Just Beyond the Hills….
Prologue
The Browns
Mrs. Brown lived in a tiny little thatched hut just beyond the hills, from the little town of Toraskald. Mrs. Wilma Brown was widowed, and had four daughters. They were Amelia, Clara, Chloe, and Evelyn. Amelia and Clara were twins, but not at all alike. They were both sixteen, and that was the only similarity between them. Chloe was thirteen and Evelyn was only nine.
The Browns were the town clothers. That was a word made up for them by the townsfolk. That was because the Browns did every job there was to do with clothing. They weaved cloth, they spun thread, the patched and sewed, and they made clothes, and washed clothing. The Browns, try as they might, could barely support themselves. They had a goat, and some pigs, and a black cat with white paws named Alcestis, and a dog named Aegina. Even without having to buy milk, or meat, they still had buy flour, and almost everything else.
Second Prologue
The Sterwells
The Sterwells were quite the opposite of the Browns. They were rich, owned the entire town, lived in a mansion, and had only one son, Fred. They owned a successful shipping business. Toraskald was merely their country retreat. But Fred was there permanently, because he couldn’t stand the city. They never paid much attention to the tiny Brown family that lived just beyond the hills, except when to collect tax. Mrs. Sterwell gloried on tax day, hoping to throw some poor farmer and his family off their land, because they couldn’t pay the tax. She was very cruel, heartless, and pitiless. Mr. Sterwell was never there in the first place, so we needn’t tell you about him. Fred, on the other hand, was kind, handsome, but not vain. All the town’s girls swooned over him, except for two. Amelia and Clara Brown didn’t heed him, because he never even came near them at all, and they didn’t ever see him.
Chapter One
Fred Sterwell wasn’t planning on anything today. He didn’t feel like having girls awe over his impressive strengths, amount of money, and his good looks. He wanted to stare and wonder at the strange cloud of smoke rising just beyond the hills. He had not noticed it before. Perhaps the only reason that he indeed had noticed it today was the fact that his mother was bringing in some lovely girls for him. Or rather, he was going to them. He didn’t actually think he would have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for that silly meeting. He was in the mood to think, and marvel at the strange trail of smoke rising from behind the hilltop. He was to dawdle, as well as one possibly could. He wanted to delay the meeting with those lovely girls. He read their names again.
Elizabeth Harte of Yorkshire
Sixteen years of age
Heiress of the Black Death Apothecaries
Mary Vivaldi of Sicily
Fifteen years of age
Heiress to the Duchess of Sicily
Miss Rebecca Landon of Kent
Seventeen years of age
Heiress to Taji Spice trade
Miss Abriella Teagen
Sixteen years of age
Heiress to the Sugar Trade of The Southern Steppes
Fred didn’t want to marry any stuck-up girls that were filthy rich. He wanted to marry a kind girl, an intelligent one too. She had to be able-bodied, and strong. Throw caring and beauty into it, and you had a deal. Fred put the ideas of marriage out of his way, and snuck out of the house, which wasn’t hard to do, as it was so large. He went around the town, looking for someone to come, carrying basket loaded with clothes. One of his family’s maids, Loretta, came strolling down the road from his house, carrying a basketful of clothes. She was obviously headed in the hills, and the string of smoke coming up just beyond the hills.
“Loretta!” She looked around, when her eyes fell on him; he saw disapproval, shock, and bewilderment.
“Mister Fredrick? What are you doing out here? Your mother is going to be like a grizzly bear when she finds out!”
“Loretta, PLEASE. Where are you going?” he asked her, eyeing her armload of laundry.
“Oh, me? That’s beside the point, Mister Fredrick. But if you must know, I’m headin’ for the Browns’.” She opened her mouth to continue, but thought better of it. “Must you know?”
“Who are the Browns?”
“Why, the Browns are the clothers, of course!”
“The what?”
“The Clothers. It’s a term made for them. Tis’ an occupation, that is.”
“An occupation?”
“Yes, the Browns, as in Missus Wilma Brown, and her four daughters. They do everythin’ there is to do about clothes, see. They bring the color back into things, stitch, and weave and spin, and clean. You can come with me if you’d like.”
