FIFTIETH Post

It feels like we're always reaching milestones together - this week reaches the FIFTIETH post! It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in my little New York apartment, trying to figure out how to start a blog. While I certainly do not feel like a "pro-blogger," writing up and preparing the Weekly Read remains to be one of my favorite things to do.

To celebrate, I'm going to pass on a tradition that my friends and I started a little over a year ago. About once or twice a week, we would pass on to each other in a mass email a "Moment of Ridiculousness," any sort of funny, entertaining or witty tid-bit that crossed our path. For your first moment of ridiculousness, I am pleased to present to you one of my favorite youtube clips: "Simon's Cat." I've been following these videos from the start and I hope that you will find them to be as entertaining as I.


Now that you've (hopefully) had a good laugh, onto the show! Last week, we left Providence at the start of an awful mess! Ms. Grace was being blackmailed into a contract to save her school and chaos erupted on the edge of the forest. Let's see what next will happen in our favorite little town...

The Tale of the Tamrins

Chapter 12: The Waters of Greenbrook

The bangs, pops, and the zipping whistles behind Ms. Grace faded to mere whispers lost in the wind. The words of Mrs. Higley were among those left behind. Ms. Grace ran deep into Homewood Forest, her place of refuge as a child. Her thoughts ran blank. All she could hear was the crunches her boots made as they pounded the leaf blanketed forest floor. Her breaths were heavy and her side hurt something dreadful, but her head told her to continue forth. In her heart Ms. Grace knew that it was impossible to outrun her problems, but the feeling of the breeze against her burning face felt so good, so right. She knew that it was silly, but she did something she used to do when she was a child – she imagined that she had taken flight. She always wondered how freeing it would be to spread one’s wings to rise above. Surely no one would be able to stop her or ground her and their words, their gossip would mean nothing. The offending sounds would be mute to her in the clouds.

But even the best dreams must come to an end.

Ms. Grace’s run became a slow and drained walk. Exhausted, sweaty and warm she halted beside the Greenbrook stream. The waters trickled by the human who breathed heavily and held her hands tightly to her hips. Ms. Grace’s throat was achingly dry and those waters looked wonderfully inviting. She wished the water was deeper than her ankles so that she could take a dip, but because it was not, she instead settled by the water’s side. Ms. Grace pulled her skirt up above her knees so to kneel beside the water without dirtying anything more than her white bloomers.

The cool moist ground did well to bring down her body’s temperature. The wet soil slowly soaked into her clothes between the ground and her shins, but she did not mind. The cool ground was refreshing. Her chest was still rising and falling heavily and her heart was settling back to normalcy. Licking her dry lips Ms. Grace leaned forward and looked at her reflection in the steadily flowing waters. In the rippled reflection she blurrily saw that her cheeks were bright red. She wondered how much of their hues were owed to the running and how much to the slap. Her cheek did not hurt any more, but her face felt uncomfortably warm. Ms. Grace reached her hands into the cold waters. The back of her fingers rubbed against the smooth, dark pebbles that lay atop the golden silt. She held her hands in the water for a moment, letting the cold stream’s touch pass over her skin. She briefly remembered how she and her friends would collect those stones to imagine what magical properties they potentially possessed.

Ms. Grace smiled.

She pulled out from the stream her hands’ worth of water. She dunked her face into her hands, which were tingling from the cold. The waters took to cooling so quickly here. The water against her face rejuvenated her with its crisp bite. Ms. Grace repeated the cleansing two more times before wiping the excess droplets from her face with one hand. Sighing, she wiped the waters from her eyes.

At first she thought that her vision was blurred from the waters, but after blinking hard the sight she saw was confirmed. Not twenty feet away were the reverend’s cousins walking toward her. Ms. Grace knew that it was not proper for her to remain on the ground in such a state, but she was too exhausted to stand.

“Is all well, Ms. Grace?” Lin inquired as she and Howard arrived at the other side of the stream in front of Ms. Grace.

Unlooping his arm from Lin’s, Howard further asked from the woman still dripping slightly, “We heard our fireworks,” his question was halted when Lin’s elbow struck his side. The concern was that the technology developed by vampires to manipulate black powder into dazzling lights could be abused if it fell into the wrong hands. Even among friends like Ms. Grace, caution was necessary. “D-uh, I mean we heard the commotion, which we assumed came from the firesticks.” Howard sent a look for approval from Lin who smiled awkwardly before he continued: “Is everyone alright?”

Ms. Grace wiped the bridge of her round-ended nose from the remaining water and she scoffed angrily at herself. “I don’t know. Forgive me, I ran out of there so quickly for other reasons. I,” Ms. Grace pushed her palms against her eyes to keep herself from crying. She could not continue speaking.

It was clear that the child was deeply distressed. The matron and the patron exchanged a look and tacitly assigned each other a duty. Howard cleared his throat and gently said, “I will go check on how things are in town. Do not fret, Ms. Grace, I am certain that all is well.” He nodded his head to her respectfully then crossed the brook, stirring the golden silt to run downstream with the moderate flow. Ms. Grace’s eyes followed the glimmering sparkles in the tide while Howard disappeared at a hastened step behind her. Lin too crossed the brook so that she could more personally discern what troubled the woman who meant so much to their reverend. Like Ms. Grace, Lin pulled her long, simple skirt up to her knees to settle beside the stream’s bed. Ms. Grace seemed so distant. Her eyes were unfocused on the amber colored canopy of trees.

“Ms. Grace?” Lin sweetly called, placing a reassuring hand on the school teacher’s shoulder. The matron knew that Ms. Grace typically held the composure worthy of gentry, so it pained her to see the child so lost. Lin hoped that she would be able to gird the girl back to her lively and bright countenance that the reverend spoke of so frequently. “Is everything alright, my dear little school teacher?”

The nomenclature produced a smile and a chuckle from Ms. Grace. She looked to Lin’s black and blue colored eyes and said, “So, graduated from ‘dear little tree-climber’, have I?” Her query referenced the name by which Lin would address her when they first met years ago in this forest. “It’s just like I’m a child again, isn’t it?” she asked with a snuffle. “The reason for me being here certainly tastes the same.”

