the pond; she interrupted my thought by expressing aloud some of her own, “Look at the leaves on the trees! Already they’re changing their colors!”

“Yes, but aren’t they beautiful!” I replied almost absent mindedly.

For a moment neither of us said anything as we both paused to take in God’s wonders. However, before long I was brought back from my mental rendezvous with awe and admiration by Mrs. Hull’s reminder that the others would be coming soon expecting lunch.

I helped her set out the blanket, and get the food prepared. Sure enough, Mrs. Hull was right- before long the others came looking for the picnic lunch, and we all sat around the blanket enjoying a meal of sandwiches, and home-grown fruits and veggies. After lunch we began some activities.

We took some fishing polls and caught some fish for supper; we got some kites and showed the younger kids how to fly them; and we played some games. However, out of the several games we played, kickball turned out to be a favorite. The teams were John, Luke, and Ada against Matthew, Mr. Hull and me. It was so much fun, and at the end we were all so tired that we lied down in the grass and watched the clouds move across the sky. Then Ada taught us how to find pictures in them, and that started a whole other game.

Once we were all rested, we played hide and go seek. That was also a lot of fun for all of us to play. Ada and I usually hid together, finding places from behind boulders and trees to under bushes or lying down in the tall grass. Some of the others hid in the trees, but thankfully Ada and I found other places to hide instead. (I was still a bit wary of hiding up there).

One time we were hiding, however, Ada found something shiny behind one of the trees, and she pointed it out to me. I bent down to see what it was, and to my surprise found a pocket knife inscribed with the initials DP. I was very perplexed by our find, but the counter had finished counting, so I put it in a little crevice in the tree, and whispered to Ada that we’d leave it there for the owner to find. After the counter, John, found us, I decided to slip it in my pocket to look at later. ‘Whose initials were those? Whose knife could it possibly be? We were on the Hull’s property, so it wasn’t like anyone should be sneaking around there.’ Then I thought of a wonderful possibility- could this find help lead us to our culprit? I could only hope so!

                                                                                                September 23

“D.P. D.P.” I kept saying to myself; as if repeating the initials would somehow reveal its meaning. After thinking on it last night, I’m more than sure that the knife’s owner was one of the people we were looking for. I considered the possibility that the knife wasn’t connected at all to the mystery, but deserted that idea before long. I told myself it was because it was more than likely that knife was somehow related to our mystery, although my hopes of it being linked might’ve had more to do with it.

I debated telling Mr. Hull or Luke about my find, but decided to keep it to myself awhile longer. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to find another clue if I look long and hard enough…

                                                                                                September 25

I decided to ask who this person is that John knows with a scar and burnt hands, green eyes, black hair and scary eyes. I was hoping that he’d simply tell me the name, and it’d match up with the initials on the knife. Then all we’d have to do is find the person. When I went to ask John, however, I found that my expectations were a lot farther from reality than I would’ve ever imagined.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked defensively.

“Because I’m curious and I want to figure out who this person is.” I retorted.

“We all do, but knowing who I think it is is not necessarily going to lead us to the straight to the right person.”

“Well, I know that, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts.”

“Why?” His eyes challenged me. I glared back. Once he knew I wasn’t about to say anything more, he went on, “I want to find more proof before I say who it is. I refuse to let mere speculation distort real truths.”

Was this John who was talking? If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought it was his love of being obstinate that was leading him to say that, and not true convictions. He turned back around and continued his work, clearly showing me our conversation was done. I, however, was not about to give up that easily.

“What if I showed you a clue that I found?” He quickly turned around, and I instantly regretted what I had said, even though I knew it was already too late.

“What proof could you have?” He sneered, although it was only a front. He truly was curious, but I wasn’t about to show him the secret clue without something in return. I had slipped, and it was too late. I divulged the information, and I would strive to get the most from him that I possibly could.

“Well, I’ll show you as soon as you tell me your supposition.”

“Why should I have to go first? How do I know you’re not…”

I stopped him. I knew what he was thinking, but I wasn’t going to let him say it. If he thought I was lying, fine, I’ll prove to him I’m not. But, I’m not going to encourage him in that idea by allowing him to finish. “If I go first, you could change your speculation to fit my clue, or change your mind and not tell me at all. I however can’t change my clue to fit what you say.”

He paused to consider this and finally said, “Daniel.”

So far, so good! Maybe we had solved the mystery! “What about his other name?”

He looked stunned and said, “Other name?”

I looked suspiciously at him. Why was he acting so weird? “His last name…”

“Oh.” He said relieved, but didn’t show any sign of telling more.

“So, what is it?”

“What is what?” he wasted no time in questioning.

