All right! Chapter 2! IMPORTANT NOTICE AT BOTTOM
Gavlyn woke up early the next morning, earlier than usual, her eyes puffy and red from crying. The sun had already risen over the tops of the tall trees, the small streams of sunlight catching the droplets of dew that glistened on the leaves and grass, making it seem like thousands of diamonds had dropped onto the world. A fresh breeze blew in through the open window, and Gavlyn found it somewhat refreshing. It helped soothe her small body and clear her troubled mind.
From her attic window, she could see the entire town. She hadn't noticed before, being too surly to care about anything, but the town looked strangely antique, like it had been frozen in time. The nearby nineteenth century Victorian houses were complete with large orchards and gardens, each overflowing with various fruits, vegetables, and flowers of every color and size. Gavlyn stared in awe at the simplicity of the tiny town: its dirt roads, the small little red schoolhouse, the old and faded buildings, and the immaculate while church with its large gilded bell ringing for mass. It was such a clear day that she could see the tops of the skyscrapers in the distant city, their tips covered by the clouds and smog.
Her thoughts drifted back to the orphanage she now lived in. People were beginning to stir downstairs; she could hear the slamming of doors and the racing of children to get to the bathrooms. Gavlyn could almost smell the bacon that was cooking on the stoves, and it made her mouth water. Not wanting to attract much attention from the other orphans, she decided to climb down the tree and go through the back door. Smoothing out her clothes, she grabbed the top branch and placed her feet on the two lower ones. She jumped back through the window, her hands and feet pulsing in pain. They were still tender from her climb up yesterday, and would need some time to heal. The staircase was her last option.
She was spotted before she could make it halfway down the stairs. Two of the older children had seen her coming down the stairway leading to the second floor, and screamed in surprise. The other children came out of the rooms, wanting to see what was the commotion. They all stared at the strange new child, especially Charlotte, who loved to know everything that was going on in the orphanage.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Why are you so pale?" another child asked.
"Why is your hair so short?" an older girl asked.
"Are you a boy, or a girl?" an older boy asked.
So many questions, and Gavlyn didn't want to answer them. But, for the sake of being polite, she answered all their questions in one simple statement. "The doctors are still trying to figure out who and what I am, because, you see, I was frozen in time long ago and was recently woken up. That's why I look like this. Is that a problem for you?"
The children gasped in awe. Gavlyn wanted to laugh at their foolishness, but she kept her face like stone as she passed through the crowd of gullible children. She found it hard to believe that the orphans three times her age believed that story. But, it didn't bother her. The less they knew about her, the better.
As she walked down the stairs, Gavlyn got a good look at what the orphanage actually looked like. The second and third floors were rooms, four on each floor. Two obviously belonged to Lavinia and Charlotte, one on the second floor and the other on the third. The rest of the rooms were divided amongst the orphans, four to each room. Others were either bathrooms or cabinets.
Gavlyn felt eyes on the back of her neck. She turned around, and found twenty pairs of eyes staring at her. She grimaced and fought the sudden urge to spin around and shout boo. They followed her to the nearest bathroom, and waited outside until she had finished her business. They followed her downstairs, keeping a safe distance away from her, and into the kitchen.
Lavinia stood at the stove cooking bacon while the teakettle shrieked an ugly whistling noise. She hurriedly turned off the kettle and rushed to the toaster to pull the toast out before it burned. She turned around and made a nasty face at Gavlyn.
"Well, stop gawking and help me," she snapped. "Come finish the bacon while I start making tea."
Gavlyn did what she was told, and began cooking the bacon. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the pan to flip the bacon onto a paper towel to dry, and often had to try many times before she succeeded.
"Damn it!" she screamed as her right arm was hit by flying bits of hot grease. She glared at the sizzling pan, and nursed her burnt arm.
"What did you say?" Lavinia shrieked.
"The grease burned me!" she shouted back. "I don't even know how to cook bacon." She pointed at the staring orphans. "They're old enough, and tall enough, to cook. Why don't you make them cook it?"
Lavinia slapped Gavlyn across the mouth. "Go to your room and stay there until I allow you to come out!" She grabbed the five year old by her burned arm. "Go on! OUT!"
"What if I have to pee?"
Lavinia shoved a cooking pot in her arms. "You can use this for now. I can always buy a new one."
Gavlyn cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. She trudged upstairs dragging the pot behind her, the eyes of the other orphans watching her. "BOO!" she shouted, twirling around. To her dismay, it didn't work.
