The Other Side of Alice

This year has been a tough one for me, mentally. Things I thought were one way, turned out to be something quite different, and for the worse. For some reason, I experienced more than one occurrence of this, and over time it all has taken a mental toll on me. I have an extremely loving family, full of patience, and through this monthly writing (okay, this one took me a bit more than a month), I have an outlet for all the emotions that I can't seem to express correctly. Thank you for taking the time to read this installment of my short stories...

 I knew it would happen one day, after all, Alice retired when I was 3 years old. As I stand in front of her house, all of our carefree days of imagining and pretending flood my mind...the outdoor evenings of popcorn and movies...the summers full of creating and building together. I don't know who I would be if it weren't for this incredible person. She hadn't been just the lady who lived next door and babysat me. She has been my lifelong best friend. Is it odd that my best friend is a retired banker? Maybe, but I have never cared. She has always been there for me. Our friendship is definitely a two-way street. As much as I had spent my childhood and early adulthood confiding in her, she has confided in me, as well. She makes me feel like her equal, like I am truly important. I hope I make her feel the same way. 

I knock as I open the back door. "Alice, it's me! Where are you?" Having just come from work, I grab a glass of water before starting my search. 

"You're early...perfect!" smiles Alice as she heads over to me to give a quick squeeze. "Have you gotten taller?" she asks.

"No, Alice, I think you've shrunk!" I tease as I take a sip from my glass, smiling the entire time. As my smile fades, I look intently at Alice. I need a sign as to whether or not she is making the right decision. 

"You're doing it again, aren't you?" she asks with a spicy tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I answer.

"You can't fool me. I can read you like a book. You'll see, this is going to be for the best. Nothing will change, other than my address and a lower stress level." 

This is probably the millionth time Alice has explained her decision to downsize. I don't know why it bothers me so much. It's not like I live next door anymore. In fact, we hadn't been neighbors since my second year of teaching. 

"We've weathered so many changes together, in both of our lives, we'll get through this one, too." adds Alice. She pats my shoulder and continues in a much more forceful voice, "Now let's get started!" 

It's true, we have been through many changes together. The death of my mom, the death of her husband and son. Me going away to university, her traveling extensively with her church group. We survived it all, but I think the only way I stayed sane was because of her. 

She's tried to convince me that her moving won't change anything, but from the moment she first told me about these plans, I've had the worst feeling. Her retirement apartment is about the same distance from my place, maybe even closer. I've toured the community and it seems like a good fit for her. After asking several people...several times I have been reassured that I can visit at any time and even spend nights with her still. Everything looks good...on paper. I just can't shake the feeling that this is going to change us in some way. We're giving over half of her life away; packing it up and shipping it off to unknown places. Some of her life will undoubtedly end up in a trash heap at the dump. What a bad cosmic joke, an extraordinary life reduced to sitting in a garbage dump being picked apart by animals and insects. Is that what's bothering me? Am I really that worried about what's going to happen to her material things? That's not me. I hate collecting things. I hate clutter. Experiences are what matter to me. Big, small, and everything in between. Guess who taught me that? Of course, it was Alice! 

Alice rubs my back as she pushes me into motion. 

"Where do you want to begin?" I ask. 

She answers, "Let's begin in the basement. I think most of that stuff is going to the donation center or being thrown away. I'll want to keep photo albums, but everything else can go."

I can tell that Alice is anxious to start this new chapter in her life. That's all I want for Alice ever, is to be happy. If this is what's going to make her happy, I'm going to help any way I can. I've given myself this pep talk repeatedly, if only it helped my feeling of dread.

As soon as I open the door to the basement I smell the familiar musty basement smell. I take it in...I love that smell. My childhood home didn't have a cool basement, despite being located directly next to Alice's house. Many a musical was performed in this basement. Of course, we were avoiding a tornado for most of those performances, but I don't really remember a lot about the dangerous aspect. That was part of the magic of Alice. 

My stomach churns as I survey the below ground floor. "Where did all of your holiday decorations go?" I slowly ask.

"I've been cleaning those out throughout the year. Don't worry, I kept the most special pieces. I don't have much storage in the new place, though." answers Alice.

I head toward the corner where stacks of dust-covered boxes live. Most of them look as old as the house. I fear that they will disintegrate as soon as I touch them. I let out a deep breath as I lift the lid to the top box and swipe at the dust cloud. Papers, from top to bottom. I start to panic as I ask, "Do you know what all of these papers are?" 

Alice shakes her head no. "I haven't opened these boxes since we moved them in decades ago. They all came from my parent's house and my husband's family house. I don't think we need to read every word. Just scan the top of each paper to make sure it's nothing important and then you're free to toss it in the trash bin." 

This is the way I spend my Friday evening, paper by paper, box by box. None of the papers make much sense to me, but after I read the heading aloud, Alice calls out, "TRASH IT!" Many trips up the stairs with the bin to empty it, and there were only a handful of boxes left. Of course, half of the trash bin was filled with tissues from me sneezing the dust away, but I feel very accomplished. 

"Why don't we call it a night?" suggests Alice.

"We only have a few more, but if you're too tired we can stop." Sometimes I forget how much older Alice is. To me, Alice will always be a new retiree, fresh with excitement and renewed energy.

I see a smile spread across Alice's face, "If you can do it, I can do it."

The remaining boxes are all marked with Alice's maiden name. At the top of the first box I open, I see a family tree. "Oh Alice, you're going to want this. How cool that you have a record of your family! Someone sure went to a lot of work."

Alice scans the paper as she stands over my shoulder. "Ah, yes! I thought I had put that into a photo album. I guess I never got to it."

I carefully place it in the plastic bin Alice has waiting for anything she wants to keep. So far, nothing had gone in that bin. As I get closer to the bottom of the old box, I notice different generations of papers proving ownership of various things, including old copies of deeds to houses. Going even further going back in time, land. "Your family owned quite a bit of land in the south." I comment to Alice.

"Yes, my ancestors were very well-to-do back in the day. They sold all of the land a long time ago to developers. In fact, part of that inheritance went into buying this house, since my grandparents and parents passed on so early in life. At the time of purchase, we bought the land your family's house sat on, too. My husband had big plans for that land." Alice smiles, but I know on the inside her heart is melting into tears. She continues, "My aunts and uncles received the same amount. My relatives then scattered all across the country." Alice explains as she wipes away a tear. She thinks I can't see when she mentions her husband and tears up. I don't want her to feel badly about being sad, so I never push her into talking about him more than she wants.

As I reach the last few papers in the box, I notice the most peculiar looking paper I've ever seen in my life. The actual paper itself is so thin it starts to crack at the edges and flake away. I quickly place my other hand underneath the delicate document for extra support. It is dated in the '50s...the 1850s! Just as I begin to call Alice over in a frenzy of excitement, convinced she has an important piece of history, I make out what kind of ownership paper I'm holding. I start to shake as I drop the paper back into the box. 

Alice notices and asks, "You okay?"

Honestly, I don't know what to say. I'm so taken aback, forming words is impossible. 

"What happened? Did you swallow some dust? You look awful. Let me get you some water." Alice gets up and quickly climbs the stairs to the kitchen. I'm grateful for the chance to try and collect myself. 

I knew Alice and her family were from the south, but that's about all we ever talked about. She mostly reminisced about her husband, her days at her all female college, and once in a while memories of her son. I assumed she never spoke much about her childhood due to the fact that her parents passed away when she was in high school. She didn't talked about grandparents or great grandparents. I never realized her family history could include owning slaves.

Alice comes down the stairs slowly and stiffly. "Here you go dear. Are you feeling any better?" I meet her at the bottom of the staircase wondering if my legs will give out. They feel rubbery and unstable. I take a few short sips of water before sitting down on the bottom step. Alice watches me closely. "I think this is a sign that we should be done for tonight. It's well past midnight." Alice reaches her hand down to my shoulder as she continues, "We need to pace ourselves!" She beckons me up the stairs as she again ascends up to the door. 

I slowly pick myself up and methodically climb the stairs, turning out the lights at the top. My brain is swirling with a myriad of conflicting emotions. I can't focus on any one clear thought. I make my way to the guest bedroom where I curl up into a ball. What do I do? Do I ask her about her ancestors owning slaves? Will she be mad at me for asking about it? Will it embarrass her that I know? I don't want to make her feel badly. Does she even know? So many questions, I don't know where I'll begin.

My eyes slowly open to the sun's light coming through the sheer curtains. Can it be morning already? I look down at the clothes I had put on for work yesterday morning. Was it all a nightmare? Please tell me I dreamed that I found those papers. Alice knocks on my door as she opens it slowly. 

"My, my, I really must have worn you out! You didn't even put your pajamas on to sleep." Alice notices as she places a coffee cup on the dresser. 

I begin to sit up realizing that my back didn't appreciate the way I fell asleep. "Yeah, I guess I was more tired than I thought." Even I can tell that there is an unnatural tone to my voice. "I think I need to shower before drinking that coffee. My back is a mess." I say trying to be more jovial. 

"Okay! See ya downstairs." Alice says as she turns to exit the room.

The warm water pours over my head as I try to formulate a plan. I just need to address it head on. I'm sure she can't know about her ancestors, she would have told me. When she finds out, I'll be there to comfort her. This is no different than any other tough spot we've worked through together. I feel refreshed and more able to tackle the day as I put on my comfiest work clothes. I grab my coffee and head downstairs.

I see Alice sitting on the back porch. No time like the present to get this over with. 

"Hey, Alice. I need to tell you something about that paperwork I was going through last night. You know, that box with your family tree and deeds?" I start as I sit down.