“His last name? What is it?”

“He looked down at his hands that he was nervously wringing in front of himself. “Um… Dalley.”

The way he said it made me believe he was making this up. “Dalley?” I questioned like I hardly believed him. (Just in case he wasn’t telling me the truth, I didn’t want it to seem like I was that easily fooled.)

“Yes, Daniel Dalley.” He repeated with a little more confidence. I tried not to let my disappointment show. “Now where’s your proof?” He questioned expectantly.

I pulled it from my pocket. As soon as he saw it, he looked horrified. He grabbed it from me and asked it I had shown anyone. ‘What was going on here? What was this all about?’ I just stared at him. He repeated his question a little more loudly. I shook my head ‘no’.

“Good.” He calmed slightly. “Don’t tell anyone. Do you hear? No one.” He stared at me, and I stared right back. I suppose he took that as a yes, because he looked around to be sure no one was there and left. I looked down at my empty hands, he’d forgotten to give it back.

September 26

            Today I found Ada in her room crying. “What’s wrong?” I went over and asked, but she didn’t say anything. I put my arm around her, and after a minute asked again. “What is it, Ada? Why are you crying?”

           She looked up at me, and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but something is… mommy and daddy don’t say anything,” she sniffled, “but I know something’s been wrong.”

          I hugged her again, thinking of what to say. “Ada, someone hasn’t been being very nice, but…”

         ”But what?”

         ”Well, we’re trusting God. We can pray for that person, and leave the rest to Jesus.”

         She thought for a moment and said, “Yes, Jesus will take care of us.”

         I left that room contemplating what she had said.  I mean, we were being careful, not to worry her and Matthew, but I guess we don’t realize how much the little ones really watch us. We were so busy trying to figure out the problem, thinking that if we didn’t tell them anything was wrong, they wouldn’t know; but they are a lot more observant than that… especially Ada. We’ll just have to be especially careful, and make sure we talk to her. We don’t have to tell her all that’s going on, but I guess simply acting like nothing’s wrong is not enough.

                                                                                                                        September 28

            “Luke, why do you think that all this is happening?”

            He turned around, surprised at my question. “What do you mean?”

            “The people who are doing things. Why do you think they’re doing all this?”

            “Well, I don’t know, Celia, it could be for a number of reasons.”

            “Such as…”

            “I don’t know, maybe someone has something against the Hulls, or maybe someone didn’t want them to start the church…”

            “What about John?”

            “What?”

            “What about John?”

            “What do you mean, What about John?”

            “Well, don’t you think it’s the least bit strange that these things have started happening after we came?”

            “You don’t know that for sure.”

            “Yes, I do, Luke.”

            “How? Have you asked them?”

            “Well, no, but…”

            “But what?”

            I didn’t know what to say about that, but I did know that starting an argument wasn’t going to get any answers from my brother. ”Fine. I don’t know for sure. But if we’re going to figure this out, we have to keep an open mind, right?”

            “Sure…”  

            “Okay, then, will you please listen to what I have to say?”

            “What do you have to say?” he said in an exhausted tone. I knew he didn’t really care what I was going to say, and once he had his own speculations, he’s not easily shifted. I almost felt like he was treating me like a little kid, but I went on anyway.

            “Well, What if all this had to do with John?”

            “How would it have to do with John?” he asked monotonically.

            “What if he stole the ten dollars from these people, and now they want it back?”

            “What?!” he asked me as if he had heard wrong.

            I repeated my question, “What if he stole the ten dollars from these people, and now they want it back?”

            “Celia, John did not steal the money.”

            Now it was my turn to be surprised. “What?”

            “John did not steal the money. I thought you knew that.”

            “No. I saw the money, and assumed he stole it.”

            “Didn’t you hear us in the barn that one day, when John was telling me about it?”

            “No…” Maybe I would finally figure out what they were talking about. “If he didn’t steal the money, where’d it come from?”

            “Well, a few months ago John’s family couldn’t afford to feed and house him anymore, so he left. But, when he left, they gave him ten dollars.”

            I paused a moment, taking it in. He had told me that his family couldn’t afford him anymore, but I wouldn’t have thought that… “I guess I just assumed he stole the money.”

            “Who would he have stolen the money from?”

            “Well, Carl, or someone, I guess.”

            “Celia, John wouldn’t have stolen the money.”

            I paused, thinking about what he had said. I was so relieved. I guess I had just taken it for granted that he stole the money, but I am so glad to learn he hadn’t. But then I had another feeling come over me once the relief passed…guilt. I had misjudged John and didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself. But, I guess I’d rather be wrong and him not guilty, than the other way around. I love being right, but in this instance I so glad I was wrong! Well, at least that possibility could be eliminated.