“Is it Mrs. Huff again?” Lin asked, she pushed a wet chunk of Ms. Grace’s hair out from her face.

“Surprisingly not,” Ms. Grace said, chuckling ironically. She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in her belt to wipe her face. As she padded the cloth around her eyes she elaborated to Lin: “Due to a financial disaster my school may be shut down because it is too expensive to maintain. I-I should have seen this coming. The schoolhouse has had an awful leak in its roof since bloody May and I have requested it to be fixed over and over again, but nothing. Now, I understand why.” Ms. Grace ran the red handkerchief along her moist hair line as she began to babble, “There’s no money to fix it. I mean, I figured that there were more pressing matters backing the papers up on the mayor’s desk so I never bothered to press the issue. Nor have I even mentioned the three leaks in my own house’s ceiling, I’ve dealt with that as best I can. I can’t afford to fix it right now.”

“That is something that should be addressed before winter arrives, Ms. Grace,” Lin advised, continuing to hold her hand atop Ms. Grace’s shoulder.

“No, my house will be fine,” Ms. Grace assured. “I’m by far more concerned about the school.” She sighed then proceeded to tell Lin all about the row between herself and Mrs. Higley.

The matron’s heart sank as she sat still and listened to the duration of Ms. Grace’s problem. To hear that a man other than the reverend asked for Ms. Grace’s hand was like a silver blade to her heart. This was the worst news. It was only the other day that the reverend announced to Lin and Howard that he had every intention to ask Ms. Grace to marry him on Friday night.

Lin never before more regretted the rules of her clan, which bound her and the others from interfering in the lives of mortals for better or for worst. The matron hated herself at this moment for signing the documentation that marked the intentions of the vampires to remain distanced for the sake of their time-bound friends. Lin looked away from Ms. Grace. She felt sick. She could not imagine the heartbreak of the reverend if Ms. Grace were to accept Mrs. Higley’s damned ultimatum. The vampire knew that aritoirs like her reverend were not too different from wizards in that they only fell once and that it lasted for life. If Ms. Grace became promised to another, surely the reverend would never again be the same.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ms. Grace quietly said. She too felt sick. “To marry Brian Higley is one of the last things I could ever wish, but losing my school is the first. Those children would have no one else to instruct them; aside from my friend Allison, Mr. Tamrin and Mrs. Elderbe I am the only one who has ever left this county. We are the only few who have seen that there is more to the world than Providence. Nuir Nosnobles is beautiful, but most of our town’s people will never see any of it beyond Homewood or Eastwick. The children will never be instructed of the lives that potentially could be there’s if I can’t instruct them. I guess I could use dirt and sticks to teach the children, but I think that’d get old after while.” The teacher attempted at a light nervous joke to make her-self feel a little better, but it was not working. She felt awful because what she really wanted more than anything was to be Mrs. Thane Tamrin, but that wish, that dream was fading. “What should I do?” she asked, fighting the urge to cry. “I feel like such a hypocrite; I just told a student, two of my students actually, that they should do whatever it takes to protect the whims of their heart and here I am contemplating selling my soul for the sake of only a piece of my heart.”

Lin swallowed hard and asked, “Where is the rest of your heart Ms. Grace?” she was hoping that the teacher would confess to loving Thane, for then Lin would have viable reason to intervene, but she needed to hear the words from Ms. Grace in order to have semi-official release from the contract.

But Ms. Grace was far too discrete to admit that the reverend’s name and face were gilded on her heart. “I don’t know,” she lied. She shook her head and crumbled.

Lin felt so useless. There was nothing she could do at this time. She would not even be able to tell Thane of her involvement in this conversation. Vampires were meant to exist only as shadows in the lives of humans. As it was, the reverend’s intimate knowledge of their underground world would be considered heinous to other clans outside of the Cärabadés, so aiding Ms. Grace now would be sacrilegious to their widely held creeds. She did not want to let this matter go without intervention, but for now that was the matron’s only option. Lin rubbed Ms. Grace’s shoulder and pulled her into a tight embrace. “The world is cruel sometimes, Ms. Grace,” Lin whispered as she held the child like she were her own daughter. “More often than not our hearts are forced to endure great pain that we must fight to strive through. But all that matters, Ms. Grace, what it really comes down to are those quiet moments at the end of the day when we are forced to be alone with our own devices. It is during that time when we must decide if the choices we have made allow us to look at ourselves shamelessly in the eye.” Lin gently pushed Ms. Grace to arms distance. She held onto the little-tree-climber-teacher that she had saved once before contrary to the rules of her breed, but with the approval of her clan. Lin knew that even as the matron of the clan a second favorable vote to help the same mortal was highly unlikely. Her position as matron did not carry much weight with matters regarding intervention with mortals; if she dared to act alone it would result with her exile from all vampire clans. An eternity alone was not something she could imagine enduring, but she knew that she could at least do her best to help Ms. Grace and Thane through the power of suggestion. With a guilt ridden sigh, Lin continued, “So, Ms. Grace, if you marry Mr. Higley instead of another under the circumstances could you, without tears or remorse, shame or hate, look at your beautiful eyes in the dark and lonely hours of the night?”

Ms. Grace felt small in the stare of Lin’s eyes. There was something so other worldly about this woman – she figured without a doubt in her heart that this woman was what she suspected, but that matter was not important at the moment. And even though Ms. Grace’s vision was mildly blurry, she could see that there was something else in Lin’s eyes: a message she knew forward and back. Ms. Grace was a little surprised to see it glowing so promptly from another, but there was nothing that could be done to appease its suggestive call. Ms. Grace swallowed her fears and pushed the reverend’s face from her heart. “No, I couldn’t and I think you know why,” Ms. Grace answered Lin’s inquiry truthfully. “But, for the sake of those children who will not have the chance to learn of anything other than Providence without me, I will feign a smile and a sparkle from my eye so long as I live. It’s only one lifetime after all.” Ms. Grace stood from the ground with stiff and unsteady legs.