"Oh, okay. Did you find something interesting?" Alice answers back.

"Kind of, but not really in a good way, unfortunately."

Alice interrupts, "You mean no love notes from Aaron Burr?"

"No, nothing like that." I say trying to laugh it off with her. "Um, I don't know how to say it other than just saying it, so here it goes. I found paperwork that shows your family owned slaves back in the 1850s." I relate the news as quickly as I can, hoping she understands me so I don't have to repeat anything. 

"Oh, that, yeah. Not proud of the fact, but it was what people did back then. I'll toss it in the garbage when we finish up down there." 

I'm in complete shock. She knows and is okay with it? I mean, I understand that she's had some time to come to terms with her ancestors' past, but still. I would expect that there would be some remorse in there somewhere. I know it's not her, directly, who owned slaves, but at the same time, knowing her the way I thought I did, I would expect something more than explaining it away so nonchalantly. Am I overreacting? 

My head starts to swirl in a haze again. My body uncontrollably cringes when I feel her hand on my back. 

"Can I make you anything for breakfast?" I look up to watch Alice form her words. "Are you okay? I don't think you've woken up all the way. Let me make you another cup of coffee." Alice says as she grabs my mug.

It's difficult to speak, but I manage to tell her I would be happy to make more coffee.

"No way! I can never repay you for all of your hard work, and giving up your spring break on top of that. It's my pleasure." Alice insists.

Should I press Alice for more information? Should I let it go? I'm feeling extremely lost. It's almost as if I've slipped into some alternate universe. I quickly try to think back to any conversation we've ever had about history, especially slavery and civil rights. I can remember tons of conversations about female empowerment. I mean, Alice was the poster girl for women's rights. I can't seem to recall any memory that eases my emotions. I have to say something. I have to.

Alice hands me a fresh cup of coffee, "Here you go...it's hot, so be careful." 

"Thanks. Alice, may I ask...were you upset when you first found out about your ancestors?"

"What do you mean, dear? Are you talking about the slavery thing?"

I immediately can tell that Alice is annoyed with me. She's always been the first to stand up for any minority treated unjustly. Why would this situation be different, right? I continue, "I mean, it's more than just a 'thing', though, right? It was a huge deal, it still is." I answer in a concerned tone. My heart beats loudly in my ears as I wait for her response.

"My friend, my dear, sweet friend. I'm proud of my family, ancestors and all. They earned money, invested in land and business, and knew when to sell. Did they own slaves? Yes, but that was what land owners did back then. Would we own slaves now? Of course not! The law saw them as property back then, and so did my ancestors." explains Alice.

"Alice! At no point, then or now were slaves EVER property. They were ALWAYS people. Unfortunately, they were people who were enslaved, treated horribly in every cruel way, and gaslighted to believe it was all okay, as long as it doesn't happen now." I point out trying to hold back burning tears of anger.

"Sweety, I'm not the one who owned them. I have nothing to do with that part of our family history." Alice says in an overly calm voice.

"So, you're not at all angry that your ancestors bought and maybe even sold slaves? You're not the least bit upset that your ancestors did nothing to stop the nightmare for these people?" my mind pleads with Alice to show some remorse.

Alice thinks for a while. "I don't understand what you want me to say about this. I don't want to upset you. Let's drop it for now, okay hun?" 

I agree to stop talking about it, but I'm not sure I can let it go. Clearly, Alice is not who I thought she was, and I'm not sure how to handle this. I decide that just sticking to the task of the week is the only thing I can do right now. Oh gosh, I hope we can resolve this somehow during our week together. Otherwise, it's going to be a loooong week.

As I start packing up her knickknacks marked for donation, I try to convince myself that I'm not as heartbroken as I feel. Alice thought it would be best if she finishes going through the paperwork in the basement alone. She's probably right. I try not to think about our conversation from this morning or what I found out about her family, but my emotions seep into everything I try to accomplish. We spend the day working in separate rooms. 

As I finish packing up knickknacks in the last bedroom, Alice quietly peeks her head into the room and asks what I would like for dinner. I hadn't seen Alice since our morning coffee. "I'm not sure. I'm pretty beat." I answer.

Alice fully moves into the room, "You need to eat something. I notice you didn't eat anything for lunch, so you have to be starving by now." 

I look up and see her gentle smile. I can't help, but to smile back at her. 

Alice continues, "Why don't we get out of these dusty, dirty clothes and go out to eat...my treat." 

I think about it. It would be nice to get out of this house. Maybe it will help to clear the cobwebs that have formed in my brain. I tell Alice, "Okay," as I stand up to go change. 

Once we figure out where to eat, we ride in silence. As I put the car in park, Alice grabs my wrist. 

Alice takes a deep breath, "Are we okay? I know you are bothered about my family history, but I'm hoping after mulling it over throughout the day, you've come to terms with it. I love you. I love you no matter what. I want to put this behind us, especially since I'm more than ready to start this new chapter in my life." 

Even though I'm sick of having to think and worry over this, I'm glad Alice brought it all up again. I don't want any more meals taken in awkwardness. I nod my head up and down, "Alice, I love you, too, but I'm going to need time to process it all. It was a shock to find out about your family history, but more than that, it was a shock to hear your justifications. Now, I don't want to rehash anything right this minute, but when I've sorted out how to communicate my feelings, we will need to talk again." 

I've heard Alice say that phrase hundreds of times. I never thought I would have to say it to her. Our friendship had been so easy before now. Even when I disagreed with her in the past, or vice versa, we respected each other's views and opinions and could find common ground. 

Dinner was spent immersed in small talk and Alice asking about my classes. Normally at our dinners, we spend our time together discussing newsworthy events of the day, current affairs, and other hot topics. Alice rarely asks about my classes. She wasn't excited to find out that I was entering the teaching field. At the end of the day, though, it was what made me happy, and she respected that. 

The next few days pass in about the same way. We go out to eat our dinners since we are both too tired to cook, and by the end of the week, everything, including her kitchen is packed in boxes or given away. Every night, before going to bed, I use my free time to read articles about other people's experiences when finding out their ancestors' owned slaves. Unfortunately, it doesn't help. Right or wrong, I decide I have to face my own feelings about Alice's family and try to talk to her again. I feel like I have a deadline to square this away before Alice moves, so I am forced to have this conversation. Could this change our friendship forever? I hope not. 

I walk through Alice's house. The early morning light encircles everything in a fresh glow. Every piece of furniture has a tag on it: green means the donation center will be picking it up today, red means it stays and will be moved to Alice's new apartment. I can remember running through this living room a million times, starting from probably the first time I could run as a toddler, to the moment I found out I got into college, when I tripped, fell, and cut my lip open. The last time I ran through this room was when I had been hired to teach. This house held us, squeezed us through the rough times, and celebrated with us in the good. This morning I feel something different. I feel like the house betrayed me. Instead of protecting me from this horrible secret, it made me see something I wish I never saw. Maybe the house felt betrayed by Alice and me because we decided Alice should move on. It sounds silly, but truly accurate. 

"I wish I could say it's going to be difficult to say good-bye, but I think I should have made this move years ago." Alice says as she walks down her grand staircase. 

"Alice, can we eat in tonight and talk?" I ask. 

Alice stares at me. After a minute, she lets out a deep breath and agrees. I know she isn't happy to have to discuss this issue again. It's important for me to properly explain why I am upset, or at least try. I wish I were one of those people who clearly communicates at all times, but I am exactly the opposite. I find it quite difficult to express my feelings and thoughts, especially when I need to do so, and especially in awkward moments. Who knew I would ever feel awkward around Alice?

After the last donation pick up had been made, I start to get our dinner together. Tomorrow is moving day. Nothing else is left in the house, but what's going to the new apartment, and of course, our newfound conflict. I hope that doesn't move to the new apartment with Alice's other stuff, but I'm not feeling hopeful given our past attempts at discussing this. I'm nervous so trying to put dinner together consists mostly of me dropping things and cleaning it up. 

Alice walks in and pours two glasses of wine. She hands one to me as she says, "I suspect we'll need some of this tonight."

I recognize the feeling of hyper-sensitivity coming on which is exactly the feeling I did not want to bring to this conversation. I want to state my feelings clearly, succinctly, and hopefully without emotion. 

I follow Alice to the back porch where there are still two semi comfortable lawn chairs sitting there. 

"Alice, as I've said, it's important that I tell you why I'm upset about your family history. I've tried to find a way that explains how I feel so you'll be sure to understand, but I can't guarantee that I can do that. Please be patient with me." I begin as the shakiness returns to my voice.

Alice stays silent, so I continue, "To say that finding out that YOUR family...of all families... owned slaves was a shock, is an understatement. I'm upset that you never told me, I think, because I wonder why you couldn't trust me with that secret."

Alice interrupts, "This is exactly why, dear. I knew you wouldn't be able to separate my relatives from me."

"Please, Alice...this is hard enough without losing my train of thought when you interrupt." I close my eyes to regain my thoughts. "As shocking and hurtful as it was to find out about this information in the manner in which I did, I'm much more upset by your response. It wasn't just your ancestors who treated those people like property, your response did, too. You were so calm and okay with everything..."

"Would you like me to build a time machine, go back in history, and change everything?" Alice asks as she interrupts in a very spikey voice. A voice I didn't recognize.

I look up at Alice with tears forming in my eyes. I've never been on the receiving end of Alice's forceful arguments, at least not like this. My insides burn as I fathom how she could speak to me in this tone, with those words. Usually, she meets my differing views in a loving, tell me more tone. This is completely different. This is a different person, not the Alice I know.