October 1

            It’s October first, and the leaves are changing fast. We haven’t seen our uninvited visitors anymore, and I’m thinking they’re simply going to leave us alone for now. I guess it was just someone who didn’t like Mr. Hull and his church that he started a few years ago. Maybe they’ve finally realized that they’d gone too far. I’m not sure that we’re going to ever going to find out for sure. I’m still working on the case, but I haven’t gotten any new leads. What would I do if I find the person anyway? I’m just a young girl, there’s nothing I could do. No one else seems interested anymore. They’re all just relieved that nothing more has happened. But is this calm just the eye of the storm? Foreshadowing that more was to come, even worse than before? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I am happy that nothing else has been happening, but I do wish that we could get to the bottom of this mess. It seems as though we’re to the end of this mystery; an unsolved mystery.    

            However, I have this strange feeling that something more is coming, and we’re going to have to trust God more than any of us have ever done before.

                                                                                                                        October 2

            We all woke up in the middle of the night last night. Ada screamed, and her shrill shriek is still echoing through my mind. “Call the Sheriff!” Mrs. Hull kept repeating as John ran to do her bidding. Luke and Mr. Hull ran after the shadow deftly moving through the night, clothed with darkness. Everything was hectic, chaos quickly surrounding us, filling the house with its unwanted presence; although, the night didn’t start out that way.

We had all gone to bed fairly early. Even though we hadn’t had an unwanted visit in awhile, we were sure to lock all the doors securely. There would be no way for the person or people to enter tonight.

We hadn’t been to bed for long before everyone was awake again. Ada had woken up in the middle of the night, and started screaming. Being right in the room, I jumped out of bed and asked her what was wrong. She was so scared she couldn’t speak, and all she did was point out the window. I followed the direction of her finger until my eyes came across a figure quickly running away from the house. My heart was pounding, but I tried my best to keep my lips from replicating the scream from Ada. She was almost inconsolable. When I asked her how she saw the person there, she said she heard footsteps out her window, and looked up to find a shadow moving across the windowsill. As she screamed the person looked right at her- and then ran.

Mr. and Mrs. Hull came in, with Luke and John right behind them. A myriad of voices flocked in all with the same question, “What’s wrong?”

Ada replied that she saw someone out her window, and it scared her. “Are you sure you saw someone, honey, you weren’t just dreaming?” Mrs. Hull inquired.

“No, it was real.” She replied.

I also added what I saw; and that’s when everything started getting chaotic. Luke and Mr. Hull went out to search for the person, although I’m sure their efforts were in vain, and John went to get Sheriff Jones. I asked Ada what the person looked like, but she couldn’t really give me much information other than that he was scary. By the looks of the figure I could faintly see running, however, it didn’t look like the person that knocked me out the other night.

This mystery is getting more and more complicated each time something happens. ‘Why was this person sneaking around the house? What was he going to do?’

                                                                                                            October 3

Mr. Hull, Luke, John and Sheriff Jones are in the living room talking about the intruders, as they have been for the past hour or so. Mrs. Hull and I were talking too, until Emma started crying. But before that, while we were sharing our thoughts over a cup of tea, I had a chance to ask her some questions that I had wanted to ask for a long time. I wasn’t quite sure how to begin, and for a moment we both sat there, deep in thought.

Finally I asked, “Why do you think someone would do things like this?”

“I just don’t know.” She replied slowly, shaking her head.

I was hoping that she’d have an idea as to who this person is, but I guess not. We both sat in silence again. Then I decided to try something else. “How did Willie become the pastor of the church here?”

“Well, I think I told you this part, but Willie and I were going around sharing Jesus at the hobo jungles, but then the Sheriff said that the town needed a pastor, and he thought Willie was just the man to do the job. It didn’t take too much consideration for us to agree that he would be the pastor.” I was hoping that she’d remember someone who was opposed to the church or for some reason or other didn’t like them, or the idea of them starting the church; but I suppose not. I decided to go a little further into the conversation… just to be sure.

“So, the people here wanted to start a church?”

“Well, there was already a church started quite awhile ago, but I guess when the Depression hit, the other pastor and his family were forced to move in with relatives in another part of the country. That was about a year before we came.

“Did they not have another pastor? Or did they just stop meeting together?”

“Mr. Salisberry stepped in at first, but only offered to do it until the town could find someone else. However, he only did it for a month or two before he stepped down again.

“Why didn’t he continue?”

“I’m not sure; maybe he didn’t think he could anymore… he didn’t really tell anyone.”

‘Could this have anything to do with what’s happening now?’ I wondered. Maybe the same person who’s doing these things to the Hulls now, did it to the other pastor and that’s why he decided to leave.