Fred hesitated for a moment. Did he want to pay the price of hiding from that beastly mother of his? He decided that he’d take the chance. He had never even heard of these ‘Browns’.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Clara Brown absolutely HATED her life. Her family worked their behinds of every hour of the stinking day. They barely scraped by. Barely. Barely at all. But today, she was the only person here. With her mother and her sisters gone for the day, she was the only person there. The little shack never felt empty before, but today it did. Though it was overflowing with objects like clothes and books, it felt empty, without four more people adding to the daily turmoil at the house. Clara was around the back of the shack, in the garden, picking rosemary for the dinner. Just a bit of her great to do list her mother had set for her. She ran over her great “3 miles Long” to do list.
Clara’s to do list
1. make the dinner
2. feed the goat,
3. milk the goat,
4. feed the chickens,
5. wash the clothes,
6. weed the garden,
7. practice your French,
8. work at the loom,
9. spin some thread,
10. weave a shawl
11. iron
12. deliver the clothes
13. go to the bakers to get some bread
14. stop at the farmer’s stall and buy some grain
15. feed Aegina
16. feed Alcestis
17. read the Odyssey and the Iliad
Clara had done two things on the list. She had weeded the garden, and washed a fresh load of laundry. That was an 18th of it. She was plucking the weeds between the celery stalks now. She wondered if she could hear people coming up the path. Now she was sure that she could.
“Hello?” she called, uncertain of what she would hear.
“Missus Brown, would that be you? Oh no, It’s darling Clara. How do ya do on this fine morning?”
“Miss Loretta, would that be you? I'm doing fine today. Yourself?"
"As well as it ever get's, my dear. I have a new load for'ya t'day, and a fine gentlemen keen on meetin' ya."
Friday, October 24, 2008
Love Story
Her eyes have a light that dances and her hair, a luscious chocolate brown, her cheeks, a rosy pink. Sorry about that. I can’t help dreaming about Angela Michaels. Her beautiful blue eyes… oops. I’m doing it again. I’m Matthew, by the way, Matthew Denison. Angela is the prettiest girl in the 11th grade and I happen to be deeply in love with her. But she qualifies as ‘extremely popular’ and I qualify as ‘math geek’. And she’s got herself a boyfriend. Brett Anderson is Angela Michaels’s boyfriend.
The show P.D.A. in the cafeteria every other day and they hold hands too. I can’t quite see what she sees in him. He bullies little kids, cusses at teachers…
“Matt…. Matt? Snap out of it, man!” I was being jostled out of my fantasy. My good friend Chloe was shaking me. Again.
“What? Oh, Chloe, it’s you,” I said sheepishly. I had been dreaming about her again. Angela Michaels .Chloe knew. Chloe always knew.
“You did it. Again. Matt. How many times have tried to get through to you? There are other girls out there, ones who are actually available, maybe a little lower on the social scale. And don’t have humongous boyfriends. And so many exes...” She said, staring at the boys sitting at a table apart from the popular people’s table, glaring at Brett. Angela seemed to have dated every guy in the school by now.
“Anyway, Brett Anderson is pretty cute, but so mean. I see what she sees but I also see what you see, Matt, and don’t see how she misses it,” says Chloe reproachfully.
I chewed my peanut butter and banana sandwich in silence for the rest of Lunch. Once lunch was over, it was time for chemistry. And who should my lab partner be? None other than Angela Michaels.
Angela walks gracefully past, her pace smooth, her silky chocolate brown hair bouncing off her shoulders. Her straight pearly-white teeth glint in the light and her soft pink lips curl into a smile. Her indigo-aquamarine eyes are looking my way. I inhale the winter mint scent she has.
She looks like an Angel being kissed by the dawn in her lab coat and safety goggles. Her lips move, and they curl into a frown.
She reaches her hands out in the lab gloves, and places her hands on my arms. “Matt…. Matt Denison! We need to get working!” her melodic voice cries.
I had been dreaming again, and worse, it hadn’t been Chloe to jerk me out of fantasy. It had been, to my humiliation, Angela Michaels.
It got a lot worse. Chloe told Angela about everything. I could feel her bluebell eyes gaze fixedly at me at lunch, and her giggly friends in Earth science. And of course, I had to brave Brett Anderson’s glare, and his posse cracking their knuckles in my direction.