"Alice, I respectfully asked you not to interrupt. I know this can be a very heated topic, but I need to get this out without losing my words. I can't do this if you continue to interrupt." I repeat, summoning my most forceful voice. 

Alice stands up claiming she needs more wine. I try, once again, to gather my thoughts, hoping this is all worth it. Hoping that at the end of this conversation, everything will be fixed, and my Alice will be back. 

As Alice sits back down, I try one last time to explain, "I keep going back to what if these were my ancestors who had owned slaves...how would I feel about them, about everything? I think I would be angry. Angry at them for seeing fellow human beings as property. Seeing another person in such a way that it would be okay to commit such atrocities against them...my anger would be an anger that would never go away. You said that you are proud of your family for working hard and farming that land, but your ancestors didn't farm that land. Most of the work, most of the physical work was done by their slaves. Their slaves who didn't see one cent of that profit. Their slaves who were made to work from sunup to sundown in pain and who were tortured. There was no rest, there was no 401K. Their descendants didn't inherit any of that money from their hard work. I'm sorry, Alice, I would not be proud of my ancestors. I would be ashamed of them." By the time I finish, I have tears pouring down my cheeks. I want to say more, but I have no words for the anger I feel. I'm angry at Alice's ancestors and I'm angry at Alice for not being angry and ashamed, too. It goes beyond anger, though, and that's what I cannot put into words.

"But that's not how my ancestors saw their slaves. They didn't see them as fellow human beings. They were taught to see them as property." Alice tried to argue.

"ALICE! Even your relatives could see that these people were human beings. To say that skin color gave them an excuse to treat them so inexcusably is ridiculous, even back then. Half the country knew that, too." My tears turned to red hot fury as I started shaking. This conversation was ending worse than I could ever imagined.

"Dear, you are NOT listening to historical facts. You are looking at this from the viewpoint of modern times." said Alice condescendingly. 

I shake my head from side to side, "I don't know how else to explain it, Alice." I feel defeated. 

Alice stares at me with cold eyes, "I don't either."

I truly don't know what else to say, so I excuse myself for bed. 

I wake up knowing exactly what I need to do today. I need to help Alice move into her new apartment and then I need some space from her for a while. Maybe if I put some distance between us...between this horrible week with Alice and her family, maybe I will know how better to handle our friendship going forward. I love Alice. I can't simply forget our lifetime of friendship, but I also can't see why she doesn't understand the reason I am upset. 

Moving day goes smoothly, Alice is her usual upbeat self. The fact that she can return to such normalcy bothers me. Is she a better person because she can let this conflict go, and I can't? I love Alice, but I can't deny, that at least for the time being, our friendship has changed. 

It's been two months since I've visited Alice in her new place. School is out for the summer, so I am all out of work excuses. Since I don't really have any hobbies, I couldn't think of a reason I can't stop by. For my sake and for hope's sake, I've forgiven Alice. True, forgiveness doesn't come naturally in this situation, in fact I have to mentally forgive her every day. I pray that someday I will wake up and not immediately replay that devastating last conversation with her in the old house. I pray that one day, I will wake up and not have to convince myself to forgive her justifications. I pray that one day we can have a carefree friendship again, where I can totally trust her, and she can totally trust in me. I continue to feel guilty, and at times wrong for not being able to let this issue pass, as Alice has. At the same time, though, I still feel resentment that Alice cannot understand why I am angry. Alice calls me every week. I politely carry on a conversation, but it isn't the same. Our conversations consist of small talk, forced laughter, and long, awkward pauses. My mother doesn't understand why I don't just cut off the friendship if it makes me this upset. Alice is part of me, though. Cutting Alice out of my life would be like cutting a limb off. After mentioning this metaphor to my mother, she quickly pointed out that if I had a limb infected with cancer would we not think twice to amputate it?

I lock my car door and slowly walk into the air-conditioned lobby. As I wait to swipe my visitor's badge, I hear a news report on the T.V. It's an interview about "cancel culture." I step out of line so I can continue to listen to it. A woman of color is giving her opinion on the subject, and her words ring in my ears. The interviewer asks why she didn't think this "cancel culture" works to combat the issue of racism. Her answer is simple; without learning something new, people with racist beliefs or opinions will continue to live thinking that those beliefs and opinions are true. By canceling these people, whether it's taking them off the air, firing them, or cutting them out of our lives, we can't continue to educate those who need it the most. 

The interviewer's interest is piqued, and so is mine, as he immediately asks her another question, "What if we find ourselves saying the same things over and over, our anger growing with every repeated syllable. Wouldn't it just be easier to let them go, and just walk away from the situation?"

I will never forget her answer, "Yes, it would be much easier to walk away, but how will that help future generations if nobody understands why they were cut off, or why they were fired? Racism is very rarely discussed because it's an uncomfortable subject. But if we don't talk about our emotions behind it, and why we feel the way we do, how can anyone begin to see our perspective? By not talking about racism, giving credence to our emotions about it, we've given racism an opening to come back into being."

Alice opens her door with one of her famous smiles waiting for me. I immediately hug her. I love her unconditionally, but I will never stop trying to make her understand my views. 

The End

 

The EVERYTHING of Life

 Oh, my goodness.... what was supposed to be a short hiatus due to COVID, turned into what seems like a lifetime since I have been able to post a short story!  Life, for me, has somewhat forever changed. I'm sure most people can say the same thing. It's much more difficult to carve out time to write these days. My new writing goal is to write as much as possible but publish at least one short story a month. Here's to keeping myself accountable! 

    This is a tale of two very strong women, but really it's a tale of where two roads divide. Hattie was a detail-oriented born leader. She loved organizing any kind of get together, but rarely wanted to stay to the end of the actual event. Hazel, a leader in her own way, was the opposite. She didn't have the patience to look at each and every detail of anything; whether it was a party, or the dress her mother insisted she make despite the fact that she saved every penny she earned to wear a store bought frock. She would rather die than leave any social get together. Despite their opposite personalities, they were the best of friends. Actually, they were cousins, but best friends since their births. Births, which happened to be exactly two months apart. They did EVERYTHING together. They worked on their chores together, they attended school together, and when their parents would allow it, they ate and slept over at each other's house. Spending every waking, and sometimes sleeping moment with each other was extremely easy because they lived on the same land. Fortunately for the family, their grandfather planned his life very well, barely stopping until he acquired a huge parcel of land. It wasn't great farmland, but it grew some strong timber and gorgeous flowers. The first product being the more important, at least when it came to the sustainability of their land. Even more fortunate, Hattie, Hazel, and their other uncle's family were able to share that land.

    There were other siblings and cousins in the family, but when it came to Hattie and Hazel, the world was solely a party of two, at least in the beginning. Growing up together, they definitely had different identities, but loved sharing EVERYTHING. They shared clothes, school supplies, and even their birthdays. They loved sharing with each other, especially their birthdays. Their moms would splurge and buy the ingredients to make them a cake since they shared their celebrations. It was their very own cake, they only had to share with each other. Other siblings and cousins shared birthdays, but they did so begrudgingly. Hattie and Hazel wouldn't have it any other way. 

    Even having their own identities, both girls dreamed of traveling and being in business for themselves. It must have been in their blood, after all, their grandfather started his own lumber business, and their dads and uncle started their own transport business for lumber. Business was not just for the male family members, but something in which their moms took part, too. Their moms grew beautiful flowers, and after winning the top prizes in the county fair for many years, started their own flower business. They mostly sold to the bigger cities, but could transport an order easily, since the men transported lumber to those cites, as well. 

    Hattie dreamed of traveling to the big cities of the world, organizing the best and fanciest parties. Their small town's little library had old issues of magazines that showed her glorious table settings and decorations. Hattie could only dream of using materials that indulgent. She would timidly touch the pages of the magazine as if she were touching the delicate glasses and plates. Once school dismissed for the summer, Hattie would use the very last nub of her chalk to draw plans for her own table settings and decoration. Once the chalk ran out, she resorted to drawing her plans in the dirt, carefully imagining the hues that matched each event.

    Hazel, on the other hand, had different traveling aspirations. She wanted to travel the world to see the sights that she had read about so many times. She longed to see the lights of Paris, the London Bridge, and dared she dream, the Great Wall of China. She too, flipped through those old magazines at the library, but instead of eyeing the social issues, she drooled over every issue she could get her hands on about world travel. Neither young girl knew how she would afford to fulfill such dreams, but they had fun dreaming away the evenings after finishing chores, discussing which country they would "dream" to that night. As long as they had their dreams, and those magnificent magazines, they had their happiness. They had EVERYTHING.

It all changed the summer after they graduated. That summer, their parents insisted that they learn the transportation business, so off they went with their uncle to deliver lumber and flowers to the closest city to their little town. It was a long and uncomfortable drive. After they made their deliveries, they swept out the cargo bed and slept under stars before making the same long and uncomfortable trip home. How they both wished they could sleep in the luxurious beds of the hotel they passed when they first rolled into the city. They drifted off to sleep listening to the foreign sounds of the city. Before they started on their journey home the next morning, Hattie and Hazel decided to take a short walk to see as much of the city as they could. Even though this city was much smaller than the cities of their dreams, it was a good start for them. If they hurried, Hattie could gaze into the beautiful windows of the hotel that they had seen. She thought she had seen a fancy table setting in one window as they drove past, but her view had been disrupted and she couldn't get a good look. Hazel was just happy to see new sights and the hustle and bustle of a city, even if it were a smaller one. Hattie nearly pulled Hazel's arm off hurrying her down the blocks of the city to reach the hotel windows. Hazel wished she would slow down so she could see EVERYTHING, but she understood that they needed to get to the hotel and back before their uncle was ready to leave for home. 