“So, when Willie became pastor, everyone was glad that another person was taking the position?” I was starting to sound like a reporter.

“Well, I guess for the most part, yes.”

‘Most part?’ Was that an implication that someone or more than one someone didn’t want to start a church? Maybe this would help find our culprit. “Most part?” I asked with mock surprise.

That’s when Emma started crying, and Mrs. Hull left to put her back to bed. If she comes back down before the others finish talking then I’ll ask her some more, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen- I’ll just have to practice patience and ask her another day, however challenging that may be.

                                                                                                            October 10

It rained today, and had it been a bit cooler, there would’ve been snow out there instead. Right now I think everyone’s in bed. For some reason I couldn’t seem to go to sleep, so I am going to try to catch up in my diary. It’s been awhile since I last wrote, so I will try to recount all that has happened in the last week.

The sheriff has been working dutifully to find the person whose been doing these things. He’s asked around, but no one else in town seems to be having problems like this, and no one has any idea to who it is, either. It’s all truly puzzling, and although I’ve come up with several possibilities, none of my speculations seem to get us anywhere.

I talked more with Mrs. Hull, but our conversation last week seemed to be a false lead. I asked her why she had said ‘for the most part’, and if there was someone who was opposed to having a pastor for the church. After a moment’s thought she said, “No, no one in particular…” and changed the subject.

I asked Luke if he knew who Daniel Dalley was, but he said that he never heard of him. Then he asked me how I knew him. “I don’t.” I replied truthfully, “so I thought you would.” He gave me an inquisitive look, but I left before he could ask more.

The sheriff’s come by a few times this past week just to… I just heard something- a big ‘crack’ outside. I don’t think it was just from the rain and wind… unless a big branch fell or something. I’m going to go see if Luke heard it too…

                                                                                                            October 11

Luke and I stood out there in the rain, searching for the source of the sound. He was sleeping, but I woke him up anyway; I didn’t want to go out alone after what’s been happening. So we stood out there looking for what happened for a good amount of time. We were beginning to get soaked, and were about to give up when I thought I saw something over toward the back of the house. We walked back there, and to our horror and surprise, we found it. A branch had fallen, but underneath was a person, perhaps our culprit. “Quick, go get Mr. Hull!” Luke called above the sounds of the rain and wind, walking slowly toward the person. I ran to do what he said. It was getting cold, but now I could hardly feel the needles penetrating through my clothes, soaking through to my skin. My heart was beating fast. I had only one thing on my mind… get Mr. Hull.

I went inside and got Mrs. And Mr. Hull. Mrs. Hull called the doctor while I showed Mr. Hull where the person was. Between both Luke and Mr. Hull, they were able to move the branch off from the person. I guess the person had been hit on the head, and had been knocked out. Luke and Mr. Hull brought him inside out of the rain and wind, being careful to move him the least possible.

I got a pretty good look at him and decided that he wasn’t the person who I met at the barn the one day, but probably the person who scared Ada. He was tall and scraggly. He also had dirty blonde hair, calloused hands, and looked to be about the same height as Luke. I would say he was about twenty or maybe even thirty years old, although his disheveled appearance may have assisted in making him look older.

The commotion woke John up, though thankfully it didn’t wake the children. As soon as John saw the person, he looked stunned. I would almost go as far as to say there was a look of recognition when he first saw the man, although if it truly was there, John was now doing a good job of hiding it. He was about to say something but thought again before asking, “What is he doing here?” John’s eyes were wide and full of concern as well as confusion and surprise.

Luke answered, “We found him outside… he was under a branch that had fallen.”

John nodded his head as if to say, “Oh” but the look in his eyes said so much more, and I was the only one who heard.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            October 12

Luke and Mr. Hull took turns for the rest of the night, staying awake to watch for when he woke up. When I came downstairs this morning, I noticed that he was awake, staring at Mr. Hull, and Mr. Hull staring straight back. Neither one of them noticed me, and for a moment I was tempted to go back upstairs, but as usual, my curiosity persuaded me to continue down the steps. “Good morning.” I said in a cheerful voice, but neither one of them seemed to hear. I made my way to the kitchen, but no one was up yet. I would’ve began breakfast, but I wasn’t sure how much longer it would be until everyone was awake, so I decided to wait on that. Going back to the living room I found Mr. Hull attempting to talk to the person in a frustrated tone. ‘Must not be the first time he’s attempted talking with him.’ I concluded.

“Why were you here in the storm last night?” silence. The person had a stubborn look on his face, and he refused to talk.