And to make it worse, the Enchantment under the Sea Dance was coming up, and Chloe was expecting me to ask out Angela Michaels . She told me if I really loved her, I wouldn’t be afraid of Brett and his posse. But I couldn’t help but be afraid of him, and his posse.
The wildest new gossip was that Angela had caught Brett bullying little kids out of their lunch money, and had seen him flirting with Sara Gilbertson. Angela and Brett were in a big fight. Angela was accusing him of kissing Jocelyn Meyer, and holding hands with Sara again. We all knew that Brett bullied and kissed Jocelyn and Sara every time he got the chance.
And then it happened. The night before the dance. Angela Michaels broke up with Brett Anderson. Brett was mad at first, but with in ten minutes was chasing down McKenna Parkers.
This Meant That…..
Angela Michaels was finally available
I approached Angela the next day with my legs shaking, and my voice trembling.
“Angela , w-would y-you like to go to the d-dance with me?” I asked her. Her eyes stared at me quizzically. She smiled.
“That would be… lovely,” she said happily. I let out a sigh of relief. “Pick me up around eight o’clock, okay?” she walked away to talk to her friends.
I had done it! I had finally asked out…..
Angela Michaels .
I went home in high spirits. I had asked out Angela Michaels, and she had said yes! It was as if all of my wild, crazy love dreams and fantasies with Angela Michaels were finally coming true.
8 o’clock tonight came all too quickly. I put on my navy blue blazer with a aquamarine tie, with none of the buttons done.
I was borrowing my mom’s green Porsche to take Angela to the Dance. I had a bouquet of roses for her, along with a box of French chocolates. I drove to Angela’s house in a bad case of stomach butterflies.
I walked up to her front door, and rang the door bell. Hurried footsteps sounded from inside. Soon, Angela opened the door. Her beauty was astounding. She had light blue eye shadow on, and mascara with eyeliner. Her hair had been curled, and she wore a diamond barrette in her hair. She had seashell earrings, and a starfish necklace.
She had a shiny sheen of pink lip gloss, and pink blush. Her dress was a light sea blue-green, with a pink sash placed above her diaphragm. It had a starfish embroidered above the sash. The dress fell just below the knees. She had on pink high-heels to match her sash, and a matching pink purse. I swiftly handed her the chocolates and roses.
“Here. For you,” I said nervously. She smiled happily at the roses and looked hungrily at the chocolates, and then looked at me, with a bit of each stare to complete it.
“Awe, you’re so sweet! WHOA! Nice car!” she had seen my mom’s Porsche. “I always wanted a green Porsche!” I smiled weakly. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get to the dance!” She rushed inside to put away the chocolates and roses. Her high-heels clicked on the floor. She shut the door, and looped her arm around my elbow. My heart skipped at her touch.
“Soooooo….. Where are your parents?” I asked, at an attempt to make a conversation.
“My mom is at her friend’s 20th reunion party, and my dad’s at a ball game with his buddies,” she said timidly. “You excited about the dance?” she asked.
“Yah, I guess,” I admitted sheepishly. “You?” I asked her, assisting her into the passenger’s side of the Porsche.
“Yah, a bit. It’s nice to go to a dance without ‘jerk face’,” she said wrinkling her nose. I started the ignition. We both knew who ‘jerk face’ was. “Just think of it,” she said in consideration, “Brett and I have gone to every dance together since the 7th grade!”
Incredible. Who would have thought? I thought sarcastically. We were at the School. I stepped out of the car and helped Angela out too. Together we walked to the gym.
Once in the gym, we discovered that Brett had not 3, but 4 girls on his arms. McKenna Parkers, Sara Gilbertson, Jocelyn Meyer and- it couldn’t be.
There was no way that the girl in the red dress and high-heels and curled short blonde hair and manicured red nails could ever be Chloe Martin.
She had finally cracked. She had always nursed a sweet spot for Brett Anderson. But hanging on his arms? And a dress?
Chloe was a tomboy. She started food fights and played tackle football with the football players, and could move one of their ‘sledges’ by herself. She scorned girly girls and worshipped the sweaty basketball players and watched R rated movies on a daily basis.