    Once Hattie saw the window display, she could see that the dining room of the hotel was dressed for an event. She couldn't resist, she had to go in if only for a second to take in the beauty of that room. A room that would welcome the fanciest of people. She pleaded with Hazel to just take a step inside with her. Hazel, always up for an adventure grabbed her arm and escorted her through the doorway. The room was breathtaking. Beautiful white and baby pink roses decorated the tables, along with crisp white linen and sparkling glasses. It was as if the entire room was glowing with perfection. Just as Hattie was taking in a new breath to admire the rose scent of the room, she realized Hazel was in the middle of a conversation with a handsome gentleman. Hattie smiled at the stranger as she heard Hazel thanking him and saying good-bye. Hazel once again grabbed her arm and escorted her though the doorway, this time, though, she didn't let go until they had reached the end of the block and turned the corner.

"What was that about?" Hattie asked. 

"His name is Nelson and I think he is the most exquisite person I've ever met!" Hazel exploded as she let out her breath.

"What was he doing there? Does he work at the hotel?" Hattie was quite curious, but not for the reasons Hazel wanted. 

"Of course, he does. He's the assistant manager." Hazel informed her in her most formal voice. "Didn't you hear anything he said?" 

Hattie was amazed that she hadn't heard the conversation, but was more interested in gushing over the decorations than what she had missed. Both girls were talking, but neither listened to what the other was saying. By the time they reached their uncle, they were both in a frenzy of exclamations and hand gestures. Their uncle, a tad frustrated with all of the noise and commotion, signaled that it was time to go and wanted to do so in silence. Hattie and Hazel didn't mind the silent hours that it took to get home, for they both were too busy day dreaming about their new experience to notice any of the bumps in the road or tiny space in which they had to squeeze. 

For the rest of the summer, Hattie and Hazel accompanied their uncle to the city to make their family's deliveries. Every time they went, they stopped by the hotel; Hattie to see how the dining room was decorated, and Hazel to visit Nelson. The girls weren't the only ones who enjoyed the delivery trips. Nelson had become very fond of Hazel. Towards the end of the summer he insisted that the girls and their uncle come to the hotel for dinner, it would be his treat. Hazel begged her uncle for permission, but he wanted nothing to do with a hotel "fancy" dinner. After hearing days of both girls pleading their cases, Hazel's mother convinced her father to take the delivery to the city and the girls to dinner. Hazel wrote to Nelson as soon as she knew when they would be making the next delivery. Both girls spent every free moment pouring over which dresses to wear. They searched through all of their female cousins' closets to find the perfect ensembles. They didn't want anyone in the city to look at them and know they lived in the country. 

The day of the delivery finally arrived. Because there was no room for big suitcases, Hattie and Hazel  dressed in their formal wear as their mothers carefully adorned each girl with family jewelry. They felt very special, and uncontrollably excited. They were relieved that Hazel's father was the one making the delivery so they could talk about their expectations of the evening on the long journey. The trip, of course, felt like it took twice as long, but they made it without incident and there they sat at the fanciest table they had ever seen. Hattie was in heaven. Not only could she study the dining room set up for formal dining, she took in every new person she saw, noting what both the women and men were wearing, from their hats down to the cleanest, most formal shoes she'd ever seen. She made sure to tuck her own feet under the table where they couldn't be seen. Her mud spattered shoes would have been a dead give away for a country girl, for sure. Hazel, on the other hand was quite disappointed with the dinner conversation. Primarily because she wasn't a big part of it. Her dad took the opportunity to ask Nelson question after question about his family and his aspirations in life. It became very apparent that her mother had given her father questions that needed to be asked. Hazel became even more discouraged when they had finished the dessert course and she knew her time with Nelson was coming to an end. Much to her surprise, as they stood up, Nelson asked her father if they could take a walk, just Hazel and him. He suggested that Hazel's father and Hattie sip on after dinner drinks and keep an eye on them. Nelson assured Hazel's father that they would never walk out of sight. Much to both girls' surprise, her father agreed, as long as they indeed stayed in sight and remained several inches apart. 

    As Hattie sat sipping her coffee, she could feel something change. She knew it wasn't going to be her and Hazel against the world anymore. She had never considered what life would be like without her best friend. Neither girl had ever talked about getting married and having families. She hated the thought of living like her parents. She loved her parents and was thankful for EVERYTHING they provided, but from an early age, she knew that was not the life she wanted. That was one of the big reasons her and Hattie weren't close to their other cousins. She and Hazel were looked at as different, not normal, because of their high aspirations in life. In fact, they had grown up being made fun of, not just from the siblings and cousins, but anyone at school who happened to overhear their lofty life goals. Not to mention, that was not what girls did in life. Girls were expected to get married and have children. For Hattie, it was expected that her husband continue the family business, since Hattie only had sisters, older sisters who had moved away. Many cousins had moved away to start their families, much to their parents', aunts', and uncles' despair. 

    Hattie watched Hazel and Nelson with burning eyes, eyes that wanted to tear up, but Hattie desperately would not allow her tears to ruin Hazel's special evening. Just when Hattie returned from the ladies' room, Hazel and Nelson returned to the table. Hazel was in noticeably better spirits, especially when her father agreed to return for breakfast before leaving the next morning. There were many things Nelson mentioned he wanted to discuss with Hazel's father. Hattie knew the rest of the evening would be spent listening to what Nelson might discuss at breakfast. She dreaded that subject more than any other. However, Hattie swallowed her pride and was the first to bring up the Nelson subject when they were free of any other's company.

"What do you think Nelson wants to discuss with your father, Hazel?" 

"I know exactly what he will ask." Hazel grabbed Hattie's arm, trembling. "He wants me to move to the city. And Hattie, he wants you to move with me!" 

Hattie's head started swirling with excitement. She had assumed Nelson wanted to marry her, but this was an unexpected turn for the better.

"But where would we live? What would we do for money?" Hattie questioned Hazel as quickly as she could.

"Nelson has it all worked out! We can rent a room at the hotel while we work there." Hazel's smile widened as she explained the plan that Nelson had set before her.

They woke as the sun peaked slightly over the horizon and everyone was ready for their breakfast appointment before the sun rose much further. Hattie was amazed at how differently the dining room looked for breakfast. Still elegant, but only a couple of daisies adorned each clothed table. Nelson was already in the room, waiting to greet them. He insisted on taking Hazel's father into a different room for their discussion. Hattie thought about why Hazel couldn't be in the room to talk about her own future, and for that matter why shouldn't she be allowed into the conversation, too? It was, after all, her future as well. Both men returned looking stoic, however, as soon as Nelson looked at Hazel, his face emoted EVERYTHING the girls needed to know. 

    Hattie and Hazel felt like they were riding on clouds as they traveled home. Nothing had been decided, but Hazel's father left Nelson with a promise to discuss the details with Hazel's mother and Hattie's parents. Hazel's father had used the words, "appreciate the opportunity and hope to work with you soon." To both girls, this meant that Hazel's father was in agreement for this arrangement. It would be good business to accept Nelson's offer; both girls live and work at the hotel, in the kitchen. The family's flower business would be used whenever they could deliver to the hotel. While living in the city, Nelson and Hazel could continue to get to know each other in the hopes that they would be engaged. Of course, every meeting between Hazel and Nelson would include Hattie, and at no time would they meet without a respected chaperone. The gloom and sadness that Hattie had felt at the table just the night before quickly faded away as she imagined all of the new possibilities. The girls felt like this would be the springboard they needed to start a life of travel. If they could learn the hotel business, they would certainly be able to work at any hotel around the world.

That night, the family had a dinner of their own. Hazel's father reported the details of the new business opportunity, and the opportunities for Hattie and Hazel. Hazel's mother was happy, but they could tell she was a bit disappointed, having hoped that her only daughter would now be engaged. Hattie's parents were disappointed as well, but for very different reasons. They worried about the lumber and transportation business, and who would run it when they were too tired to continue. They had dreamed of both girls marrying men who would want to work in the lumber industry, ultimately taking over their business. Hazel had only one brother, and they only had one male cousin to continue the family business with her brother. Hattie's eyes burned once again with the thought that her parents may not approve of these new opportunities. Her life would be ruined if they didn't agree. Would Hazel move on without her? She wouldn't, would she? Nelson's plan of courting Hazel was contingent upon Hattie being their respected chaperone, wasn't it? Neither girl slept that night. They couldn't sleep until they knew what their fates would be. Hattie's parents promised that they would have an answer the following night. 

    Hattie stared into her parents' eyes that next night, willing them to say yes with all of her might. She sat across from them at the supper table, waiting, holding Hazel's hand underneath the table, both girls squeezing as tightly as they could. They watched Hattie's father form the words yes, Hattie could go with Hazel. Even as those wonderful words echoed through the room, Hattie was forced back to reality when she heard that she would have to return as soon as Hazel was married. She didn't want to care, she wanted to be grateful just to get away, only if it were for a short time. She tried to tell herself that she would find other opportunities that would allow her to stay in the city for as long as she wanted, but she couldn't help feeling discouragement seep into her pep talks. Hazel switched from squeezing Hattie's hand to squeezing her entire body. Hazel was overcome with joy and delight at the possibilities that stood in front of her. Nelson too liked the idea of traveling. His aspirations were of traveling to New York, more than Hazel's dreams of seeing the wonders of the world, but Hazel didn't mind a short stop in New York. That would be the perfect place to learn how to be "worldly," and then on to conquer the rest of the world.