“Who are you?” Mr. Hull tried again. Nothing. Mr. Hull sighed. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t tell us anything.” The person was still as a statue, saying nothing. He didn’t even give the impression that he was ever going to talk. “I can easily call my buddy, Sheriff Jones, and let him talk to you, but I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He looked like he was about to say something, but after a moment’s hesitation, refrained. Mr. Hull sighed, “It’s your choice.”

I went back upstairs while I waited for the others. Who was this person, and what did he want? Obviously he’s connected to our mystery, but will he reveal any clues? He seemed set not to tell a thing, but would his resolve last?

                                                                                                            October 13

            Well, yesterday Sheriff Jones came and took “our mystery person” in for questioning. I don’t know if he’ll find who he is, but he won’t say anything. I’m wondering if now that he’s gone, the other person will just stop coming. If that happened, the only way we’d find out who they are is if the person told us. But, they always seem to surprise us…

            Today I noticed another letter on the table. I could only see part of the return address, but again it was home. My throat tightened, and my heart began to pick up speed. My hand was nervously reaching out to grab it, and I promised myself that this time I would not let me feelings take over, and I would read whatever the letter had to say first before I got rid of the evidence. Just as I was about to get it, I heard someone call my name, and I jumped back.

            “Celia?” Mrs. Hull called again from the other room.

            “Yes?” She came around the corner into the kitchen, close to where I was standing. “Do you…” she looked at me, “Are you alright?”

            “Sure,” I said somewhat hastily, “did you need something?” I was hoping she’d ask me to start lunch or something, then leave the room, and give me enough time to see what was in the letter.

            “I was wondering if you’d go get Ada from the barn, and maybe collect the eggs on your way back.” She asked, not giving my word a second thought.

            “Um, okay.” I felt somewhat reluctant to leave the letter, but I tried not to let it show. Hopefully it would still be there when I got back, and no one else would.

            So I went and got Ada, and together we collected the eggs form their stubborn chickens. Sure, they’d let us have the eggs, if we were clever enough to avoid the traps it seemed they skillfully set in order to retrieve them. The chickens also seem to make this ‘game’ more interesting by also making us search for their eggs. They almost seem set not to lay them in the same places, but scattered, hidden, in new places everyday. How they find some of the spots, I don’t think I’ll ever know.

            We went inside and put the eggs in the fridge once we were pretty certain we had gotten them all. I was hoping the letter would still be there, and no one else had noticed, but unfortunately the pile of letters was gone. I could only guess that Mrs. Hull had taken them to read. All day I was preparing myself for questioning, but surprisingly it never came. “Odd.” I thought to myself. I was almost hoping she’d bring the subject up, however, because otherwise, I’d be left to wonder what she was thinking, or if she even thought anything out of the ordinary at all. Would she not open it, and simply give it to me, no questions asked? Or would she keep it to herself, and pretend like nothing ever happened? I wasn’t sure what she’d do, and I wasn’t sure which I even wanted her to do either.

                                                                                                                        October 15

            Last night the person came again. No one was really expecting another visit, since we found the one person. We still don’t know who he is, but the sheriff is pretty confident that we will soon. I really think John knows who the person is, and if we could just get him to say, we’ll find more than pressing this person to answer questions. John doesn’t want to tell the truth lately it seems, though, so we wouldn’t know for sure if that’s true. For the most part, John seems like a pretty honest and straightforward person, but maybe he’s just trying to protect someone, or himself.

            Anyway, like I said before, the person did come again last night, though he didn’t do as much damage as usual. Actually, we can’t find anything he’s done. The only reason we know he’s been here is we saw his footprints in the now frozen mud. We tried to see where they lead, but they don’t seem to go anywhere in particular. Maybe he did this on purpose as a sign, a warning. I don’t know, but Luke, Mr.  Hull and Sheriff Jones are now determined to find out who this person is. John doesn’t seem as ambitious as the others, or even as much as he was at first. Is it starting to bore him? I highly doubt that! Or maybe it’s beginning to worry him. I don’t know, but I hope that this whole thing is finished soon. I’m beginning to grow impatient.

                                                                                                                        October 16

            Mr. Hull decided to go to the hobo jungles today to bring some things from the harvest as sort of an early Thanksgiving with the extras they had. No one else went with him, so I decided to tag along. They were so grateful for the extra blessing, and it was really nice that I was able to go and be a part of giving the food out. I loved seeing their faces, and it felt really nice to give where there’s a definite need.

            Some of the people there I had never seen before, but some were still living there from when we were there. I’m really glad I got to go; I think I was beginning to take our place with the Hull’s for granted, but coming to jungle today made me remember where I was only a few months ago. It made me really appreciate all the Hulls have done and are doing for us. On our walk back I told Mr. Hull that- that I was really thankful for all he’s done in letting us work for him, and allowing us to stay and be a part of his family. God has really had his hand on our journey this whole time, and I am so thankful for how things have really just worked out. God is so faithful!