Lin too stood in one smooth motion. Her senses told her that Ms. Grace was more than aware of the reverend’s feelings for her. Lin did not yet know that the pair admitted their attraction to one another.

Ms. Grace dusted off her dress. With her head held proudly, she said, “If dreams may become reality with the strength and will of our head and heart, why then may we not do the reverse and return the realities to dreams?” Ms. Grace inhaled quickly and shakily. She never wanted to forget the love in her reverend’s words, his touch and his kiss, but forcing the scene to become as a dream helped her to do the unthinkable. “I am going to marry Mr. Higley,” Ms. Grace came to her decision. The words tasted like poison on her tongue. “What other choice do I have?”

Lin wanted to scream the reverend’s name, but she knew that it would be for naught. She saw the resoluteness in Ms. Grace’s eyes, and the sorrow. Only Thane could convince her otherwise now.

“Come on, Ms. Grace, my little school teacher,” Lin said as she wrapped a supporting arm around Ms. Grace’s back. As Ms. Grace did the same to Lin, the two turned to walk back to Providence. In her hundreds of years on this earth she had never seen humans as selfless as the reverend and Ms. Grace. She knew that these two souls were undoubtedly made for each other, but for the time being there was nothing that she could do for either of them. It was another one of those dark sides of immortality.

~*~*~

Don't forget to come back next week to see what happens next!

Your humble author,
S. Faxon

Chapter 11: The Tale of the Tamrins

Three-thousand-and-two. That's how many page views my blog has enjoyed - 3,002!!!!!! 

Can't wait until we reach 5,000 together (as really, these views could not be done without you!)

On to Providence!

Chapter 11: Deals Made

Ms. Grace wasted only enough time to hear from Hewie that the mayor did not yet tell her directly allegedly because of his hope that this year’s festival would do restore balance to the books. However, being of sound mind and rational thought Ms. Grace knew better. The crowd of this year’s festival did bode the financial situation of Providence well, but there were no guarantees that much money would be returned to Providence’s educational program after taxes were collected by the local magistrate and then passed onto the crown of the country.

As furtively as she could Ms. Grace weaved this way and that through scores of bodies as she hunted down the mayor. She wanted to ensure that this rumor was the resolute truth ere she let her heart run completely mad with fright. However, her imagination ran quicker than her rationality or her feet. With every second she spent trying to find the mayor another situation of doom and gloom crossed her mind. The one thing she absolutely dreaded was losing the guidance she provided for the children. She loved teaching. She could not imagine a greater profession for herself. She would teach for free if only it meant her meals were provided. Her rationality stepped in at this point to remind Ms. Grace that there were many more expenditures to running the schoolhouse than simply her salary. She knew this better than most on account that she personally set the budget and requests for the supplies necessary for the students to learn, which were not cheap. The school had always been public because no one in town with children would be able to afford the supplies and nor would they be able or willing to pay enrollment fees. No one would attend her classes if there was a tuition fee, end of story. These people of Providence were primarily farmers who knew the importance of spending conservatively. As much as they all enjoyed their educations, school would not be at the top of the list of their priorities.

The smiling faces and the general cheery dispositions that came in waves all around Ms. Grace did little to abate the panic rising in her. Her surmounting tension was hardly ill caused. It was already almost three in the afternoon, she was supposed to meet Mr. Tamrin outside of town hall here in a couple of minutes, and she was running around like a chicken with a missing head. Our darling school teacher could not find the mayor. Ms. Grace asked nearly every citizen of Providence she encountered on her search about locating the mayor. She did not particularly enjoy being racquetted back and forth through town like a ball at court. Her thoughts alone were enough to drive her bonkers as she was left to her own devices in a sea of strange faces whirling around her. Ms. Grace became dizzy and overwhelmed. It was when her footing and her mind felt the weakest that she finally spotted her target.

Heading straight for the mayor Ms. Grace pushed her way through the crowd in a non-Providence manner. The man had his back to her, but she was certain by the way his stiff and bulky shape that this was irrevocably her man of interest. “Sir?” Ms. Grace tapped the gentleman’s thick shoulder that did not come up entirely too higher than her own.

The mayor of Providence turned to greet the woman behind him. At first his countenance was bright and welcoming, but the moment he saw the face of the person acquiring his attention the entire sunshine above seemed to dim. “Hello, Ms. Grace,” the mayor greeted as though they were at a funeral instead of a festival. “May I be of service to you, my lady?” the man asked. He did not sound at all eager or genuine with his statement and never once did he make direct eye contact with the teacher.

“This is a private matter, sir,” Ms. Grace informed. She sent a weary and suggestive look over the mayor’s shoulder to the group with whom he was formally engaged in conversation.

The mayor nearly dared to ask Ms. Grace if this conversation incontrovertibly had to take place at this moment, but he was certain from the guilt plaguing his heart that he at least owed this woman an exclusive moment of his time. The mayor turned to his company and asked to excuse himself. The gentleman removed his tall black hat to be courteous to Ms. Grace and yet he continued to avoid eye contact with her. “Ms. Grace, should we take this conversation some place quiet?”

Shaking her head while pinching one of her fingers nervously Ms. Grace disagreed. She did not want to wait for the truth any longer. “Outside will be fine, sir,” Ms. Grace leaned herself as politely close to the gentleman as possible as she answered. Even though she was comfortable enough to have this conversation in the open she still was not particularly keen to any new rumors fluctuating through town among all these strangers. “Mr. Mayor, I was just wondering if…if it’s true…Will there be funds enough for my classes to resume on Monday?”

The mayor’s timidity from earlier was caused by the stress from the grim news he held for the town’s third most adored citizen. “Ms. Grace,” he quietly started and already the woman knew that this conversation would not end well for her sake. “I am not sure how, er, or where you heard whatever it is you heard, but um, this is the present situation our Providence is facing.” The mayor cleared his throat then said, “Walk with me, Ms. Grace.” The gentleman did not want anyone to overhear the economic situation of his town. He was afraid of being accused of short-falling the demands of his responsibilities. The story earlier uttered to Ms. Grace in the hat shop was yet again whispered in her ear that day. However, this time the report was explained in a much more verbose and convoluted fashion. Ms. Grace doubted that she would have been able to discern anything that made sense from the mayor at all had she not previously been briefed. But what else could she have expected from a small town politician other than a jumble of nonsensical words to explain something almost simple?