I saw Brett whisper in her ear “You’re my favorite”. Chloe, to my tremendous surprise, giggled, blushed, and kissed Brett really hard, on the lips. Sara, Jocelyn, and McKenna were looking daggers at Chloe, like she actually cared.
“Are you gonna dance?” asked Angela, following my gaze. “Oh. Jerk face has a new girl. You're not hitting on her are you?" she gazed at me, daring me to say yes and loose her forever.
"NO, Chl- OH, I mean Angela," I said quickly.
"But who cares about her? C’mon, let’s dance, Matt! Yah! This is my favorite song!” The band was playing a rock’n’roll song with a fast beat. She took my hand and lead me out into the dance floor. Everyone began whispering excitedly, but it couldn’t be heard over the band.
We danced for hours on end. Finally, the last song of the Dance came around.
“This is for all you lovers out there,” said the lead singer and guitarist. They started playing a slow song. It was really, I hate to say it, romantic. Angela looked at me, and put her arms around my neck. I reached out to hold her waist. We danced, just like that. And then she closed her eyes, and began leaning in. I suspected what was coming, and did the same. We kissed, and fell in a never-breaking, head-over-heels bond of Love.
The End
The show P.D.A. in the cafeteria every other day and they hold hands too. I can’t quite see what she sees in him. He bullies little kids, cusses at teachers…
“Matt…. Matt? Snap out of it, man!” I was being jostled out of my fantasy. My good friend Chloe was shaking me. Again.
“What? Oh, Chloe, it’s you,” I said sheepishly. I had been dreaming about her again. Angela Michaels .Chloe knew. Chloe always knew.
“You did it. Again. Matt. How many times have tried to get through to you? There are other girls out there, ones who are actually available, maybe a little lower on the social scale. And don’t have humongous boyfriends. And so many exes...” She said, staring at the boys sitting at a table apart from the popular people’s table, glaring at Brett. Angela seemed to have dated every guy in the school by now.
“Anyway, Brett Anderson is pretty cute, but so mean. I see what she sees but I also see what you see, Matt, and don’t see how she misses it,” says Chloe reproachfully.
I chewed my peanut butter and banana sandwich in silence for the rest of Lunch. Once lunch was over, it was time for chemistry. And who should my lab partner be? None other than Angela Michaels.
Angela walks gracefully past, her pace smooth, her silky chocolate brown hair bouncing off her shoulders. Her straight pearly-white teeth glint in the light and her soft pink lips curl into a smile. Her indigo-aquamarine eyes are looking my way. I inhale the winter mint scent she has.
She looks like an Angel being kissed by the dawn in her lab coat and safety goggles. Her lips move, and they curl into a frown.
She reaches her hands out in the lab gloves, and places her hands on my arms. “Matt…. Matt Denison! We need to get working!” her melodic voice cries.
I had been dreaming again, and worse, it hadn’t been Chloe to jerk me out of fantasy. It had been, to my humiliation, Angela Michaels.
It got a lot worse. Chloe told Angela about everything. I could feel her bluebell eyes gaze fixedly at me at lunch, and her giggly friends in Earth science. And of course, I had to brave Brett Anderson’s glare, and his posse cracking their knuckles in my direction.
And to make it worse, the Enchantment under the Sea Dance was coming up, and Chloe was expecting me to ask out Angela Michaels . She told me if I really loved her, I wouldn’t be afraid of Brett and his posse. But I couldn’t help but be afraid of him, and his posse.
The wildest new gossip was that Angela had caught Brett bullying little kids out of their lunch money, and had seen him flirting with Sara Gilbertson. Angela and Brett were in a big fight. Angela was accusing him of kissing Jocelyn Meyer, and holding hands with Sara again. We all knew that Brett bullied and kissed Jocelyn and Sara every time he got the chance.
And then it happened. The night before the dance. Angela Michaels broke up with Brett Anderson. Brett was mad at first, but with in ten minutes was chasing down McKenna Parkers.
This Meant That…..
Angela Michaels was finally available
I approached Angela the next day with my legs shaking, and my voice trembling.
“Angela , w-would y-you like to go to the d-dance with me?” I asked her. Her eyes stared at me quizzically. She smiled.
“That would be… lovely,” she said happily. I let out a sigh of relief. “Pick me up around eight o’clock, okay?” she walked away to talk to her friends.
