Catherine stormed up one of the hills that surrounded the town, a straw hat her mother had demanded she bring carried uselessly in her hand. It was the tallest and most remote. The townspeople rarely ventured up to the top.
The townspeople….
The straw hat was crushed in her hands at the very thought. She knew what they thought of her. The young women who might have been her friends often gossiped about her while her back was turned. After all, she was the daughter of a poor seamstress who's husband had abandoned her while Cat was only a few months old.
Cat's eyes narrowed as she recalled several cynical conversations she happened to overhear. The straw hat was barely recognizable now. Her mother was no whore.
The sun was just beginning to disappear below the horizon as she reached the top. Cat walked briskly towards it, as if trying to catch it.
"Take me with you." She whispered longingly, then instantly regretted it. She's was too old to spout out such foolish requests. Or so her mother would say.
With a sigh, she fell to her knees, eyes fixated on the brilliant sunset before her. How she longed to be free! Why couldn't she have been born a boy? Things would be so much simpler then.
*****
Anne fretfully peered through the window into the night. It was getting late and Catherine had yet to get home. What if she had run away? Or worse, what if she had been attacked…or kidnapped?
Closing the curtain, she walked back to her seat before the fire and collapsed into it. A shirt she was mending lay forgotten on the floor. She covered her face with her hands.
"I cannot do this any longer." Anne moaned. "She's your daughter with your inherent strong will. I cannot keep up with her. I just-"
"Mother, who are you talking to?"
Anne stood bolt upright, spinning to stare at her daughter. Catherine glanced around the room incredulously, having just entered from the kitchen.
"Where have you been?!" Anne demanded furiously.
"I was taking a walk to clear my head." Cat replied coolly. "I came through the back door. I apologize if I worried you."
Her mother sighed, sitting back down. "Catherine, I do not want to fight."
Cat just looked away.
Anne shook her head. "I was speaking to your father." She said, changing the subject. Cat's attention was instantly back on her.
"My father?" She questioned, scanning the room once again. Had she somehow missed noticing another person in the room?
"He isn't here Catherine. I sometimes speak to him when I am upset. It helps calm me down."
Cat moved to sit in the chair opposite her mother, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs under her. Anne kept herself from commenting on the unladylike posture.
"You're not angry with him?" Cat asked in surprise.
"No, not any longer. For years I hated him, but that has mostly been replaced with acceptance…and understanding."
"Understanding?! How could you of all people understand how he walked out on us?" Cat demanded angrily.
"Catherine, you never knew your father, so you could not possibly understand. He tried to be someone he wasn't. I tried to change him." She sighed. "I should have known that was impossible."
Cat kept silent. She stared at her mother, anger evident in her eyes.
"Please do not hate him. You're father was of the sea. It was a part of him. My love was not strong enough to surpass that love."
Her daughter didn't look convinced, but the anger seemed to dim. She looked away for a moment, before asking. "You've never spoken of my father before. Why now?"
Anne smiled sadly. "You remind me of him often." Before Catherine could ask anything else, she stood up. "It is getting late."
The conversation was over.
The townspeople….
The straw hat was crushed in her hands at the very thought. She knew what they thought of her. The young women who might have been her friends often gossiped about her while her back was turned. After all, she was the daughter of a poor seamstress who's husband had abandoned her while Cat was only a few months old.
Cat's eyes narrowed as she recalled several cynical conversations she happened to overhear. The straw hat was barely recognizable now. Her mother was no whore.
The sun was just beginning to disappear below the horizon as she reached the top. Cat walked briskly towards it, as if trying to catch it.
"Take me with you." She whispered longingly, then instantly regretted it. She's was too old to spout out such foolish requests. Or so her mother would say.
With a sigh, she fell to her knees, eyes fixated on the brilliant sunset before her. How she longed to be free! Why couldn't she have been born a boy? Things would be so much simpler then.
*****
Anne fretfully peered through the window into the night. It was getting late and Catherine had yet to get home. What if she had run away? Or worse, what if she had been attacked…or kidnapped?
Closing the curtain, she walked back to her seat before the fire and collapsed into it. A shirt she was mending lay forgotten on the floor. She covered her face with her hands.
"I cannot do this any longer." Anne moaned. "She's your daughter with your inherent strong will. I cannot keep up with her. I just-"
"Mother, who are you talking to?"
Anne stood bolt upright, spinning to stare at her daughter. Catherine glanced around the room incredulously, having just entered from the kitchen.
"Where have you been?!" Anne demanded furiously.
"I was taking a walk to clear my head." Cat replied coolly. "I came through the back door. I apologize if I worried you."
Her mother sighed, sitting back down. "Catherine, I do not want to fight."
Cat just looked away.
Anne shook her head. "I was speaking to your father." She said, changing the subject. Cat's attention was instantly back on her.
"My father?" She questioned, scanning the room once again. Had she somehow missed noticing another person in the room?
"He isn't here Catherine. I sometimes speak to him when I am upset. It helps calm me down."
Cat moved to sit in the chair opposite her mother, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs under her. Anne kept herself from commenting on the unladylike posture.
"You're not angry with him?" Cat asked in surprise.
"No, not any longer. For years I hated him, but that has mostly been replaced with acceptance…and understanding."
"Understanding?! How could you of all people understand how he walked out on us?" Cat demanded angrily.
"Catherine, you never knew your father, so you could not possibly understand. He tried to be someone he wasn't. I tried to change him." She sighed. "I should have known that was impossible."
Cat kept silent. She stared at her mother, anger evident in her eyes.
"Please do not hate him. You're father was of the sea. It was a part of him. My love was not strong enough to surpass that love."
Her daughter didn't look convinced, but the anger seemed to dim. She looked away for a moment, before asking. "You've never spoken of my father before. Why now?"
Anne smiled sadly. "You remind me of him often." Before Catherine could ask anything else, she stood up. "It is getting late."
The conversation was over.