“So you see, Ms. Grace,” the mayor sounded as though he was coming toward the end of his speech. The gentleman turned Ms. Grace to face him. It seemed quite serious. In her turn, Ms. Grace realized that they were at the eastern edge of town, right in front of the Higley Inn. The mayor omitted another heavy sigh as he finished; “It boils down to this: yes, your school will resume on Monday, but only until you run out of supplies. However, there is a chance that because of a very generous proposed donation from a prominent member of our Providence that your school will reopen at a fully functioning schedule just as before.”

The weight of the world was lifted from the shoulders of Ms. Grace. She inhaled and exhaled deeply to finalize the feeling of relief. “Thank God, for that,” she praised, and yet, the mayor’s words led her to believe that there was some sort of clause involved. “But, sir,” she asked, “What do you mean proposed? And, who on earth could have offered that so readily? I would very much like to thank them personally if they do decide to make the donation.”

The mayor wiped his brow for the umpteenth time during their walk. There was a clause involved, one that he was not too excited to share with Ms. Grace. His silence was making the woman nervous. The way his eyes never landed on her own only further unnerved the teacher. She thought of his eyes being operated on swivel units as he answered ambiguously, “The donor wanted to remain anonymous.”

Ms. Grace did not like secrets especially when they concerned her. She knew that she would be able to wriggle the information out of the mayor if she tried hard enough. Planting her knuckles to her hips to make herself more authoritative, the way she saw Mrs. Huff do a thousand times when she was a young ward, Ms. Grace asked, “Why ever would he want to remain anonymous? What benefit would silence have for him?”

“Ms. Grace,” a poignantly familiar woman’s voice called the attention of the school teacher. Ms. Grace turned around to see none other than the mother of the man named Brian Higley. The widow in black who stood before Ms. Grace bore absolutely no resemblance to her son, save for the cunning hue of her eyes. This straight faced woman’s pretentious personality was typically what kept most of Providence’s locals from recommending visitors to stay at the inn (most were sent to the reverend’s home, for he was always welcoming to borders). Now that Ms. Grace was face to face with Mrs. Higley she had no choice but to endure whatever condemning words that were sure to come. She was overall a highly unpleasant woman. “A donor would choose to remain anonymous because it is a terrible burden enough to be a citizen of this talkative town. Anonymity will keep the pests from knocking on my door to beg for donations like mongrels.” The harsh pointed features of Mrs. Higley shot a silent mordant look at the mayor. It was unequivocally evident that Mrs. Higley intended this conversation to be strictly between herself and Ms. Grace. The mayor muttered a couple of undistinguishable words, not at all trying to obviate the fact that in this situation, Mrs. Higley was in complete control. “Ms. Grace,” Mrs. Higley’s high-pitched voice, which had been trained to overly annunciate every syllable did not give the school teacher the chance to ask questions. “I am sure that my brother, the mayor, discussed with you the financial troubles he has brought to this town, the fool.” Mrs. Higley scoffed, curled her lip, and rolled her eyes. “As his eldest sister and as I am wealthy thanks to the labors of my late husband in our inn, the mayor came to me for aid. You see, Ms. Grace, I am a very wealthy woman. My inn is the only true beneficiary of this absurd festival because I do not spend lavishly to satisfy the whims of tenants. Even if this festival of folly did not occur, I still receive regular income from sailors going this way and that between here and Portland, so of course my stupid baby brother would come to me to save your program.” Ms. Grace was not sure if she wanted to accept so much as a brass piece from this woman, but she was not given the chance to deny or to argue anything. Mrs. Higley continued, “Ms. Grace, I will assume that you are an intelligent woman. You had better be intelligent considering the power you possess in teaching our town’s youth and considering how my son, for whatever reason, has deemed you to be the best candidate as his future bride.” Ms. Grace’s face went listless. “Do not look so stunned,” Mrs. Higley scorned. “It is no secret to me of your connection with him; that is the reason why my son stopped attending your class after all. I agree with the understanding the two of you reached in order to avoid a scandal.” Ms. Grace was flabbergasted by the lies Mr. Higley was feeding to his mother. No such agreement had been reached between herself and that man. As far as Ms. Grace had been aware, Mr. Higley dropped out of her class because of his embarrassment of not accomplishing his goal with her when the reverend walked in on them.

Mrs. Higley cleared her throat and said, “I would hardly agree with my son’s choice for a bride – a woman of profession and of your age is hardly the type suitable for him, but my son is stubborn, so what other choice do I have but to concede. You are hardly passable as beautiful, but at least you are educated; my grandchildren may not be the best looking of the future broods, but at least they will not be course heathens like all the brutes currently running amuck in this town.

“You know, for the life of me, I will never understand how Mrs. Huff was able to afford to send you away for an education.” This was hardly truth – Mrs. Huff did not put a penny towards her schooling and her travels. Mr. Tamrin’s cousins paid for everything out of the goodness of their hearts. But no one outside of those immediately connected knew of this or that Mr. Tamrin’s cousins were actually filthy rich vampires. “Surely Mrs. Huff’s husband must have had side investments, for it is daft to believe they made any sort of fortune operating a tea shop.” Again Mrs. Higley scoffed. “I doubt that you, Ms. Grace, know why none of the other men in Providence have ever shown any interest in courting you?” The hurt and disheveled look on the young woman’s face confirmed the acerbic widow’s assumption. Ms. Grace wanted to scream for her Mr. Tamrin to prove to this horrible woman otherwise. “You have no dowry. When your parents died in that fire their fortune went up in flames with them, leaving you with nothing. It’s a wonder that even Mrs. Huff took on a poor orphan at her age. I’ll bet my brother did award her some secret funding so she could provide. But it is clear that she turned you cosset with her over indulgences. Look at you. What man in this town could afford you?”

