Rick stood there, staring at the unknown girl that lay in his front
hallway. Evie, on the other hand, screamed, and rushed to help the girl.
Alex sat down wondering what would happen to their trip.
"Rick, could you help me take her to the guest bedroom?" Evie asked, dabbing the girl's burning forehead with a teat towel.
He shook himself out of his stupor and gently picked the girl up in his arms and followed Evie to the bedroom.
His wife, ever prepared, had placed all her medicinal needs in the room with her, along with a pair of fresh clothes.
"Thank you, sweetie, I have work to do…" Evie said, looking at him, then at the clothes.
Rick understood completely, and left to see what Alex was up to, and what was in that leather envelope.
*****
1 Alex slumped down in a chair waiting for word on what would happen about his trip. He had been waiting for this ever since….ever. This would be his first time travelling to a dig HE would be included in. He could be able to dig up his own artifacts, and could be able to keep them or give them to a museum. Alex was so excited and hyped up he could barely contain himself. Then, that girl came and landed on the carpet. Why not just ship her over to a hospital and leave. The train was leaving tomorrow, and they were just going to stop over at Uncle John's house, see how he was doing, and whether or not the house was decimated into a dump of bottles and knickers of unknown owners. Alex looked up at his dad walking down that stairs with a look of concentration. He too sat down in an opposite chair and looked at Alex.
"Alex, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no."
"But DAD!"
Rick held up his hand and Alex quieted.
"Yes, I know you have been expecting this for a while, but your mother and I have to talk this over."
Alex opened his mouth in response, but closed it. He knew better than to start a quarreling match with his father, who was just as stubborn as he was.
And the more he behaved, the larger chance he had of going.
*****
Evie looked over her 'patient'. She had changed her out of the soaked, disintegrated clothed, and put on a pair of old, warm flannel pajamas Alex had when he was 13. The girl had a raging fever, and a damp cloth was smoothed over her forehead. Evie was sitting in a chair next to her, reading a book and checking the girl's temperature every now and again.
*****
Rick grabbed the envelope by his side and cracked it open, breaking the wax on the seams. Inside was a stack of papers and on the top was a hand- written letter. It said:
Dear Mr. O'Connell,
I hope that this letter never is given to you as it is only a last resort, but if fate has not smiled upon me, I hope you understand.
I, Sheila Elizabeth Monroe, daughter of the late Winston Monroe, know that you were very close to my father. My mother died in childbirth when I was 7 and he raised me in the best form he could being a pilot in the first great war. I grew up and had a family of my own, which I took care of very well, I hope. Devastatingly, my husband died in the second great war in a plane crash, as my father did. At this time I seriously thought about will's, and who would take care of my only daughter, Catherine. I do not have any close family or friends that would accept my daughter, either out of their travel habits or that they have too many children to accept another. I contemplated what I was going to do, and the only thought I had was of you. My father told me many things about you later in his life, and you seemed like the only responsible adult I have known. In this folder are the papers and my will to allow my daughter to become your own. I hope you may accept her and take care of her as I did.
Signed,
Sheila Elizabeth Monroe age 40
Rick placed the letter over to one side. Sure enough there were papers that were completely legal and binding saying that in the event both parents of this girl died, she would be handed over to him and his family if he had one.
He fell back into his chair and sighed. This would be interesting to explain to Evie, and impossible for Alex.
"Alex?" he said.
His son looked up from flipping through the newspaper.
"Read this," he said, handing him the letter, "and try to not go insane on me."
*****
Alex' jaw dropped.
At least, that was what it looked like from Rick's point of view. He had read the letter, went through the will with a fine toothed comb, and his jaw dropped. Nothing else.
*****
Catherine stirred from her bed. Where was she? Her glasses had been taken off and placed on a nearby table. She slipped out of bed and looked at her new clothes. They were red plaid pajamas, and had an 'A' embroidered on the chest. She picked up her glasses and placed them over her nose. That was better. She could see now. And she felt better, much better. No more headaches or upset stomach, fever, or aches all over, but she was ravenous. She padded out into the hall and scanned the area. It was obvious she was in the house she had collapsed in, but only by the pattern of the hall carpet she had last seen. Catherine walked down the stairs and smiled at the sun streaming in through the window in the parlor. The kitchen was right in front of her and she opened a cupboard. Inside was just dry goods like flour and sugar, nothing she could eat right now. Looking on the table there was a large bowl of apples.