    That night Hazel promised Hattie that she would help find a way to keep Hattie from having to move home once she was married. Hazel assured Hattie that Nelson had friends who would most certainly be interested in courting her. Hattie balked at the thought. She didn't want to have to rely on a man to make it possible for her to stay. She was smart and she could definitely take care of herself. For the first time, Hattie found herself thinking of a life without Hazel. Through her exhausted stream of silent tears, she confidently formed a new version of her life, a life in the city, living on her own. She wasn't sad anymore. Her sadness sharply turned to anger and resentment.

    The next morning brought about a lightened mood for Hattie. She quietly and obediently helped Hazel and her aunt prepare for their move. Hazel offered to return the favor and accompany her back to Hattie's house to pack, but Hattie turned down the offer.

"It's okay, Hazel. Spend time with your mother." Hattie welcomed the chance to go home and pack alone. 

Moving day had come. Both families planned to make the long trip. One family would haul the lumber delivery and the other would haul the girl's things. Hazel and her mother spent the long hours speaking about wedding ideas. Hattie and her parents rode in silence. 

    Hattie breathed a fresh breath of independence. She convinced herself that she was going to stay in the city even after Hazel was married, no matter what. She had time to convince her parents. Hazel, on the other hand looked for every opportunity to see Nelson. She dragged Hattie downstairs every moment they weren't working or sleeping. Work consisted of washing dishes, cutting produce for the chefs, and when the dining and event rooms were empty of patrons, cleaning the rooms from top to bottom. Hazel drifted from one task to the next mindlessly. She never paid close attention to anything she did. She wanted to finish her tasks as quickly as possible so she could get back to Nelson. Hattie, on the other hand, wanted to learn EVERYTHING. She agreed to extra work in exchange for working with the event decorators. She knew how to cut and arrange flowers, so it wasn't difficult talking them into letting her help. Working extra also allowed for her to be excused from Chaperoning Hazel and Nelson. The courting couple resorted to dinners at the hotel where managers and other patrons could watch Nelson's every move. It wasn't too long before Hazel's parents were sitting in the beautifully decorated dining room, including extra roses for the special moment when Nelson asked Hazel's parents for her hand in matrimony. Hattie's aunt blushed as Nelson handed her a bouquet of red roses before handing an assortment of flowers to Hazel. The room spun as Hattie couldn't imagine what her own parents would say when her aunt and uncle returned home with the news of Hazel's engagement. Hattie would simply tell her parents no. No, she would not move back home. Between her kitchen work and apprenticeship with the decorator, she made enough wages to rent a room in the city. She had, just that day, looked at advertisements in the newspaper office. 

    Hazel looked beautiful in her simple, but elegant wedding dress. Hattie's aunt had planned to sew a dress full of beads, lace, and other decorative ornaments, but Nelson bought Hazel a store-bought gown as a wedding present. Hazel didn't care what she wore. She wanted to be married and on to planning their move to New York. Hattie pulled at her own dress. It was the same dress she had worn for both of her older sisters' weddings. For once in her life, she didn't care about the details. She knew the time was growing ever closer to when she would have to break her parents' hearts. That moment she would have to tell them no, she would not move home. 

    The wedding came off without a hitch. No one fainted, nothing was missing, and everyone had a good time. As her mother got ready for bed, she turned to Hattie. 

"Tomorrow, we will pack you up. I'm sure you're excited to be back at home." her mother said as she brushed out her long gray hair.

"I think I will stay." Hattie said as she mustered a small squeaky voice. Her mother spun around in an instant with a blank look on her face. At first, Hattie didn't think her mother had heard her. How would she have the courage to repeat what she had just said? A small smile appeared on her mother's face as she turned around to get into bed.

"Why, of course, you'll move back home. That was always the plan. Now turn out the light so we can get our sleep." Her mother used the most nonchalant voice Hattie had ever heard. It was almost as if her mother had expected this deception and planned accordingly. 

    The next morning Hattie woke early, gathered her things, and moved to a room she had rented a few days before her parents had come. She left a note of thanks and explanation for her parents to read. Hattie conveniently left out her new address in her letter and made sure not to mention her plans to either Hazel or Nelson. She couldn't bear to move home in defeat. She knew she had let her parents down, but it was for her own sake. Her parents would have to return to their family's home in embarrassment and humiliation. Someday she hoped her parents would understand and forgive her, but at that moment she didn't care. She had to take care of herself and make her own dreams come true.

    Months had gone by, and Hattie still hadn't heard from her parents. Once in a while Nelson would have a reason to come into the kitchen while Hattie was working, or he would consult with the decorator while Hattie was there. Nelson was a forgiving man and would always give her a smile and ask how she was doing. Hazel wasn't as forgiving. It was weeks after they had returned from their honeymoon before Hazel talked to her best friend. It was easy for Hazel to avoid Hattie since Hazel had quit working as soon as she was married. Even though the friends had made up, nothing was ever the same between them. Hazel couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of betrayal. Betrayal because Hattie didn't confide in her and had kept the most secret of secrets from her. As seasons passed, Hazel was able to move passed her feelings of betrayal, and by the couple's one-year anniversary, the two friends met up regularly. Hattie never asked about her parents, though, and Hazel never reported back after visiting their childhood home. 

    One afternoon, just as Hattie was finishing work, Hazel ran through the door of the kitchen clutching a very formal looking piece of paper. At first, Hattie couldn't understand what she was saying. Her voice was so high-pitched, and her speech was faster than Hattie had ever heard. 

"Hazel, you're going to have to slow down if you ever intend on me understanding you!" Hattie said in a most forceful tone.

"It's happened! It's happened!" was the only words Hattie could make out. Hazel handed Hattie the letter. As Hattie quickly skimmed the sentences on the page, she felt her face turn warmer and warmer. The letter was a contract with a hotel in New York.

"Hazel, did Nelson get a job managing a hotel in New York?"

Hazel violently nodded her head up and down. Hattie was familiar with this uncomfortable warm feeling. It was similar to how she felt when she sat in that very hotel sipping coffee with her uncle, watching her best friend fall in love with Nelson. Her life was once again going to change, and she would be left without her best friend.

        A few days before Hazel's big move, she once again returned to Hattie's kitchen, only this time it wasn't out of excitement. Hazel was holding another paper. It was a telegram from their uncle. Hattie had a difficult time deciphering what was on the page. It was about her parents. There had been an accident on one of their deliveries. Hattie was needed at home immediately. Nelson offered to help move her home. Hattie knew she couldn't say no this time.

    Hattie felt defeated. She was angry. Angry with her parents for dying, angry with her parents for not writing back to her, angry at herself for telling them no and disappointing them. Hattie was also angry with Hazel. Angry that Hazel would continue their dreams of traveling and seeing the world without her. Angry that her dreams were shattered in EVERY way. Just because Hazel had married, she didn't have to help the family. That made no sense to Hattie, and she was angry.

    Nelson and Hazel helped their cousin home, but as soon as the funeral was over, they left for New York. It was clear that Hattie would have to stay and take over for her mother in the family's flower business. She would also have to help make deliveries again. The last thing she said to Hazel was that if she knew this was how life was going to turn out, maybe she would have taken Hazel up on finding a husband for her. Hattie wished she had been joking, but both cousins knew she wasn't. Hazel didn't know how to respond to her cousin's anger, so she left without saying another word to Hattie.

    Hattie and Hazel didn't speak again for years. Hazel started many a letter, only to end up crumpling it up and tossing it in the waste bin. Hattie bottled up her anger and sadness. She did what she could to help her aunt with the flower business, but it became clear very quickly that her aunt needed to retire. Her back was too old to bend to tend to the flowers, her fingers were too full of arthritis to hold any gardening tool, and her memory couldn't retain what tasks she accomplished from one day to the next. Hattie had ideas to grow the business but couldn't implement them on her own. Hattie was ready to end their flower business when much to her surprise, one of her nephews, who had learned how to grow flowers from her aunt stepped in to help. 

"When did you learn all of this, Lars?" Hattie asked her nephew.

"Aunt Gertie taught me. Ma worked the numbers in the lumber yard and Pop, of course, worked with the lumber. Gertie watched after me and taught me EVERYTHING she knew while she did it." Hattie's nephew answered.

    Hattie's brain started turning. It had been years since she allowed herself to dream of anything. It was as if a light had gone on in her head that reinflated her soul. Hattie spent the next few weeks researching, writing letters, and planning her new business. 

    Just as things looked up for Hattie, things for Hazel started to look grim. Life for Hazel wasn't as glamorous as she had planned. New York was not what she had expected, and neither was Nelson's new management job. Hazel had planned on Nelson spending his days managing the hotel and his evenings escorting her to the best social events of the time. Her reality was the opposite. Nelson was the newest manager, so he spent his evenings working and his days sleeping. Hazel wasn't used to doing anything without Hattie or Nelson, so she felt trapped and alone in their tiny apartment. Her dreams of sight-seeing around the world were fading away as Nelson started to talk about children.

"You never mentioned anything about wanting a child," Hazel insisted as Nelson got ready for work.

"I always assumed, at some point, we would just have one," Nelson laughed back.

"We were going to travel around the world, see the lights of Paris, walk the Great Wall of China, sail the waters underneath the London Bridge. What about our dreams?" Hazel followed Nelson until he walked out into the apartment building's hallway.

