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Wednesday, February 12, 2014

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

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