In her room, Gavlyn could hear the sounds of the town waking up. The bronze bell of the school rang, calling the children to school, and was matched by the clear ringing of the gilded church bell. She could hear a cock crowing in the next yard, and a woman's high-pitched screams as she shooed it away from her bean plants.
She remembered, while living in her house, the neighborhood rooster Polly. She and the other children on her street used to feed it watermelon seeds on hot summer days. It was old and wasn't good for much except waking people up in the morning, but because the children loved him so much, the owners kept it. Gavlyn wondered if Polly was still around and was being taken care of by the other children. She wondered if they missed her as much as she missed them.
"Go away, Pete!" Lavinia shouted. "We have nothing for you here!"
Gavlyn looked down to the backdoor. A grizzled old man was standing at the porch; a crooked grin on his face while Lavinia waved a spatula at him.
"I know ye got somethin' in there, Lavi!' he cackled. "I can smell the bacon 'n eggs from 'ere!"
"None of this is for you, you bat!" She waved the spatula in his face. "I've got twenty hungry mouths to feed and you're not one of them!"
"C'mon then! Jest an apple fer ole Pete. Whatcha say?"
"NO!" She slammed the door in his face.
"Why all the-"he muttered. "Jest wanted an apple."
Gavlyn leaned out the window to hear more from Pete. She caught phrases like "ole bat" and various profanities. She leaned out more, hoping to catch something interesting. She held onto the oak branch for support, and leaned out as far as she can. He stood underneath the tall tree and crossed his arms, glaring at the back door. "Thinks she's so big," he said. "Remember when..."
Gavlyn leaned out further. Too far, and lost her grip on the branch and tumbled out the window. She tried not to scream out as she fell. To die would be better than staying at the orphanage. At least in death she could be with the parents. When no crash came, she opened her eyes.
"Lordy me! It be rainin' orphans!" Pete set Gavlyn down on her feet. "Whatcha be doin' fallin' outta the attic window?"
"That's my room. And I didn't mean to fall. You were sayin' somethin' neat and I wanted to hear."
"Ye heard all that?" he gasped.
Gavlyn nodded her head. "Somethin' about how my aunt was a total bi-" Pete covered her mouth with his gnarled hand.
"None o' that, Missy," he chastised. "Best be goin' back to yer room so ye don't get inta anymore trouble."
"Why do you talk funny?"
"Yer a rude one, ain't ya?" he snarled. "This is my dialect. A dialect is...well, a dialect is...yer to young to understand."
"Is it why you talk funny?"
Pete tweaked his nose. "I suppose so. Now, get back to that attic room of yours."
Gavlyn grabbed a handful of his gray jacket. "I like you. Wanna adopt me?"
Pete made a wheezing noise. "Adopt ye? Lass, I can barely take care of myself."
She cursed under her breath. She wanted to be out of the orphanage, and she didn't care with whom. "So what do you do when you can't get food from my prickly aunt?"
"Head on over ta the local bar fer a couple o' rounds."
"Can I tag along?"
Pete cocked an eyebrow. "Shouldn't ye stay here with yer Auntie?"
"I hate my aunt. Take me with you."
Pete tweaked his nose. "Right. Keep up and don't stray." He began walking toward the town at a fast pace. Determined to keep up, Gavlyn kept his pace, jogging along side him. Pete was amazed that a five year old was determined to keep up with a frazzled old man like him, and he slowed down every once in the while.
Gavlyn took these slower times to admire the area she was in. From her attic window, the outlying orchards and groves looked small. From the beat up dirt path, however, she understood how small she really was. The large stone walls behind the aging Victorian houses were encrusted with thick, emerald green ivy and large royal purple morning glories. Peeking out from the over the walls were lush fruit trees ripe for picking. She could see ruby red apples and bright oranges ready to be eaten and overflowing with delicious juice. Gavlyn's mouth watered. Because she had been banned from the breakfast table, she was prepared to eat anything.
"Don't even bother asking for anything," Pete said, eying her watering mouth. "That's Old Man Jenkins' house. And he don't give to nobody."
Despite his advice, Gavlyn ran up to the doorstep. "Does he have a Mrs. Jenkins? Pete nodded. "Then there's no problem." She knocked on the door a few times and an elderly woman answered the door.
She was a full-bodied woman with steel gray hair and crows feet around her eyes from smiling too much. She looked down at Gavlyn with her shining brown eyes. "Can I help you little girl?"