"We'll talk about this later," Nelson said as he kissed his wife goodbye.

    Hazel fell onto their sofa sobbing. She knew what Nelson meant when he said they'd talk about it later. That meant never. This was not the life she had dreamed about. Worst of all, she lost her best friend. Hazel's tears burned her hot face. Every year that passed made Hazel feel like that was going to be the year her life would change. Nelson would be able to work during the days and they would go to the parties she longed to attend. Every year ended up like the last. No parties, no traveling, no Nelson, and no Hattie. She felt defeated. She felt angry. Angry at Nelson for always working and never spending time doing the things she wanted to do. Angry at Hattie for being resentful of her life and not writing. Angry at herself for not helping the family out when Hattie's parents died, and angry at herself for not being able to face Hattie after that mistake. Hazel didn't know what to do, so she did nothing.

 Two strong women, separated by a divide in the road. Separated by EVERYTHING.

An Update On My Children's Book

Hello! I hope everyone is well and finding their new normal as we all navigate through this quarantine. Yes, it's been a few weeks since my last short story. My attention needs to be with my family the majority of the time these days. However, I have an update on the children's book that I've written. I actually got up the nerve to send it to a beta reader! I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but it was a HUGE step for me. The beta reader had great things to say about the book and gave me some super helpful feedback. This gives me the confidence to move forward and potentially start the querying process. Hopefully, I will find some more beta readers and maybe even a novice editor so I'm ready for the next steps.

If you find yourself looking for something to do, please feel free to read my short stories. As I'm strengthening my writing skills I love feedback! Praying that everyone stays safe and better treatments for this awful virus can be found.

The Sweetest Things of Life

Life sure was difficult. I was born on a farm...an ocean of one crop after another. I used to think that was what the entire world was made up of. I had a lot of brothers and sisters, and unfortunately back then, I was the smallest...believe it or not. Everything was a struggle; eating, drinking, finding a suitable place to play...you name it and I'll tell you how many miles I had to hike in the snow...uphill...both ways. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating...a little.

A lot of people would come to visit the farm, but nobody seemed to want to play with me until one very cold February Saturday. I was trying to see what was left for lunch when I noticed all of my brothers and sisters running towards the gate. I couldn't imagine what was going on until I looked up...WAY up. Who did I see, but two humans. In an instant, my brothers and sisters surrounded them, wagging their tails and sniffing and licking their shoes. An utter embarrassment to act like that just because a couple of humans were in our pen.

I guess you could say it was more my size that caused me to be the last puppy to greet the humans. After all, I was ALWAYS the last to arrive anywhere, especially when it came to my pushy and uncouth siblings. I was forever getting squeezed out of the line to my mother...or to anything exciting, so this was no different. I liked to think I was just way cooler than the others and I purposely arrived late to see what the humans were up to.

The humans were ginormous! One of the humans was an older male and one was a younger female. They looked like they could be related to each other. The younger female bent down every now again to pet one of us. She had the biggest smile on her face. I could sense right away that she was a kind type of human. She was so funny because she kept repeating, "Oooo, they're just so cute! How will I ever choose just one?" Then the older male would tell her she couldn't take us all home. From his response I knew that one of us might be going home with them! Immediately, I started to cuddle up to both of them as much as possible. This was my way out and I had to make a good impression!

It worked because soon the female was scooping me up and cuddling me. That first cuddle moment was like magic. I'd never felt anything like it. Her warmth, not just from her body, but from her heart was incredible. I'm not quite sure, but I thought I saw a little tear in her eye. I wished so hard that she would take me home with her and I didn't stop wishing as I hard as I could until I was in the car with her, laying in her lap.

She held on to me pretty tightly and I was glad of it. The older male was in charge of driving the car. It wasn't too long into our journey that I heard her call him dad. We were in the car for a long time and I saw so many weird things. Quickly I found out that most of the world did NOT look like the farm. There were roads with lots of cars, big and little. There were buildings of all different shapes and sizes. Trees and flowers....and SO MANY PEOPLE! So many things to look at, hear, and smell!

Finally, not only did the car stop, but the dad turned the car off. I looked out the window and saw a hill of grass. At the top of the hill was a house. Was this my new home? The next few hours were kind of a whirlwind. I was pretty sleepy after that long trip, but I do remember the bath. The female, whose name I found out was Lonelle, gave me my first human bath. It was COLD, but I felt much better once she had me all wrapped up in the warm towel.

That first day was so freeing! I didn't have to wait in line for anything! When it was time to eat, I ate. When I wanted to sleep, I slept. No paws in my face, nobody chewing on my ear or tail. Just peace and quiet. The only hiccup was when the dad gave me a bone and then tried to take it away. Don't worry, I growled my most ferocious snarl and that did the trick. He quickly pulled his hand away and I was able to finish my bone. We had an understanding after that...he gave me all of his steak bones and I left his fingers intact.

I thought I had found my home, but the next day, Lonelle packed all my stuff up, put me in a box, started a different car, and away we went to a different home. This journey was full of a lot of twists and turns, but wasn't nearly as long as that first trip we had taken. Even though this trip was just her and me, she talked to me a lot. I really liked that. She acted like I was a human, too, and that made me feel special. We arrived to the new house and Lonelle made a bed just for me. I explored the new house, but I started to miss her dad. I really enjoyed snuggling with him.

The next day, Lonelle explained while I was eating breakfast that she would have to go to work. I was to stay in my bed area. My area had a water bowl and what she called a potty pad. I'm still not sure what I was supposed to do with that thing. She was gone so long I thought maybe she would NEVER be back, but just when I started to cry I heard her walk into the door. She cuddled me super tightly. I knew she missed me as much as I missed her.

The next few days were just like that first work day. Lonelle would leave in the morning, but return before dinner. I was mostly okay with that arrangement since I did my best sleeping while the sun was out. Then one day after work, she put me in the car box and drove me back to her dad's house. I was SO EXCITED to see her dad. I didn't want to leave his side. Every chance I had I curled up on him and just laid there. When he was sitting on the couch, I crawled up on his shoulder, stuck my nose in his pocket to stay warm, and watched t.v. with him. I thought my plan to never leave his side had worked. When Lonelle and her family went to church...they took me with them! I had NEVER heard of any puppy who got to go to church! It was great. Lonelle wrapped me up in a blanket and every so often pulled the blanket back, just a little, to introduce me to their friends. What a day!! It was the BEST!

That afternoon, however, Lonelle put me back in that car box and we drove up the mountain again. She told me she had to go back to work the next day. That was the way life went for a while. Lonelle would work for a bunch of days and then on the last day of work, back into the car box I went and down the mountain we drove to her family. I knew we were close to her dad's house when I heard the whistling song on the radio. When I heard that song I knew it was time to wake up and look out the window.

Life with Lonelle was perfect. One week she didn't have to go to work. She called it "spring break." She put me in my car box, but we didn't drive down the mountain, we drove somewhere else to see her dad! She told me it was where her dad worked. His work was big and had a bunch of windmills whirling around. She wrapped me in a blanket again and as soon as we saw her dad he grabbed me and cuddled me. He walked around all of his buildings showing me to people and telling them I was his granddog. I was his granddog!! I knew from then on, he loved me! Just when life couldn't get better, it had!

Life was full of dishwashers to lick, bones to eat, and fun car rides that led to new adventures. I wish life could have stayed like that for a bit longer, but for some reason I had to leave. One day, I started to feel very sick. I remember Lonelle said she would have to take me to the doctor to have her help me feel better. That sounded like a good plan, but I didn't make it. My little body just couldn't get better. So I've been up here in heaven ever since.

Don't worry, I've watched Lonelle every day...every week...every month...and every year over the decades. At first, after I had to leave, Lonelle wasn't doing very well. She cried a lot. I tried to talk to her and tell her I was okay, but she couldn't hear me. Slowly she got back into life. After a while she even started to laugh again. After I had been up here in heaven for several months, guess who else got into heaven? Her dad! I was so excited to see him, but I knew Lonelle would be very sad again. I wish I could have helped her.

We watch her together, me cuddled on her dad's shoulder. We've seen it all. We watched as she walked down the aisle to get married to that boy she started dating when I was still with her. We watched them welcome each baby. We've watched over those babies, too, and boy could that one baby cause some trouble! We will always watch over Lonelle and her family until we can welcome them to heaven and be together again. In the meantime, I know she still thinks of me. I hear her when she tells a story or reminisces about me. I will always love her as I know she will always love me. Our eternal friendship is one of the sweetest things of life!

 END 

My full name is Lonelle, and yes, this story is about my puppy. Her name was B-52 and she was a Beagle-y Beagle. Despite her EXTREMELY short time on this earth, she was one of the best things that ever happened to me. She entered my life at one of my darkest times, but she was able to witness one of my happiest moments, as well. We were only together for a handful of months before she passed away on my 24th birthday. She will ALWAYS be a part of me and I truly believe she is keeping tabs on me up in heaven with my Dad!

Run Away

The sun was setting across the desert floor. It was another painting-like sunset for which Arizona and New Mexico were famous. That was just the issue, though. Every day just like the last. Same sun, same dead end job, same problems, same boring life. She tried changing things up. She tried finding hobbies. She tried going out more. She tried making new friends. Nothing worked, she kept coming back to the same monotonous feelings of going no where in life.

She had taken the same way home from work every day. Another Saturday wasted at work. Another Saturday spent promising herself things would change. Another Saturday choosing which alcohol would dull the boredom for that night while giving the outward appearance that she had somewhat of a life.