“You assume far too much, Mrs. Higley,” Ms. Grace bravely interjected, remembering in the back of her mind the way Allison spoke to Mrs. Huff. Her own heart could not handle much more berating from this woman. “I only own three dresses, an overcoat for winter one silver pocket watch, which was my father’s, and a quilt stuffed with down. Does that sound like the possessions of someone who is spoiled, Mrs. Higley?”’

Mrs. Higley did not tolerate lip from anyone, especially not from some orphan brat. Mrs. Higley’s hand cut across Ms. Grace’s cheek. The slap’s force had a resonating bite on Ms. Grace’s pinkening face.

She had never been slapped before.

“Dare you talk that way to me, you stupid girl,” Mrs. Higley shouted. The woman angrily slammed down her fists to her side as she huffily continued, “It is a charity that I am welcoming you to marry my son and it is a gift that I do not shut your school down this instant. But I have given it good consideration and your out-lash at me has convinced my idea. Ms. Grace, I will fund your school indefinitely once you marry my son on New Year’s day, for it is a long-held Higley tradition for the men to marry on that day.”

“And if I choose not to marry him – because in reality I have no intention of marrying your son! I never have and I never will.” Ms. Grace angrily corrected. She wanted nothing to do with the Higleys. They were far too vile for her tastes or tolerance and she had the wonderful reverend waiting for her right now. How dare this woman interrupt her happiness. “Out of the kindness of your heart, could you at least give the children of Providence a chance and provide to the end of the year, just to the end of the year?”

A scathing expression made itself known on Mrs. Higley’s face. “You do not listen, do you? You really are not as clever as this town acclaims. I said that I will fund your school once you marry my son and that is the only stipulation. Until then, Ms. Grace, your school stands on its own. If you don’t marry my son, you can kiss your school and those stupid little mongrels goodbye.”

Ms. Grace felt sick. She hated ultimatums. The teacher quickly refigured in her mind the amount of supplies she still had which would last for the remainder of October and maybe a good portion of November. December was absolutely out of the question. Maybe, just maybe the town could put together some sort of fund for her school, Ms. Grace thought. After a second more of thought she realized that taxes were already so heavy and with winter coming hardly anyone would be able to afford to be generous.

With a sigh, Ms. Grace’s dark eyes realigned with the intimidating and cocky gaze of Mrs. Higley.

The acrimonious of the two threw her hands down to her side as her short temper ignited. “Get your head out of the clouds, you stupid girl! It is not a difficult question that requires this much thought. Will you marry my son, yes or no?”

Whilst Ms. Grace and Mrs. Higley were having their highly civilized conversation, away in the southern fields where the most fantastic show was due to play after sunset, two boys had been meddling with the forbidden crates. Within these wooden boxes were long and thick decorative sticks believed to be imported from the east as they were every year for the festival. They were operated and provided by the reverend’s cousins who alone knew how to handle such dangerous instruments that produced beautiful eruptive shows of light. The boys who played with these crates knew that they were not supposed to be anywhere near this part of the field. The boys also knew that they were not supposed to be anywhere near these crates with flint in their pockets, but those rules were only made to be broken in their minds. They only stole one of the sticks from the crates, which they figured could be easily excused. They ran off into the forest hoping that the dun leaved trees of Eastwick would mute and hide their actions. And as would be expected from a nine-year-old and a twelve-year-old boy, trouble ensued.

Holding the thick stick between them, the elder of the two lit the fuse with the flint. The hiss of the rope startled the younger lad holding the stick.

The boy dropped it.

The boys began to panic as they frantically attempted to pick up the hissing thing. Both bent down to grab the stick at the same time, which only resulted with them bashing their foreheads together instead. The fuse continued to become shorter and shorter. As the boys cried out from their unintended head injuries, the fuse ran out.

The stick exploded.

A loud bang went off at the boy’s feet accompanied by a blinding flash of light. The boys went falling back on their rumps as the charge of the fireworks went rocketing through the forest instead of up into the sky. The charge left the protection of the trees and erupted right over the forbidden crates.

The moment the first firework in the woods exploded was when Mrs. Higley asked Ms. Grace to marry her son. The muffled sound was subconsciously dismissed in both their minds because of its faint pop in the far distance. But what was coming could not be so easily dismissed. The sparkles from the exploded fireworks landed on a dozen other fuses, igniting them all.

None of the villagers or her visitors heard the hissing fuses and absolutely none of them could have then perceived the slippery slope of events that next would come.

Ms. Grace’s mind and heart were racing as the stone-cold face of Mrs. Higley stared at her awaiting an answer. She knew that to say yes would be disastrous for her soul and for Mr. Tamrin’s, but to say no stole from the children of Providence the chance to better themselves. Ms. Grace parted her lips to ask for time to think things over, but again she was not given the chance. Her words were interrupted, but this time not by Mrs. Higley.

An enormous commotion erupted from the southern fields. All of the fireworks were shooting every which way. All of Providence was startled by the loud pops and snaps and whizzing flares of lights and sounds. All attention was turned in the direction of the racket, even Mrs. Higley’s. And as the widow instantly began to complain about the infernal disturbance, Ms. Grace seized her opportunity.

She ran.

~*~*~

What will Ms. Grace do? Will she marry into the rancorous Higley family to save her school or will she follow her heart and pursue the man of her dreams? Tune in next week to read and see!

Until then...

Your humble author,

S. Faxon 

Chapter 10: The Tale of the Tamrins

Hello dear readers, how does this post find you today? I hope that you are all well wherever your cozy (or covert if you're reading this at work) reading spot may be.

The past week has been exceptionally exciting on my side of the blog (as I certainly hope your's has been as well), but I can honestly say that it's nice to be at my escape (z blog) where I may catch a moment of peace and take a deep breath....ahhh, that's better. Life, even when we're enjoying every moment of its gifts, can take a lot out of us, so hopefully these posts are helping at least one of you (whomever you may be) to find a moment of escape as these posts are for me.