                                                                                                            October 19

            “I think we should just give up on this whole thing.” I stopped dead in my tracks as I heard John’s voice coming from the barn. ‘What was he saying?’

            “What?! Are you crazy? Why would we give up on it now? We’re that much closer to being done with this whole thing… finding out who it is, and putting an end to the trouble here.” Luke replied. I edged closer to the barn so I could hear their conversation without being seen.

            “Exactly. Why do we need to find who these people are? We can’t prove any of the things that are happening are from them, and they haven’t done any harm to us lately.”

            ‘I beg to differ with that’ I wanted to say, but held my tongue. Luke didn’t reply, and John didn’t go on; there was nothing but silence in the barn. I peeked my head around the corner to find Luke eyeing John suspiciously. I couldn’t see John’s reaction, so I pulled myself back out of sight, and waited expectantly. It was only a minute before I heard footsteps slowly coming closer, so I cautiously edged my way from there, and back toward the house.

            As I was in the kitchen, busying myself with chores I began thinking, ‘Now why would John say something like that; why would he want to give up so easily? I haven’t known him too long, but he just doesn’t strike me as a person who would want to quit. He was all for finding the thief just a month ago, what’s happened? I was beginning to see a side of John that I never would’ve imagined existed.

                                                                                                            October 20

            The sheriff had to let the suspect go today. The suspect had been held for a week in hopes to get information from him, but the attempt failed. Sheriff Jones had questioned him the best he could, but the man seemed to hold to his resolve of silence. If he had been allowed to stay in the jail longer, perhaps we could’ve gotten some answers, however, this was the longest he could stay based on mere suspicions.

            John seemed to be relieved that the prisoner was finally freed, although, that impression could’ve simply been the result of my imagination. I’ve been watching him, and I’m not sure what part John plays in this, but I’ve no longer any doubts he’s connected, if even remotely.  

            So, instead of sitting around, fruitlessly tossing thoughts back and forth through my head, I’ve decided come out and plainly ask John. I have a feeling he’ll not give up his information too readily, so I’d formulated a plan, hoping it would work…

            This afternoon, after the kids were resting for the day and Ellie didn’t need me anymore, I told her I was going to take a walk… what I didn’t tell her was… well, pretty much everything else. My assumption was that John was in the barn, but when I only found Luke, I checked around the side of the house; still no sight of John. I knew for a fact John was not inside the house, therefore he must be somewhere outside; but where? After five more minutes of searching I finally gave up figuring what I wanted to do could wait until later. However, instead of going back into the house, I began walking down the road. I didn’t give much thought to where I was going, I hardly knew I was going.

            I ended up at the picnic spot the Hulls had taken us to that day. Instead of choosing to walk through the field, I walked around to the tree where Ada and I hid that day, and where we found the knife.

            I hardly got that far, however when I saw two people; one of them being John, the other, the person the sheriff let go. I ran behind the line of trees beginning the forest, out of the sight of the men. I watched as they talked to each other, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. My curiosity couldn’t contain itself any longer, and I began inching closer in order to hear their passing conversation.

            “Just don’t come back here!” I heard John say. The other person seemed to ignore him, distracting himself with the stick protruding from the tree. “Do you hear me, Daniel? Just stay away from here, and don’t come back!”

            “And why should I?” He asked suddenly, stubbornness evident in his blazing dark eyes.

            “Because I said so.” John said back, unable to think of anything else.

            “Oh, and I’m supposed to listen to you. May I remind you that I’m the oldest of our family, John Pently, not you. You are not, never have been and never will be the boss of me. You have absolutely no authority to tell me what or what not to do. As you can well see, I am perfectly capable to take care of myself.” The person, evidently named Daniel, shot back. Anger now burned in his eyes along with the primary stubbornness.  

            ‘So this person must be John’s brother, explaining why John was sticking up for him. I didn’t know that John even had a brother. This also must be who the knife belonged to… Daniel Pently.’ Looking at him now, I could see the resemblance. Both John and this Daniel had dark eyes, sandy hair, and a long nose sticking out from their slim faces. Both were tall and thin, although Daniel may have been slightly taller. John was a bit neater looking; his brother dirty with ripped clothing: a telltale sign of having no place to live. As John began speaking again, I returned my attention back to the brothers.

            “Look, you’ve done enough damage, and are in more than enough trouble. You’ve been caught, and just barely escaped. I’m warning you to leave before you regret your actions.”

