The Photo Album
Amaya: Thanks so much for reviewing!! I appreciate it so much!! I'm moving my personal thank you notes to the bottom, so don't think I'm trying to be mean by ignoring you!!
Disclaimer: Still don't own it.
~oOoOoOo~
The cold weather still lingered in Flower Bud as the dawn of Spring 5 occured. Though all the snow had melted, a few reluctant icicles continued to dangle from rooftops and trees, windowsills and fences.
I was already dressed at seven o'clock in the morning, in a longsleeved white tee shirt, my trademark purple vest, a comfortable pair of blue jeans, and my usual hiking boots. Stepping through my front door, I felt the cold morning dew on my feet and saw it dripping slowly down the half- dead blades of grass. But hope rekindled in my eyes as I noticed the sun peeking carefully over the horizon, waiting to melt all of late winter's chill away from our tiny island.
Taking small, quick steps to warm my legs up, I briskly made my way to the Moonlit Farm. After the reading of Pappy's will those few days ago, I hadn't been able to muster up quite enough courage or strength to enter the old farm again. Too many sad memories. So now, as much as I dreaded visiting the place again, I knew in my heart that I was curious to see what Pappy, or even God, had intended for me.
I'd been thinking a lot about God since the reading of Pappy's will. The old man seemed to have loved Him more than anything throughout the days he lived. Sometimes all he'd ever talked about had been "God's blessings," "God's rewards," "God's grace," "God's love." Was this God real, or had Pappy just been mistaken?
I decided to put the thought on hold; I could play mind games with myself forever. The farm was beginning to come into focus. I stopped at the front gate and took a deep breath, holding back a bucket of tears. I rubbed my fingers together for a second, then slowly opened the gate, taking cautious strides inside. Something looked different. I realized that Gray had taken the remains of Bear's old doghouse, leaving an empty patch of dirt ground a few yards away from the big wooden shipping bin.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. CRACK! Loud noises coming from the direction of the field repeated themselves again and again. I cautiously kept walking, tucking a few strands of stray hair behind my ear, out of my pale face. Suddenly, I heard the bark of a dog.
A dog? What was a dog doing here?
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a teeny-tiny brown dachshund puppy darted around the corner of the shack Pappy'd called a house. "Oh, goddess!" I muttered quietly as the yipping dog bounded toward me. Instinctively, I squatted down, my outstretched hands receiving the cold, moist feeling of wet grass. To my surprise, the puppy ran straight into my arms, but never stopped barking. It's shrill cries rang mercilessly in my eardrums, and without a second thought, I rushed into the farmhouse, letting the crummy wooden door shut quietly behind me.
Finally, the dog quit barking. I checked to see that "it" was actually a "him," stroked his ears a bit, and set him down on the ground, where he raced about the room frantically, small pink tongue dangling out of his little mouth, ears that were too big blowing out behind his head. I noticed that he had no collar. 'Well, so much for finding his name,' I thought, finally taking a minute to look around at the house.
The first thing I noticed was that Maria had taken the bookcase that used to sit in the corner by the television. I also saw that Pappy's tarnished old hand-me-down sofa had been replaced by a brand new brown leather loveseat that actually looked pretty decent. Various new pictures in decorative frames were hanging about the room, mostly above the unmade bed that had been moved to the far left corner. But the "dining table" was still sitting dead center, now with a blue and white checked tablecloth, with a small pot of Pink Cat Mint flowers on top.
Walking toward the television, I saw that the little dachshund pup, thinner and shorter than my forearm, had made himself comfortable in between the lumps of sheets and pillows on the messy bed. I smiled at him, and he perked up his ears as if to smile back.
The TV was easy to move out of the way, so I just slid it over to find a good-sized cabinet behind it. I opened it freely, and saw that my mom and dad had already come for their inheritance and left mine behind. There were about five casette tapes stacked atop each other next to the thickest photo album in the world. After shoving the tapes into my big vest pockets, I heaved the maroon-covered album into my arms. "Okay," I whispered to myself, "I guess I'm ready to go."
On my way out, I noticed that the toolbox was wide open, and half the tools were missing. The new farmer must've been working pretty hard. When Pappy passed away, he left his field in ruins, rotting stumps dotting the landscape, lots of rocks and boulders scattered around, with weeds filling all the empty spaces. This Jack guy definitely had his work cut out for him.