Chapter 10 of our tale is another one of those lengthy ones, you know the type - it's usually the chapter encountered at the end of a long night of reading where you're just looking and looking for a break in the chapter (like these for me ~*~*~) or for the next chapter heading to make your dog ear or to slip in your gas receipt book marker, but they simply do not come, so you keep reading until you realize, 'gee, I'm already half way done,' then you continue to read because you want to persevere with the characters until finally, you see the back cover of the book and it's 4am and you have to have the kids in the car to get them to school at 7am and there's a whole stack of meetings and of deadlines waiting on your desk, but you'll sit there at work, clinging to your cup of coffee, with the sweet victory of knowing that you stayed strong with your characters until the very end. That was possibly the longest sentence I've ever written, but it may have effectively portrayed the feeling. Luckily in this case, I can spare you at least one night of sleep-sacrifice by dividing this chapter here and now. So, without further adieu, here is Chapter 10 Part 2.

Chapter 10 Part 2: The Festival
It could easily be assumed that the festival would start at noon on the dot for the town of Providence, but that would be far too close to perfect for a place as wonderful as this. The official kick off for the party did not commence until almost precisely twenty-three minutes after noon. While the town and its visitors stood in wait for the opening ceremonies, on a bench taking part in community spying, Ms. Grace, Ms. Joyce, and Allison sat together quietly. They were waiting for Mrs. Callaghan to rejoin them before they left the street to enter Mrs. Elderbe’s home and shop. They watched their fellow members of town and the many other citizens of the country who joined them on this autumn day to celebrate the closing of yet another successful harvest. The children had, for the most part, been returned to their parents and now there was naught to do for these women but to wait for the party to start.

“Does any of this seem arbitrary to you?” Allison asked in her lost-in-deep-thought way.

“No,” the other two answered dryly, but it was J.J. who further elaborated though just as dryly, “But last year’s festival certainly was dull. Hardly anyone came.”

Nodding her head, Ms. Grace agreed, “That’s right. It rained the whole time. At least the weather is pretty fair today. By the looks of things we may have three or four times as many people here than last year.”

“I didn’t even know that this would be happening today. You know what I don’t understand; this party is allegedly only one day, but people stay here and keep partying until Sunday. Why don’t they just leave our sleepy little town in peace?” Allison wondered aloud, shifting so that she leaned dramatically heavily on Ms. Joyce’s side, squishing her into Ms. Grace. “But who cares! I’m back with my friends from my adventures.”

“What are you three loons doing?” Mrs. Callaghan asked as she returned to her friends. “Come on, everything’s all sorted out for my husband. Gosh, men; they can’t keep track of anything.”

The women adjourned to their picked position. Almost immediately following, the mayor whose duty it was to give the commencement speech returned from being mysteriously held back for a reason hardly any yet understood. Whilst the man of marked importance stood on a pedestal so that he was raised slightly above the heads of the considerable crowd, he looked nervous. Of course this was to be expected due to the pressure that came from speaking to hundreds of people – most of whom were relative strangers to Providence. Yet only a few (the mayor’s wife, the mayor’s sister, and the reverend) took extra note to the mayor’s difficulty to speak. Even Mrs. Huff and Mrs. Winford missed the derailment from the mayor’s usual calm. It was easy to be missed though for standing in a crowd with both one’s shoulders touching other shoulders on a rather warm fall day was intolerably distracting.

The four women tucked themselves away and above the crowd. They were fortunate enough to receive the benefits of locals. Their host was unfortunately too busy to join them because she was with the stand she and her husband erected temporarily on the street. Their haberdashery was usually one of the most successful carts during the festival, so the ladies more than understood the need for her absence. Even without her, Mrs. Elderbe’s friends were given full access to the second story of her home to watch the opening ceremony. The women watched from above the ever moving and enormous crowd that infiltrated their quiet little Providence.

“I really can’t believe how much this thing has grown since I left,” Allison commented in between the small bites she took from her nail.

“When was the last time you were here for the festival?” Ms. Grace asked. She was not at the window because she was playing with the hats stored in this room. The spectacular mood that her secret gave her was a high that she had never before known. Knowing that she would be meeting her love later in the afternoon to stroll the booths together as an honest-to-goodness couple made her giddy. Staying engaged in conversation was the only way to keep her from spilling her secret. “It’s been a long while, has it not?”

Allison nodded. “Yeah, it’s been two or three years I think, which is really unfortunate because you all know how much I love hyper-stereotypical small town societal events.” The women smiled at yet another one of Allison’s ultra-sarcastic responses. She was blunt and independent. Allison was the one person who ever successfully told Mrs. Huff that her opinion did not mean a thing. Her friends considered her brave and Providence to be quite boring without her wit and creativity. The girl left shortly after her confrontation of epic proportions with Mrs. Huff to further prove her point that she did not have to marry a man in Providence to find happiness through being a housewife. The very thought appalled her.

Mrs. Callaghan joined Ms. Grace by the hats and they began to exchange toppers with one another. The former found a particularly pretty white-laced topper, which somehow reminded her of something rather significant. “Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Callaghan yelped, turning sharply to Ms. Joyce. “J.J.! Shouldn’t we be getting you ready for your wedding?”

The hearts that had temporarily stopped from the start of Mrs. Callaghan’s tangent revelation resumed their normal beating patterns. Ms. Joyce stared playfully critically at Mrs. Callaghan who in turn looked dazedly confused.

“Wait, what?” Allison asked. She turned away from the window for she truly did not understand the entirety of the situation at hand. “You’re getting married?”

Partially skipping over Allison’s inquiry Ms. Grace started while adjusting a lovely dark blue large rimmed hat on her head, “Clearly, J.J., Hewie was not paying attention to our conversation last week and again earlier this morning.”

           

“I wasn’t here for either of those,” Allison protested. “You’re getting married?” she asked again, putting her hand on Ms. Joyce’s shoulder to keep her from evading an answer.

“YES!” Ms. Joyce exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. Her pure euphoric happiness glowed from her person like the sun. “Don’t worry, he’s not from Providence.” She quickly assured Allison before turning to correct Mrs. Callaghan; “My wedding was pushed back to Friday night, so that there will be less non-Providence people here. That way it will be a more private ceremony. And thanks for listening, Hewie.”