            “No! I’m not leaving. Not until…”

            “Until what?”

            Daniel paused, rethinking what he was about to say, “Not until I’m ready.” With that he stormed off in the woods. John began to walk toward him, but paused, then slowly walked back toward the road with slumped shoulders, and a look of defeat clearly displayed on his face.

            I waited in the shadow of the trees until I knew that it was safe enough to proceed to the house without John being able to tell I was there. Now I know who this person is, does John know who the other person is also? I decided to add this to the list of things I’d like to learn from him when we talked. I hoped to find time to ask John some questions tonight, but it didn’t seem to work out that way… perhaps tomorrow.

                                                                                                                        October 20

            “John, you know who the people are.” I stated with certainty. I watched his face closely to see his reaction.

            “What do you mean?” He quickly said. I stared at him; I knew that he knew what I meant. “Why do you think I know who they are any more than you do?”

            “Because I” I paused, I didn’t want to give myself away. “Because I can tell.”

            “How?” he challenged me.

            “Because you’re always so defensive when I bring it up.”

            “That doesn’t prove anything.”

            “You’re suddenly not interested in figuring out who these people are, and you have no desire to stop them any more. You try to deter us from figuring it out, and discourage us in our attempts. The look of recognition you had when that person was at the house was also written plainly on your face.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lied. “That doesn’t prove anything.

            “How did you know the person had a scar, and burnt hands? You seemed to know who HE was at least.”

            “That was a lucky guess.”

            This was getting exhausting. He seemed set not to reveal anything, or even admit to what I already knew. I could tell practically yelling back an forth with each other was not going to get us anywhere, and I was ready to give up. He certainly wasn’t going to tell me anything, not this way anyway. I stopped, sighed, and looked down at my feet that were drawing circles in the dirt. “John,” I said slowly and quietly, “I saw you in the woods today, with your brother.”

            He looked at me, stunned. He shook his head and again took the defensive. “You couldn’t have. I don’t have a brother. Besides I wasn’t in the woods today.”

            “Fine.” I said. “Maybe you weren’t exactly in the woods, just on the edge. You were by the tree where Ada and I hid that day. I heard you talking with Daniel. You…”

            “Celia.” He said harshly, but quietly. At first I thought he just wanted me to stop accusing him, but I looked up and saw Luke enter the barn where we were.  I paused, debating whether or not to go on even though Luke was there. I was about to, but decided that maybe John would confess if I proved to him I could be trustworthy; tell him if he told me I wouldn’t tell anyone else, and then prove to him I would keep my word. I looked to Luke. Although I knew he hadn’t heard anything other than whispers, he looked at us suspiciously. I walked out of the barn before he could ask questions, and before I lost my resolve.

                                                                                                            October 21

I decided to accompany Luke in walking to church today. We left immediately after breakfast to make our way to the church building in town. He didn’t say much as we were walking at first, and I knew he was in deep thought. I had the feeling he wanted to talk to me about something, but I wasn’t sure what it was he was going to say; although, I did have a feeling that it was about my discussion with John in the barn the other day. He seemed almost mad and frustrated, but why? I was about to ask him, when he slowly began to say something. “Celia, Mrs. Hull got a letter the other day…” he paused, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was about to say.

“Yes…” I urged.

“She got a letter from our mother,” I had hardly heard the last of his statement.

“Luke!” I whispered as I jumped and grabbed his arm harder than I intentioned to.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, it’s just that I saw something.”

“What did you see?” He asked somewhat exasperatedly. He wanted to finish what he was saying, but at the time I didn’t realize it, and had almost completely forgot about it.

“Someone is following us. It looked like the person who knocked me out!” I said and pointed in the direction of the bushes along the road. “That’s where I saw him.”

He walked cautiously over to the bushes, and looked around, but in a few moments reported that he found nothing. “Maybe you just thought you saw someone.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I guess there was nothing to be done about it now; although, I was sure I saw someone there.

“We’d better get going or we’ll be late for church.” I followed my brother as he continued along the path, but all the while continued to watch out for the person. I didn’t see anything more out of the normal, and so I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s possible that I was just imagining things…

Categories: Historical Fiction.

Hello!

February 1, 2011

Hello! This is Morning Glory… posting my first post on WE. I like to read… well, pretty much anything. I write mostly fiction novels. I’ve started quite a few, but haven’t actually finished any (yet). But maybe being on here will push me a little to finish them… :)

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Crocodiles Don’t Have Hair

February 1, 2011

A Children’s Short Story

The zoo smelled hairy. Lacey smelled camel hair and lion hair and zebra hair and giraffe hair and bear hair and monkey hair, and she was sick of it.

“I’m going to cut off all my hair,” she told her mother.