"Yum!" she muttered to herself, picking up a nice red one and rubbing it on her sleeve to clean it off.
"Just what do you think you're doing?!" a voice shouted from behind her.
In her shock she dropped the apple on the table, and twisted around. The man behind her was taller than her and looked like he was going to explode.
Her mouth went dry, and her voice sank to a whisper.
"I, I, was j,just going eat the apple…I didn't mean to do any harm or anything, I just, just was hungry."
The man still looked angry, and frowned at her.
"Then pick it up and eat it! Don't leave it lying there!" he raised his voice.
"Yes, sir." She answered, though he had to at least as old as her, and picked up the fallen apple.
*****
Alex was furious, even through the three weeks that girl, Catherine, was sleeping. His parents had gone and left him! That girl made him lose his only chance to work on a dig he would be in. And worse, she was now his adopted sister! Although he cared for her (in the sloppiest way he tried) while his mum and dad were gone, he still loathed her presence in his house.
He washed his lunch dishes and carefully put them away in the cabinet. Then he went outside. There was still gardening to do, and he secretly loved caring for a small pine tree in an out of the way corner in the garden. He had planted it from a cutting he had taken from the Christmas tree the family had when he was eight. That year seemed somewhat special, seeing as he had survived being kidnapped, his father almost killed, and his mother being murdered but raised back to life. They were all happy to be home and living. He walked out onto the brick patio and took a small pouch of tools he had hidden behind a rock, and began to work. He hummed a wandering tune as he dug his fingers into the earth and trimmed the bushes. How he loved this work! His parents would never think him sane if they caught him working out here; they hired a gardener to fix up the place every three months and clear away the fallen leaves in autumn. Alex went out and helped him whenever his parents went out, and got to know him by name. Marcus, it was, and he only seemed to be his age. He had a sister, but a real one, and her name was Mirella. She was 17, close to his age, and was pretty. She had black hair, and warm brown eyes, like her older brother.
He stood up, cleaned off his tools and looked himself over. He was moderately clean, except for his hands, and went inside to wash them off.
Alex walked into the bathroom and washed his hands. He stopped when walking out the door. What was that? He heard a noise in the kitchen. Who could it be?
Alex creeped down the stairs and carefully stepped down the hallway. He looked, and there was that girl. His 'sister'. New rage boiled up inside him and he exploded.
"Just WHAT do you think you're doing!?" he shouted.
She must have jumped ten feet in the air, and dropped the apple she was holding.
"I, I, was j,just going eat the apple…I didn't mean to do any harm or anything, I just, just was hungry."
He glared at her, then at the apple on the table.
"Then pick it up and eat it! Don't leave it lying there!" He replied, remembering what she had done to him.
"Yes, sir." She answered, and she picked up the apple.
"My name is Alex." He growled.
She looked up at him.
"Yes, Alex."
"Thank you." he snapped. "What's your name?" how could he not remember her name? After all, she had now been his sister for three weeks.
"Catherine." She said, bit into the apple.
*****
"Well, Catherine," he had said, spitting out her name as if it was bitter to his taste, "do you know why you're here?"
She shook her head.
"No, Alex, I don't. I only thought it was because I, kind of…went unconscious in your hallway."
She honestly had no idea.
"Well, it seems that you're now my sister, and you made me stay home to take care of you for three weeks and MISS OUT ON MY ARCHEOLOGICAL DIG!" he screamed.
Why on earth is he being so snippy?! She thought.
"What is this? I don't even know you!" Catherine yelled back. If he was going to shout at her, he was going to get shout at too. "I come to your house and have no idea whether I'm going to live to the next week and against my own power I happen to black out in your hallway. I had no frigging idea what was going on in your travel plans! It wasn't my fault I got sick! It wasn't my fault my mother died! It wasn't my fault I was sent here under mum's orders that I was to come to you! How would you like to be in my shoes!"