“Who are you marrying?” Allison asked. She and Ms. Joyce joined their friends by the standing three paned mirrors and the wonderfully large collection of hats. “I mean, I probably don’t know him, but I’d like to know what man thinks he’s good enough to take our Julia from us.”

Ms. Joyce proceeded to tell Allison all about the man she soon would wed with a smile an airy, love filled smile. Ms. Grace watched her, feeling happy for her friend, but Ms. Grace realized that she was more excited for herself in this moment. She could not wait until it would be her telling her friends about the dreams and hopes for the future that she would have with Mr. Tamrin.

“Well, he obviously makes you happy which is all that matters, I guess,” Allison said even though she considered Portland to be an extension of Providence and thus so not sufficiently far enough from home. However, because the man was foreign by his parents, his town of current residence was excused. “You’re not being pressured into this by that woman, are you?”

“Oh no,” Ms. Joyce again assured with a pink hat hanging down low over her face. “Mr. Vega is perfect, and he is a wizard, he’s amazing.”

Mrs. Callaghan interjected, “That reminds me!” She pointed at Ms. Grace who was tying a variety of lace ribbons around Allison’s wrists like bracelets. “I don’t know how it does, exactly, but anyway I heard a rumor this morning before I met you all at the bench. It’s about you, Gracie.”

For a second, Ms. Grace froze with terror. ‘There’s no way people are already talking about us,’ she tried to assure her rapidly beating heart. ‘No one could have seen us in the schoolhouse. No one was around when we made our plans for today. This must be about something else…which isn’t that comforting.’

“Wow, a rumor about Gracie? I never heard of such a thing,” Allison said smartly. “People here need to get more interesting lives of their own, so that they’ll stop talking about the people who have fun and spice in their lives.”

“What fun would that be?” Hewie asked before continuing as though not missing a beat, “This is a slightly more serious rumor. My husband told me that Mr. Burling, the town’s economist or financial advisor or whatever, told him that he and the mayor had a conversation last night about the distribution of our town’s taxes, which have been severely altered to pay for our town’s festival.” None of the women said anything, but all of their expressions were asking what on earth this could possibly have to do with Ms. Grace. Mrs. Callaghan stopped playing with the hats so that she could fully concentrate on delivering this gossip correctly. “Anyway, apparently we, our town, lost tons of money on last year’s festival because of the weather and everything else. Because of that Mr. Burling had to borrow funds from other programs and facilities in town to make up for last year and again to sponsor this year.” Mrs. Callaghan paused to ensure that she said everything correctly only to realize that she had missed something important. “Oh, I forgot to say that they did this year’s funding without fully rebalancing the budget for a good portion of the programs they borrowed against.”

For a moment Ms. Grace thought herself paranoid to even dare to think that the mayor would be ignorant enough to approve of borrowing against her school. The great feeling that she had fueling her was starting to fade rapidly.

“This is really serious, Ms. Grace,” Hewie warned, which only further embellished Ms. Grace’s paranoia. “I don’t know exactly how long it’s been but for sure since this morning, honey, the budget for your school is in the red. Even if this fair doubles the profits from last year that will only put the costs for the fair at even…but, Gracie, your school will, well, it will more than likely be shut down until further notice.”'

~*~*~

Be sure to tune in next week to see what fate awaits the schoolhouse and Ms. Grace!

Until then,

Your Humble Writer,

S. Faxon

Chapter 10: The Tale of the Tamrins

I would like to take a moment to give a MAJOR congratulations to my dad who just celebrated his first OFFICIAL day of Retirement. After two decades with the same employer, my dad hung up his hat and has turned the page of a new chapter in his life. I'm very proud and happy for him. Dad, thank you for all of the sacrifices you've made to keep my sisters and me happy over the years. Now, sit back, nap when you want to and tinker with those vintage motorcycles you make fly!

Yep, that's my dad. Photo Courtesy of my mom at last weekend's race.

And now back to our regular program.

Atop a dark stained nightstand, Bella Tuna is attempting to pry open a drawer while simultaneously supporting her weight on the same piece of wood. Her white gloved paw is reaching into the unknown as if expecting to find a treasure trove of her salmon flavored treats inside. She is such a delightful distraction. It's probably a good thing that she did not find me until after college otherwise I would have failed for sure! (Bella Tuna Todd is a cat for those of you who are tuning in for the first time. To read all about her, I suggest taking a look at a few chapters at the beginning of our journey through the weekly reads).

For the rest of you, back on to our road through Providence! Tally-ho!

Chapter 10: The Festival

The morning of the festival always brought to Providence a new hope for adventure. The event today was founded to celebrate not only a successful year of harvests, but to extend arms of community and of friendship to family and neighbors. It was a genesis of sorts for Providence. People from all over the county would come to town on the day of the Fall Festival to sell their end of the season goods, to visit with old friends, and of course to generally have a good time. The center of Providence transformed itself during the first few days of the week into a brightly decorated hamlet where dozens of carts and forms of entertainment had been erected. While the booths would be open, the party did not officially start until noon on Wednesday lasting until late in the night, but already at ten in the morning the little town was buzzing. Much like the bees in the reverend’s garden people zipped to and fro as the last minute deeds were duly performed. In every direction one looked someone somewhere was fussing over this or that. In one corner of town, men were finishing with the temporary erection of a beer garden where people would be able to sip the finest that barrels could carry. Sheep were baaing as several were dragged through town in preparation for the first competition that would test a shepherd and his dog’s skill at corralling the fluffy ewes. Merchants were finalizing the inventory of their goods, lest they be cheated one way or another. Only the chickens that usually clucked about town were locked away for the next few days so that they would not be trampled.

Many of the women in the town were simply frazzled by all of the items their husbands forgot. Ms. Elderbe was among these women who had to rescue their other half, so she was not able to help Ms. Grace with her duty of more-than-less babysitting a herd of children. However, the school teacher was not alone with her duty; Ms. Julia Joyce and Mrs. Laura Callaghan were there to help as well. The women watched over a pack of children, twenty-five, last the women counted, whilst the parents worked their stands. Most of these children were out of townies, so none of the women actually knew the names of the most of the children that they watched. The children of Providence knew better than to act up in front of their school teacher, but the foreign children possessed no regrets of acting out in front of her. Her shouts and scorns would be forgotten come Monday morning.