Shh,” her mother said. Shh is adult for, “How would you look without hair?”
“I’ll be bald like Uncle Mark. My head will be shiny. We’ll throw away all my brushes and buy a hundred hats.”
“Shhh.” Shhh is adult for, “I’ll buy a pair of scissors from Acme on the way home, darling.”
Lacey stuck her hands in her pockets and hunched over like a gangsta.

Her mother walked ahead, cooing over a ring-tailed lemur that also smelled like hair. It leaped from plastic branch to plastic branch, shaking its fur all over.

Lacey wrinkled her nose until she remembered she was a gangsta and scowled instead.

A zoo map with green roads and blue squares was beside the path.
“That doesn’t look like the zoo at all,” Lacey said. “These roads are black, look, and there’s rocks all over the place and there are no blue squares.” She kicked the black rocky road.
“Shhhhhh.” That is adult for, “I know, I know, but adults don’t understand things as well as children do.”
On the map was a picture of a crocodile floating in the middle of a blue square.  Crocodiles don’t have hair.
“Let’s go see the crocodiles!” Lacey shouted.
Many other mothers looked at Lacey, scrunching their noses, and one nasty boy stuck out his tongue at her.  She stuck her tongue out back, because the boy’s mother wasn’t paying attention enough to do it herself.
“Behave yourself!” Lacey’s mother said, and put her hand on her hip. That is adult for, “Or else!”
Lacey followed her mother past all sorts of hairy mammals until finally they came to a wood bridge with a sign that said CROCODILES, with a great big lizardy eye painted under it.
The crocodiles were swimming in a pond that ran under the bridge. They were gray and green and white, with gold eyes and toothy mouths that looked like smiles. They had no hair, because crocodiles don’t have hair.
Lacey thought they were too far. She was standing where she could still smell hair when smiling hairless crocodiles were swimming and mysterious beneath her. They were bored, floating like logs. They would be exactly like logs if logs had teeth and occasionally blinked. They wanted company.
She jumped in.
“LACEY!” her mother shouted, which is adult for “You’re going to get all wet!”
The water was warm and floating bits of grass tickled her nose and elbows as she paddled wildly. She hadn’t exactly learned how to swim yet.

The crocodiles moved away and stared at her.

“Hello,” Lacey said, remembering her best manners. But it is difficult to be ladylike when your hair is dripping in your eyes and you have water in your mouth. “Could you take me to shore?”
The biggest crocodile yawned and said, “Well. It isn’t quite a shore, you see, because this is only a pond.” His voice was so low it shook her chest.
“Oh,” Lacey said. “Could you take me to the shore that isn’t quite a shore?”
The Crocodile nodded and she climbed onto his back. He was bumpy and slick with pond water and very warm with sunshine.
“LACEY!” Lacey’s mother cried again. That is adult for, “Your underwear is showing! Pull down your skirt!” Lacey pulled down her skirt until it was quite modest.

The Crocodile stopped at the shore that wasn’t quite a shore, and Lacey tumbled off into the mud. She sat up quickly and wiped the mud off her cheeks. But then the mud was on her hands, and she must never ever wipe her hands on her dress. So she leaned over and wiped them very gently on the Crocodile’s scales.

“Well. Why are you here? Don’t you know we could eat you?” the Crocodile asked, amused.
“You don’t have hair,” Lacey said.
The Crocodile nodded. “I understand. Hair smells very prickly on hot days. Well. You can’t stay here, you know. You do have hair.”
Lacey reached up to her ponytail. “I could go bald.”
“But it would grow back,” the Crocodile said.
“Oh.”
“It’s very nice, despite it being hair,” the Crocodile said politely.
“Thank you.” Lacy scrambled to her feet and curtsied like a princess, because it seemed like the only proper thing to do when a Crocodile compliments you.
“You better go home now,” the Crocodile said.
Lacey stood up and began to walk away, her feet squishing in the mud. But before she walked too far she turned and asked, “Why didn’t you eat me? You might have been hungry.”
“I’m on a diet,” the Crocodile said gravely.
Lacey nodded. She walked all the way to the fence where a zookeeper was just coming, and he opened the gate for her. His face was a little green.
When she was back on the bridge, her mother screamed, “LACEY!” Which is adult for, “You’re sopping wet!”
“I’m sorry,” Lacey said. “We’ll have to find a towel.” Her mother picked her up and they walked down the gray-black roads to their car.
As they were driving away, Lacey reached forward and tapped her mother’s shoulder. “You don’t have to stop for scissors anymore. My hair would just grow back. Besides, it’s pretty nice, even if it is hair.”

Categories: Children's Fiction, Short Stories.