"Rick, could you help me take her to the guest bedroom?" Evie asked, dabbing the girl's burning forehead with a teat towel.
He shook himself out of his stupor and gently picked the girl up in his arms and followed Evie to the bedroom.
His wife, ever prepared, had placed all her medicinal needs in the room with her, along with a pair of fresh clothes.
"Thank you, sweetie, I have work to do…" Evie said, looking at him, then at the clothes.
Rick understood completely, and left to see what Alex was up to, and what was in that leather envelope.
*****
1 Alex slumped down in a chair waiting for word on what would happen about his trip. He had been waiting for this ever since….ever. This would be his first time travelling to a dig HE would be included in. He could be able to dig up his own artifacts, and could be able to keep them or give them to a museum. Alex was so excited and hyped up he could barely contain himself. Then, that girl came and landed on the carpet. Why not just ship her over to a hospital and leave. The train was leaving tomorrow, and they were just going to stop over at Uncle John's house, see how he was doing, and whether or not the house was decimated into a dump of bottles and knickers of unknown owners. Alex looked up at his dad walking down that stairs with a look of concentration. He too sat down in an opposite chair and looked at Alex.
"Alex, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no."
"But DAD!"
Rick held up his hand and Alex quieted.
"Yes, I know you have been expecting this for a while, but your mother and I have to talk this over."
Alex opened his mouth in response, but closed it. He knew better than to start a quarreling match with his father, who was just as stubborn as he was.
And the more he behaved, the larger chance he had of going.
*****
Evie looked over her 'patient'. She had changed her out of the soaked, disintegrated clothed, and put on a pair of old, warm flannel pajamas Alex had when he was 13. The girl had a raging fever, and a damp cloth was smoothed over her forehead. Evie was sitting in a chair next to her, reading a book and checking the girl's temperature every now and again.
*****
Rick grabbed the envelope by his side and cracked it open, breaking the wax on the seams. Inside was a stack of papers and on the top was a hand- written letter. It said:
Dear Mr. O'Connell,
I hope that this letter never is given to you as it is only a last resort, but if fate has not smiled upon me, I hope you understand.
I, Sheila Elizabeth Monroe, daughter of the late Winston Monroe, know that you were very close to my father. My mother died in childbirth when I was 7 and he raised me in the best form he could being a pilot in the first great war. I grew up and had a family of my own, which I took care of very well, I hope. Devastatingly, my husband died in the second great war in a plane crash, as my father did. At this time I seriously thought about will's, and who would take care of my only daughter, Catherine. I do not have any close family or friends that would accept my daughter, either out of their travel habits or that they have too many children to accept another. I contemplated what I was going to do, and the only thought I had was of you. My father told me many things about you later in his life, and you seemed like the only responsible adult I have known. In this folder are the papers and my will to allow my daughter to become your own. I hope you may accept her and take care of her as I did.
Signed,
Sheila Elizabeth Monroe age 40
Rick placed the letter over to one side. Sure enough there were papers that were completely legal and binding saying that in the event both parents of this girl died, she would be handed over to him and his family if he had one.
He fell back into his chair and sighed. This would be interesting to explain to Evie, and impossible for Alex.
"Alex?" he said.
His son looked up from flipping through the newspaper.
"Read this," he said, handing him the letter, "and try to not go insane on me."
*****
Alex' jaw dropped.
At least, that was what it looked like from Rick's point of view. He had read the letter, went through the will with a fine toothed comb, and his jaw dropped. Nothing else.
*****
Catherine stirred from her bed. Where was she? Her glasses had been taken off and placed on a nearby table. She slipped out of bed and looked at her new clothes. They were red plaid pajamas, and had an 'A' embroidered on the chest. She picked up her glasses and placed them over her nose. That was better. She could see now. And she felt better, much better. No more headaches or upset stomach, fever, or aches all over, but she was ravenous. She padded out into the hall and scanned the area. It was obvious she was in the house she had collapsed in, but only by the pattern of the hall carpet she had last seen. Catherine walked down the stairs and smiled at the sun streaming in through the window in the parlor. The kitchen was right in front of her and she opened a cupboard. Inside was just dry goods like flour and sugar, nothing she could eat right now. Looking on the table there was a large bowl of apples.