The three women presided over a small field behind, yet technically in front of the schoolhouse where the children were free to run about as they pleased. The only real rule was that the children stayed away from the large crates that were stationed at the edge of Eastwick forest, and thus far so good. The only children of her schoolhouse that Ms. Grace kept tight attention on were the Davis and the Thomas kids, but that went without saying.

“What is the point of us doing this?” Mrs. Callaghan asked, brushing her hair from her face as she tended to do frequently. “If they are just going to run around like little monsters anyway with or without the approval of their parents, who are we to stop them?”

Mrs. Callaghan’s question was missed by Ms. Grace who was busy pulling chairs out from the schoolhouse for the comfort of her comrades. The teacher had said very little over the last twenty-four hours. Her mind was replaying what happened in her schoolhouse yesterday over and over. The blissful secret that filled her was intoxicating. Not sharing it with her friends was even more intoxicating. A small, but pleased smile lined her lips. She could vividly feel the touch of his lips to hers. She knew that she would never tire of the same sensation and that she would be only too delighted if it happened over and over again.

Ms. Joyce instead answered Mrs. Callaghan and she was frankly appalled, “Don’t,” she airily scornfully commanded. “Weren’t you just saying how cute that infant was earlier and now you’re calling the children monsters?” Ms. Joyce accepted a seat from Ms. Grace.

As she shifted herself more comfortably on the stool typically reserved for the naughty children to sit on in the back of class, Ms. Grace asked without even having to have heard the first part of what was said, “Lord, Hewie, what’ll happen when you have your own babies?”

“Oh, gosh, I love babies! They are so cute!” Mrs. Callaghan excitedly proclaimed, but her expression became very serious as she further elaborated, “But I don’t want babies of my own. So I’ll just play with yours and J.J.’s.”

“Does Mr. Callaghan know about this non-baby ideal of yours, Hewie?” Ms. Grace asked. She was only paying partial attention, for though her ears were awaiting the response of Mrs. Callaghan, her eyes were locked on Mr. Davis and his cousin from the neighboring town. Her blurry eyesight never failed to find those boys when they were up to no good. The wonderful feeling that had preserved her since yesterday was at jeopardy of being displaced because of those scheming youngsters.

Mrs. Callaghan gave her answer to the topic, which caused Ms. Joyce to laugh at the response, but because of her distracted scanning eyes Ms. Grace’s excitement prevented her from hearing the remark. Regardless of the lurking of those Davis boys, some other unmistakable soul appeared on the horizon.

Providence like most of the supposed ‘civilized’ world at this time addressed each other with high marks of propriety. Hardly ever were first names used unless among boon friends or, although rarely, also between husband and wife. Addressing someone by their first name struck a level of ineptitude surmounting most other acts considered rude. However, in Providence there was but one soul for whom all rules and expectations were dropped along the wayside. This person was the only one whom everyone in Providence addressed by first name, for she simply broke the mode in every single way. And as it so happens, Ms. Grace, even with her blurred eyes, spotted her coming their way.

“Allison!” the school teacher shouted over the heads of the unaccountable amount of children.

The conversation between her other friends stopped abruptly. “What? Where?” both women quickly asked. An Allison sighting seemed too good to be true.

Yet indeed the sweet smiling pointed face of Allison came strolling casually toward them. A lovely mess of blond, spring curled hair that stood every which way and her eccentric outfit confirmed that this person could be no other soul than Allison. The bouncing blond curls were what clued the blurry eyed Ms. Grace that this was their old friend, without having the luxury of seeing the details of her face.

The three women by the schoolhouse ran forward and tackled their friend who had not been around this sleepy old town for ages. The group hug enveloped the girl whose hands were initially buried deep in the pockets of the puffy ruffled skirt. It was obvious that Allison had messily sewn together mismatching patches into her skirt and that she was more than proud of what she personally crafted. Once her friends rushed her, Allison threw out her arms to embrace her girls. “Hello, my loves!” she greeted.

The women held each other a second before the levy of questions burst.

“How’ve you been?!”

“What new lands have you seen?”

“Did you really just walk out of the woods?”

J.J., Gracie then Hewie asked respectively as they all were riddled with joy from their first meeting in so long. The four had been inseparable when they were children. Prior to husbands and the wishes to be married and the controversies that came along with the mess of marriages, Allison, Gracie, J.J., Hewie and occasionally Mrs. Elderbe, roamed the town and Homewood Forest like sisters. They were the very best of friends and that was something even a force as great as time could not unwind.

“Julia,” Allison said as she wiped her eyes, “Why are you so white? Summer just ended, for goodness sake. I mean really, girly, get out in the sun sometime.”

The women all laughed as jokes from the olden days resurfaced.

“I know!” Julia replied. “No matter what I do, I’m doomed to be pale. But look at you! You’re still orange!”

“I am not!” Allison replied defensively, but her clear tanned skin did have a subtle hint of orange.

Laughing, Ms. Grace asked mock scornfully, “Are you still addicted to carrots? Lord, I’ll bet you’ve got a batch there in your bag.”

“I am not and I do not!” Allison responded, but she then pulled her bag up to her core and clutched it as though it were precious. “But I do love carrots, so,” she responded, much like a child, yet in a snap she stood erect and re-answered most seriously. “No, no. I’ve not touched carrots…in a couple of hours.”

The women began to laugh uncontrollably like they always did when they were together. Their jesting antics were unnoticed by the children and their laughter became lost in the joy-filled screams of the children. However, Mr. Higley who emerged from his mother’s inn this morning watched from afar. Even after his missed chance with Ms. Grace that night at the schoolhouse, he still believed that she was the one. He did not care what his mother thought about her – he wanted to call her his own.

~*~*~

Oh no! Not, the man named Brian Higley?! What's he doing back in the mix? Well, you'll have to tune in next time to determine the extent of that dastardly fiend's plan!

Until then,

Your humble author,

S. Faxon