Gavlyn smiled brightly, showing a full mouth of baby teeth. "Hi there, Gramma," she greeted affectionately. "I was wondering if I could have an apple from the tree. They look yummy!"
Mrs. Jenkins smiled warmly. "What a cute little girl you are," she cooed. "Where are your parents?"
"I'm staying with my Uncle Pete!" She pointed to Pete, who stood a distance away. "He's my Mommy's uncle."
"Well then I'm sure you haven't had a proper breakfast." She extended her hand. "I was about to make some waffles. Would you like some?"
Gavlyn grinned. "Thanks a lot, Gramma!" She took the woman's hand and followed her inside. She shot Pete a sly grin before the door closed on her.
The house was, unlike the orphanage, a warm and friendly place. There were photos of the Jenkins family everywhere, along with beautiful paintings of serene landscapes. A soft oriental runner covered the corridor leading to the kitchen. The kitchen was full of morning summer light that glinted off the pots and pans hung over the sky blue tiled counter top. A rustic wooden table sat in the corner nest to a sliding glass door that led to the orchard. A small stained glass hummingbird hung from the lock, reflecting the vibrant colors onto the table.
"I like that," Gavlyn said, pointing at the hummingbird.
"My grandson Timmy painted that for me," Gramma Jenkins said, pulling out a hair for Gavlyn to sit on. "He's about your age, I think. Would you like some apple juice?"
"Yes please!" Gavlyn said, sitting down. "You've got a nice kitchen, Gramma."
She smiled at Gavlyn as she poured the mix into the waffle iron. "My grandfather built this house for his mother after his father died. He built her everything her heart desired, and more. I grew up in this house, my children grew up in this house, and I will most likely die in this house."
"It's so...warm." She looked around the kitchen. "It's so nice in here. Mommy, Daddy and I would eat breakfast in the kitchen too. Daddy would tell me jokes while Mommy brushed my hair and tied a little blue ribbon in it. I would have ham and eggs every morning, with a glass of milk." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I loved them."
Gramma Jenkins looks up from the waffle iron. "Are you alright?"
"I lied to you Gramma. I'm not visiting, and Pete isn't my uncle. I'm an orphan. My parents are dead. But I'm living with my Aunt Lavinia in the orphanage."
"Then shouldn't you be with her?"
"She doesn't like me, Gramma. I don't want to be with her. She didn't let me eat today because I said a bad word. But it wasn't on purpose. I burned myself on the bacon 'cause she was making me cook it."
"But you're only five."
Gavlyn got up and grabbed Gramma Jenkins' hand, fat tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "Adopt me, Gramma! Please! I'm not a bad girl, honest I not! Please Gramma!"
Gramma Jenkins got down on her knees and wiped the tears from Gavlyn's cheek. "I would love to, Darling. But I'm past my child-rearing days. I've raised three children and helped raise my grandchildren. Besides, you have you're aunt. She'll take care of you better than I can." She stroked her copper hair. "Come on now, no more tears. Let's have some waffles."
"You still like me?" Gavlyn hiccupped.
"Of course, Darling. But I would like you more if you told me your name."
"I'm Gavlyn."
"Well, Gavlyn, do you like whipped cream on your waffles?"
"You'd still give me food? Even if I lied?"
"I'd never let a young child go hungry."
Gavlyn ran out of Gramma Jenkins' house with a full belly and a smile on her face. "Bye Gramma! I'll come back soon!" She ran down the wooden steps towards Pete, who had been waiting for her. "Hiya Pete!" she called. "Wait long?"
"Smart ass," he muttered. "Didja git the apple ya wanted?"
"Here." She tossed a juicy red apple at him. "I don't need one. I had waffles!" She cocked her head to one side. "Why are you still here?"
"'Figgerd ya could git me some grub, so I waited." He bit into the apple.
"So, are we going to the town?"
He didn't answered, but started walking down the dirt path. He walked slowly so Gavlyn was able to walk beside him. It gave her the chance to digest the many waffles she had eaten and not overwork her small body. She walked though more Victorian houses with orchards and white picket fences, with tall fruit trees and thousands of beautiful flowers.
Soon the houses ended and, just beyond a small river with a worn wooden bridge, was the tiny town of Catchburry.
That took me a while. I have an important message. Since took off Final Fantasy VII does Cinderella (another story of mine) please go to to view the story. Since also doesn't allow announcements to be posted, I'm posting it on my other stories. ARIGATO!