"Yum!" she muttered to herself, picking up a nice red one and rubbing it on her sleeve to clean it off.
"Just what do you think you're doing?!" a voice shouted from behind her.
In her shock she dropped the apple on the table, and twisted around. The man behind her was taller than her and looked like he was going to explode.
Her mouth went dry, and her voice sank to a whisper.
"I, I, was j,just going eat the apple…I didn't mean to do any harm or anything, I just, just was hungry."
The man still looked angry, and frowned at her.
"Then pick it up and eat it! Don't leave it lying there!" he raised his voice.
"Yes, sir." She answered, though he had to at least as old as her, and picked up the fallen apple.
*****
Alex was furious, even through the three weeks that girl, Catherine, was sleeping. His parents had gone and left him! That girl made him lose his only chance to work on a dig he would be in. And worse, she was now his adopted sister! Although he cared for her (in the sloppiest way he tried) while his mum and dad were gone, he still loathed her presence in his house.
He washed his lunch dishes and carefully put them away in the cabinet. Then he went outside. There was still gardening to do, and he secretly loved caring for a small pine tree in an out of the way corner in the garden. He had planted it from a cutting he had taken from the Christmas tree the family had when he was eight. That year seemed somewhat special, seeing as he had survived being kidnapped, his father almost killed, and his mother being murdered but raised back to life. They were all happy to be home and living. He walked out onto the brick patio and took a small pouch of tools he had hidden behind a rock, and began to work. He hummed a wandering tune as he dug his fingers into the earth and trimmed the bushes. How he loved this work! His parents would never think him sane if they caught him working out here; they hired a gardener to fix up the place every three months and clear away the fallen leaves in autumn. Alex went out and helped him whenever his parents went out, and got to know him by name. Marcus, it was, and he only seemed to be his age. He had a sister, but a real one, and her name was Mirella. She was 17, close to his age, and was pretty. She had black hair, and warm brown eyes, like her older brother.
He stood up, cleaned off his tools and looked himself over. He was moderately clean, except for his hands, and went inside to wash them off.
Alex walked into the bathroom and washed his hands. He stopped when walking out the door. What was that? He heard a noise in the kitchen. Who could it be?
Alex creeped down the stairs and carefully stepped down the hallway. He looked, and there was that girl. His 'sister'. New rage boiled up inside him and he exploded.
"Just WHAT do you think you're doing!?" he shouted.
She must have jumped ten feet in the air, and dropped the apple she was holding.
"I, I, was j,just going eat the apple…I didn't mean to do any harm or anything, I just, just was hungry."
He glared at her, then at the apple on the table.
"Then pick it up and eat it! Don't leave it lying there!" He replied, remembering what she had done to him.
"Yes, sir." She answered, and she picked up the apple.
"My name is Alex." He growled.
She looked up at him.
"Yes, Alex."
"Thank you." he snapped. "What's your name?" how could he not remember her name? After all, she had now been his sister for three weeks.
"Catherine." She said, bit into the apple.
*****
"Well, Catherine," he had said, spitting out her name as if it was bitter to his taste, "do you know why you're here?"
She shook her head.
"No, Alex, I don't. I only thought it was because I, kind of…went unconscious in your hallway."
She honestly had no idea.
"Well, it seems that you're now my sister, and you made me stay home to take care of you for three weeks and MISS OUT ON MY ARCHEOLOGICAL DIG!" he screamed.
Why on earth is he being so snippy?! She thought.
"What is this? I don't even know you!" Catherine yelled back. If he was going to shout at her, he was going to get shout at too. "I come to your house and have no idea whether I'm going to live to the next week and against my own power I happen to black out in your hallway. I had no frigging idea what was going on in your travel plans! It wasn't my fault I got sick! It wasn't my fault my mother died! It wasn't my fault I was sent here under mum's orders that I was to come to you! How would you like to be in my shoes!"