She saw the moving truck driving in front of her and yearned for that to be her. Her soul ached for real change. Change that would guarantee a better life, or at least a different one than what she was forced to live. She didn't know what she wanted, she just knew it wasn't anything she had right now.

As she day dreamed about what a different life would feel like, she suddenly realized she wasn't in Arizona anymore. She saw a sign welcoming her to New Mexico and quickly glanced at the clock. She had been driving for over two hours...following that moving truck. How did this happen? Who does this? How much gas did she have left?

She pulled off of the highway as soon as she saw advertisements for gas stations. As she stood there, pumping gas into her car, she watched the vehicles on the highway as they zoomed passed her. What was she going to do? She could easily get back on the highway and find her way home. Or, she could just as easily get back on the highway and keep going forward. What she should  do and what she wanted to do were two very different things at that moment. Or were they? Should she stay in a life that was slowly killing her? She had tried to make changes in her life, but obviously she couldn't find what she needed. How was going back to a life she hated a good thing...a thing she should do?

She couldn't think clearly. All she could focus on was her heart beating in her ears. Nothing was making sense. She got into her car and got back on the highway. It wasn't long before she caught up to that same moving truck. She knew it had to be the same one because it was pulling a trailer with a blue Camero on it. She wondered to where they were moving. What would it feel like to wake up and not see a cactus? They must have a brilliant new job to make them move. Maybe they found someone to love for the rest of their life and would have to find a job once they got there. Either way, it had to feel wonderful...that promise of a new and different adventure. Waking up and not knowing what the day would have in store.

She noticed that the pinks and blues of the sunset had turned to pitch black as the moving truck signaled off the highway. She continued until she saw a rest stop.


                                      **********************************

He knew he should have left work when he had the chance. After all, when was the last time he actually got home on time? Being a detective, he didn't really have office hours, but on the rare day his cases were closed before a new one crossed his inbox he knew better than to linger too long around five o'clock. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. Just as he grabbed for his jacket, a clerk dropped a file into his box. Should he stop to have a look? Did he want to get sucked into a new case just as his opportunity to be the family man his wife and kids needed so badly could come to fruition? What he should do and what he wanted to do were two very different things at that moment.

He couldn't help it. People didn't go missing on a schedule. What if he lost a lead because he chose to go home a minute early? He would just look the file over and if nothing jumped out at him, he would continue on his way home.

Female...24 years old...last seen at work on Saturday...no show no call for her next shift and every shift since that Saturday...landlady hasn't seen her and her rent is now late. Her work, where she was last seen, was on his way home.

He walked in and immediately asked for a manager. This would be a quick interview, in and out. Probably no leads to be realized, but how could he ignore this missing person and just go home...how would that be something he should do?

"I told the cop who took my report everything I know. I saw her last Saturday when her shift ended. She hasn't been to work since and has missed all of her shifts. No, this is not like her. She's never been late to any of her shifts in all the years she has worked here. No, wait...there was one time when I think she had car trouble, but she called way before her shift started. No, she didn't seem upset or different the last time I saw her. She was her normal, no personality self. No, I don't know if anybody here knows her outside of work, but please, don't give anyone an excuse not to work. Look, I don't have time for this. The only reason I made the report is because I can't fire her and close her employee record if I can't get a hold of her. The way I see it, I'll let the professionals do the hard part. When you find her, I can fire her."

He never got used to it, the callous, unsympathetic human roadblocks who stood in the way of moving a missing person's case along. Every case had at least one person like that. He never, in all of the years he worked in this division, understood why. Why wouldn't someone do all they could to help find a missing person?

"You want me to look in her employee record and give you the information of her 'in case of emergency' person? Is that legal? I mean, I won't get into trouble for giving out information that is supposed to be private? *HUGE SIGH* I mean, it's going to take me a minute to find her information."

He texted his wife to let her know he would be home soon.

"Here's her employee record. I need to get back to work so bring it back when you're done with it."

He left shaking his head in sadness. Was it sadness from the unfeeling interaction he just had with a missing person's boss, or was the sadness caused by knowing that this was going to be an impossible case to solve?

The next day started out the same way the day before had ended. The landlady.

"Don't you people write anything down? I thought you had fancy voice recorders to record everyone's conversations...whether they give you permission or not. Yes, she's always been on time with her rent. Hell, some months she was early. I could count on her check being the first in the rent slot. No, I've never had any issues with her. NO, she doesn't have a lot of people coming and going. Are you going to let me know when I can clean her apartment out? I need to rent it out before I start losing all my money! I can auction her stuff off to recoup this month's rent, or close to it, but I need to start listing it now! What? Who is her emergency contact? Well, I don't know. She must have written somebody down on her application. Her application couldn't have been processed without every line being filled out. You want me to go get it? Right now?!

He watched her limp off in her "Three's Company/Mrs. Roper" house dress. He guessed this human roadblock was about a million years old and probably never once thought to be kind to another human being in all those years on this earth. He started to knock on doors using her employee of the month picture as identification. Certainly someone here must know her. Nobody answered. As he watched the landlady come closer, he mentally kicked himself for not demanding the key, as well as the contact information.

"Here! Now can I list her stuff for auction so I can get my money?! What? Now you want her key? Well, don't take anything. If she can't pay her rent that stuff is mine!"

He prayed all the way up to her apartment that he would find something of use...and no dead bodies. Probably should have thought of the dead body thing first, but he was trying to be hopeful that she had just run away and not expired. Her apartment was dark. He didn't noticed any fowl smells. The apartment looked kind of empty, everything in its place, but not a lot of anything. He made his way through the small apartment, clearing every space. Nothing. The only clue that she was human was the fact that it looked like she had lived on diet soda and various alcohol. No chips, no cookies, no cigarettes. Every room was another dead end. He looked over her rental application. There was only one name listed under the personal reference section and it was the same name that filled the emergency contact line. He figured it had to be mom or sister.

"Hello? Who did you say this is? You're a detective? Who are you looking for? Yes, I know her. That's my cousin...my mom's sister's daughter. No, I haven't seen her in years. Not since we graduated from high school. The last time I talked to her was probably around two years ago. She called out of the blue wanting to meet up, you know, reconnect, but I was pregnant at the time, so I told her maybe another time. What can I tell you about her? Umm...she's responsible and she's quiet. *SCREAMING IN THE BACKGROUND* Yes, everything is okay, just trying to wrangle my toddlers. I wish I could be of more help. I have no idea where she could have gone off to. I don't know who her friends are or if she's dating anybody. Look, I really do have my hands full so I gotta let you go. Tell her to call me when you find her."

It was another day ending in a head shake. At least he'd be home on time again...was that a good thing?

He woke up to his phone vibrating across the nightstand. He didn't want to answer it for fear it would be another impossible case. It was worse. It was homicide. They found a body in the desert...where else? It matched her description. He would be in the office ASAP with her photo.


                                       *********************************************

She woke up just as the sun peaked above the sand and cacti. Another painted desert sunrise. Same sun, same dead end job, same problems, same boring life. Only, this time, she was thankful she still had the same old stuff. Two days ago she could have lost it all. She could have thrown it all away and have nothing right now. No place to live, no job...nothing. As she got herself ready for work, she listened to a story about a young woman who had gone missing and now detectives had found her body in the desert. They were looking for any information about this poor girl.

She remembered thinking that this girl could have been her. She thought about how similar this girl's story was to her own for days. She couldn't let it go. She had to do something to change her life and ensure she wouldn't end up like this poor girl on the news. For God's sake, she had followed a moving van all the way to New Mexico just to try to find some change, some purpose. In a flash it came to her. She looked up this girl's story on line to find the detective's name.

"Hello? Yes, I'm looking for information. You see, this girl that was found in the desert could have been me. How do I become a detective in the missing persons' division?"

                                                                        END

Yes, this picture was really taken in Arizona or New Mexico. I was riding in the moving truck that is in front of this vehicle, so I'm not sure at which exact point it was taken. It was a very looong trip and honestly, after a while, every desert landscape looked the same regardless of which state we were in. It wasn't until the third day of this trip that I didn't think we were ludicrous and the worst people on the face of the earth for moving our young girls and us away from our extended families. Finally, on that third and last day, I began to feel hope and allow myself to think of all of the fantastic what-ifs. It was definitely a life-changing trip and I thank God every day that He led us on that journey.

New Beginnings

What is "impromptu" writing? It's a term I put together to describe this blog's style of writing. For this style of writing, I find a picture and then create a fictional story that accompanies it. It can be a nature photo where the story is driven by the setting. It could be a photo of people posing as I find a new story to parallel their picture. Any picture may evoke a new fictional story! Here's this week’s....

  

  

 Sure, I would smile for the camera, what did I have to lose? After all, this was probably the closest I would get to my parents gazing at me the way they were beaming at my sister. Saying that they were proud of my sister was certainly an understatement. They have pride oozing out of every pore on their bodies. What's worse is I know that there is nothing on this earth I could ever do to earn that pride from my parents for myself. I could discover the cure to some horrible disease, or invent something that would change life for the better and yes, they would be proud of me, but not like this. It's not their fault. It's magic.

Yes, my sister Helen has been invited to attend the best witches’ university in the United States. Did we know we had a witch in the family? Yes, my Dad was a well-known witch, so it came as no surprise that at least one of us would receive an invitation to one of the leading magical schools. My dad's time as a witch was short, but that's a story for a different time. As is the theme of the day, my attention is on Helen's story. I'm trying as much as I can to keep the green-eyed monster of jealousy away, but it's difficult when I continually question fate and the universe's decision to choose her...only her. My dad advised me that it would be to my own detriment to ask any "why" questions in this situation and trust that there was an equally awesome adventure for me, But if you ask me that sounded like generic "dad talk." You know, the stuff that all parents have to say to the "lesser" child.  