I had done it! I had finally asked out…..
Angela Michaels .
I went home in high spirits. I had asked out Angela Michaels, and she had said yes! It was as if all of my wild, crazy love dreams and fantasies with Angela Michaels were finally coming true.
8 o’clock tonight came all too quickly. I put on my navy blue blazer with a aquamarine tie, with none of the buttons done.
I was borrowing my mom’s green Porsche to take Angela to the Dance. I had a bouquet of roses for her, along with a box of French chocolates. I drove to Angela’s house in a bad case of stomach butterflies.
I walked up to her front door, and rang the door bell. Hurried footsteps sounded from inside. Soon, Angela opened the door. Her beauty was astounding. She had light blue eye shadow on, and mascara with eyeliner. Her hair had been curled, and she wore a diamond barrette in her hair. She had seashell earrings, and a starfish necklace.
She had a shiny sheen of pink lip gloss, and pink blush. Her dress was a light sea blue-green, with a pink sash placed above her diaphragm. It had a starfish embroidered above the sash. The dress fell just below the knees. She had on pink high-heels to match her sash, and a matching pink purse. I swiftly handed her the chocolates and roses.
“Here. For you,” I said nervously. She smiled happily at the roses and looked hungrily at the chocolates, and then looked at me, with a bit of each stare to complete it.
“Awe, you’re so sweet! WHOA! Nice car!” she had seen my mom’s Porsche. “I always wanted a green Porsche!” I smiled weakly. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get to the dance!” She rushed inside to put away the chocolates and roses. Her high-heels clicked on the floor. She shut the door, and looped her arm around my elbow. My heart skipped at her touch.
“Soooooo….. Where are your parents?” I asked, at an attempt to make a conversation.
“My mom is at her friend’s 20th reunion party, and my dad’s at a ball game with his buddies,” she said timidly. “You excited about the dance?” she asked.
“Yah, I guess,” I admitted sheepishly. “You?” I asked her, assisting her into the passenger’s side of the Porsche.
“Yah, a bit. It’s nice to go to a dance without ‘jerk face’,” she said wrinkling her nose. I started the ignition. We both knew who ‘jerk face’ was. “Just think of it,” she said in consideration, “Brett and I have gone to every dance together since the 7th grade!”
Incredible. Who would have thought? I thought sarcastically. We were at the School. I stepped out of the car and helped Angela out too. Together we walked to the gym.
Once in the gym, we discovered that Brett had not 3, but 4 girls on his arms. McKenna Parkers, Sara Gilbertson, Jocelyn Meyer and- it couldn’t be.
There was no way that the girl in the red dress and high-heels and curled short blonde hair and manicured red nails could ever be Chloe Martin.
She had finally cracked. She had always nursed a sweet spot for Brett Anderson. But hanging on his arms? And a dress?
Chloe was a tomboy. She started food fights and played tackle football with the football players, and could move one of their ‘sledges’ by herself. She scorned girly girls and worshipped the sweaty basketball players and watched R rated movies on a daily basis.
I saw Brett whisper in her ear “You’re my favorite”. Chloe, to my tremendous surprise, giggled, blushed, and kissed Brett really hard, on the lips. Sara, Jocelyn, and McKenna were looking daggers at Chloe, like she actually cared.
“Are you gonna dance?” asked Angela, following my gaze. “Oh. Jerk face has a new girl. You're not hitting on her are you?" she gazed at me, daring me to say yes and loose her forever.
"NO, Chl- OH, I mean Angela," I said quickly.
"But who cares about her? C’mon, let’s dance, Matt! Yah! This is my favorite song!” The band was playing a rock’n’roll song with a fast beat. She took my hand and lead me out into the dance floor. Everyone began whispering excitedly, but it couldn’t be heard over the band.
We danced for hours on end. Finally, the last song of the Dance came around.
“This is for all you lovers out there,” said the lead singer and guitarist. They started playing a slow song. It was really, I hate to say it, romantic. Angela looked at me, and put her arms around my neck. I reached out to hold her waist. We danced, just like that. And then she closed her eyes, and began leaning in. I suspected what was coming, and did the same. We kissed, and fell in a never-breaking, head-over-heels bond of Love.
The End
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)