The steam engulfs my face as Helen climbs the steps onto the train. The excitement she must feel right at this moment, not to mention the wonderment she will encounter on her unique journey to the school is overwhelming. Dad has not only described this journey in bedtime stories, but he has sketched the fine fir trees that cover the countryside, welcoming students, and alerting them that they have almost arrived at their magical destination. That's only after traveling across miles and miles of track hovering above the glassiest water one would ever see. I spent my entire childhood closing my eyes to dream of these sights, but it will be Helen who witnesses these beautiful sights in person.

I can't help it. It should have been me. Helen didn't even like Dad's stories. She was forever rolling her eyes as he described his first days at the elite witches’ university. The only spells she was ever interested in were the spells that lessened her workload in some way. Of course, that means she would have to remember a spell. Then there's the issue she has of making the spell actually work. She is horrible at spells because she never wanted to listen to dad. 

Suddenly I hear the train whistle bellow and the engine hiss it's final puff of steam before the giant wheels begin their first rotation. I turn to find my parents and see a sea of adults waving, blowing kisses, and yelling their final goodbyes. I want to sprint back to the car so we can get that lonely ride back home over with. I already hear my mother recounting all the ways she is proud of Helen...how special Helen is, how intelligent Helen is....and as if that weren't enough, how beautiful Helen is, too. My mother's attitude towards Helen's "achievements" are especially infuriating to me. My mother is one of the main reasons my dad is no longer a practicing witch. That's right, my mother loathes that part of my dad's life and yet as soon as Helen received her notification of invitation, my mother was the first to spread the word with over-the-top pride. It's the ultimate in hypocrisy and if I think about it for another moment, I might turn her into something. 

Yes, I can do magic. Technically, I'm not supposed to cast any spells or enchantments for many different reasons, but I just can't help it. There are times when the magic seems to just flow from my fingers without any intention or purpose from me. Luckily, the few times this has happened nobody was around. I thought for sure when the invitation arrived at the house that it was going to be me boarding that train today, but no, it was Helen's name announced. After hearing her name and not mine, I probably stood in that spot…in that moment for hours, I was in such disbelief. I still can't believe it.

***************************************************************

Helen has been gone for a few months now. We receive weekly letters from her, reporting all of her new discoveries and adventures. She's not much of a writer, though, as her early experiences at the  university don't sound nearly as... excuse my pun...magical as I was expecting. I'm still debating if this is solely from the fact that she isn't much of a writer, or if my expectations, once again have exceeded reality. Either way, I don't have time to focus on Helen anymore. My life has exponentially become more exciting as my dad has not only started practicing magic again, but is teaching me more advanced magical skills! Previously, he had insisted that he could never teach me as his student because of my mother, but the impossible is happening. Only, I don't think he's happy about it. It's not that he's afraid of getting caught breaking his promise to my mom, it's something quite different. It's almost as if he feels something magically big will enter into our world and he's preparing me. AND, I think my mother already knows that he is teaching me the ways of the witch and is okay(-ish) with it. Whatever it is, we're ready. My dad and I are unstoppable.

Today, I'm practicing my potions. It's not one of my stronger skills, but my dad wants me to have a working knowledge of all the major components to magic, so here I am, bumbling around the kitchen. The upside to me practicing potions in the kitchen is that I can legitimately drive my mother from the area. Don't get me wrong, my mother does not spend a lot of time in the kitchen, but when the potion bottles come out, my mother tends to find even more excuses to leave the room, sometimes even the house depending on her level of frustration. Just like with my Dad, though, I have the feeling that there is more to her frustration. As if she knows why my dad is teaching me all of this and her frustration is founded more in fear.

 ***************************************************************

  

Something very weird happened on my way to school this morning. Something tried to grab me. That's right...something...not someone. As I turned the corner out of sight from my house a grey cloud surrounded me. It reminded me of the steam from the train on that awful day Helen left for school, but then I felt something tugging my entire body. Without thinking, my hands went into motion and I heard myself reciting a protection spell. I chanted it over and over again increasing my volume until the cloud dissipated. I didn't know what to do after that so I continued on to school. I tried calling my dad, but it went to voicemail and I didn't want to leave details of what had happened on a voicemail. I'm going through all of the normal routines of my school day, but I find myself being extra cautious. Peaking around corners instead of using my quick, just-get-me-through-the-day stride. Of course, I'm continually questioning myself as to if the events of that morning really even happened. Maybe I was daydreaming? 

I called my dad again before walking home from school, but just like this morning, I only reached his voicemail. I actually called my mom just to make sure nothing else had happened (why hadn't I thought to do that this morning?) and she said he had been in meetings at work all day. He came home for a quick bite of lunch and then back to work for more meetings. Dad warned me that if something were to happen it would be when I was most vulnerable...does my dad being in meetings all day count? Well, I'm ready for whatever weird event may happen on my way home, especially after this morning. 

The wind stopped, that's funny. The wind has been steadily blowing off and on all day and now nothing. It's funny the things we notice when truly paying attention to our surroundings. I see a jack rabbit sitting in a garden...he better run before Mrs. Fletcher comes out and catches him in her award-winning flower bed. I see a squirrel on the side of the tree. He must have heard me and decided to freeze until I pass. Once I walk by a bit, I turn around and expect to see the rabbit hopping off and the squirrel in motion either up or down the tree, but to my surprise neither animal has moved. I stay motionless for a couple of minutes, but nothing has changed. What's going on? I look up and see a bird in mid-flight, but frozen...wings not moving. Something is here, but what?  I try to turn to run home only to find that I too am frozen. I immediately start my protection chant, but I have to do something more. I have to find a way to move again. My fingers start to wiggle as I alternate my protection chant with a will to move spell. I can't panic...I can do this. I can now move my hands and arms and continue to gain control of more of my body until I can finally run. I continue chanting until I get home. 

Where's my mother? She told me during our phone conversation that she would be home when I arrived, but I can't find her. What's that noise? Somebody is on our roof! Before I can think about investigating from outside, I hear someone upstairs. Whoever or whatever it is, is getting closer! I start my protection chant again as I slowly walk up the stairs. I can hear rummaging upstairs like someone is going through my drawers. As I turn the corner to head towards my bedroom I notice Helen's door half closed. Ever since she left for the university we keep her bedroom door closed. I try to distract myself from thinking about what could be in Helen's room with remembering what excuse my dad gave as to why it is smart to close off her bedroom...heating efficiency...air conditioner bill...it's something like that. All out of excuses and steps, I force myself to push the door open to its entirety. 

I see a body of light, but it's not a brilliant light. It's a grey, dull light. I try a dissipate spell, but it doesn't do anything. I try a couple more spells, but only manage to annoy the being. I feel my feet leave the carpeted floor as I slowly fly up into the roof and then quickly back down. Luckily, I land on Helen's bed. I feel the grey steam cloud from this morning and before I can start chanting, it's gone.

I sit up and see my dad walking out of Helen's closet. 

"What was THAT?" I demand.

"That was my past catching up to me." my dad says shaking his head.

"What does that mean? Where's mom?" I ask.

"Your mom is safe with Helen." he says. "Magic like this isn't supposed to be practiced in our world, but as with anything in life you have people who don't agree with the rules and have their own agendas." dad explains. "That being wants something that isn't theirs and will do anything to get it. They have their own set of rules and therefore believe they shouldn't have to abide by ours, regardless of the fact that they are in our world. This is why I have started to train you and why Helen was invited to the school of magic."

What did he mean... this is why Helen was invited to the magic school?? I can’t make sense of what my dad is telling me. I sit down with a dumbfounded “thunk.” As if my dad could read my thoughts he continues to explain.

"The officers of magic knew that these beings wanted something in our world. They weren't sure which exactly so each of us took a suspected magical relic and hid it. Knowing that our families would become targets, Helen was "invited" to one of the magic schools for protection. The officers knew you have natural abilities when it comes to spells, so I talked your mom into letting me train you, secretly, in this world. I placed extra protection enchantments on your mother so at any point she thought she was in danger she would be transported to Helen at the witches’ university, no matter what happened to me."

"Why didn't you explain any of this before? Everything would have made so much more sense." I wonder out loud.

"We all thought it would be best if you didn't know the details. We didn't want you to spend these months in worry about what may or may not happen. We didn't know if, or when these beings would come to our world. This way you could live normally for as long as possible. I know you were upset when Helen was invited to the witches' university and you weren't. I thought I could make that up to you by training you here at home." answers dad.

"Will those beings come back to find what they're looking for?" I hesitantly ask.

Dad shakes his head and replies, "Only time will tell."

END

...can y'all tell what kind of books I've read? I have to end this week's blog with some nonfiction. The woman in the picture is my beloved mother-in-law. No, I'm not being sarcastic. I truly love my mother-in-law. Unfortunately, we lost her this past summer. She was quite a human, for sure. According to my daughters, their Grandma was magical, and I one hundred percent believe that, as well. Knowing her, I could have gone in SO MANY different directions for this week's short story. It comes as a huge surprise that I ended up with this type of story. I have written in a lot of different genres; however, fantasy hasn't really been one of them. I almost didn't publish this version, but my husband (a very talented D&D Dungeon Master and "me-appointed "expert in this genre) said I need to use this version of the story as long as at some point I continue it. I hope you enjoy it as well, and as always, I welcome comments.