Before opening the door to leave, I made sure the puppy was asleep, and thankfully, he was. Still looking behind me to confirm that I'd gotten everything I needed, I walked out the door quietly. But when I turned my head fully around, I found myself eye to eye with Pappy's young grandson. I let out a yelp in surprise, but he just flashed a brave, manly look in his deep brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked, resting his muscly arms on the doorframe, cornering me.
I glared at him sharply, the monster in me threatening to appear. "Why do you care?"
"Because this is my house," he said, softening his tone just a little. "Why are you here?" Then he noticed the photo album in my arms, and his eyes evolved from the daring glare to an understanding look.
"I just came to get what Pappy left me," I replied, still not showing any traces of kindness. I lifted up the big maroon book for an instant so he could see.
"You must be Carrie," he said, returning to a friendly expression and normal body position.
"Karen," I corrected, my sharp voice piercing the cold morning air.
"Oh, right. Your parents stopped by here a few days ago." He paused, then stuck out a hand. "I'm Jack, Pappy's grandson."
"I know who you are," I responded rudely. I ignored his attempt at a handshake and shoved my way past him.
"Wait a second," Jack's boyish voice called from a few feet behind me. Suddenly, I felt a soft, gentle hand grasping my upper arm. "You look familiar."
"I get that a lot," I lied; no one looked like me except my dead grandmother.
"No, you don't." He firmly pulled me a bit closer, so I was turned around to face him. "No one looks like you." He must've read my thoughts somehow. "Not even your mom."
"Fine, so I look familiar. Big whoop." I forcefully whipped around on my heels and jerked my arm away from him. But again, the familiar yips of the little dachshund pup rang in my ears, and this time I felt his little teeth scratching my ankles.
"Beanie!" Jack hollers at the dog. "Beanie, no!" Apparently, the dog "Beanie" had not been fully trained yet. Although he turned his head a bit at the sound of his name, he continued tearing at my jeans, all though he wasn't affecting them much.
Finally, I turned around and easily picked him up with one arm. My cheeks radiated beet red, I know, when I swiftly strolled back to Jack. I handed the puppy to him, and he tucked him in the crook of his arm like a football. "He likes you," Jack said, his charming grin tugging at the corners of my own mouth.
But I just flashed a sarcastic smile, and said, "Nice try." With that, I hurried off back home, lugging the big photo album all the way. I wasn't surprised to see Mother moping sadly around the kitchen, and Dad not even home. I'd gotten used to this state of home and usually ignored it. Today wasn't different.
As I walked up the old staircase to my bedroom, curiosity and nervousness started building up in my mind. I wondered about the album, the music, and the "special something" Pappy supposedly left me. I couldn't figure out what the special something was, let alone where I could find it. Maybe it was hidden in the music, or tucked away in the photo album. Who knew?
I couldn't wait to find out, hastily slamming my bedroom door behind me and kicking off my shoes into the closet. Leaping onto my neatly made green bedspread, I stretched my arms out to my night stand, where a little old tape player sat with dust crawling all over it. I selected a tape from my pocket with the label, "Fairies of the Night," and played it. The first song bounced with energy; I would have a fun time dancing to it later, when I felt like it. Looking closely at the case the tape had come in, I discovered that the name of this song was, "A Little Girl's Dream."
I liked this song, and my favor for it only got stronger as the song went on. Soon, though, I opened up the album to the first page.
The picture at the very top of the sheet was black and white, of a much younger, but still recognizable Pappy cheek to cheek with a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who I remembered from some of Pappy's old framed pictures as his wife. A small tab below the picture read: "Dating Lyssa Mae." The photo next to it depicted Pappy with his same blue baseball cap, this time in mid-kiss with Lyssa Mae. There were four more pictures with the label "Dating Lyssa Mae": two with the couple slow dancing, one of the lovebirds at some sort of party, and the last one of the two of them dressed in fancy clothes with a lot of other well-dressed people. The latter had an extra label that read: "Paul and Eve's wedding." Now that I'd seen the label telling of the wedding between my grandfather and grandmother, I was able to recognize Hector, Anella, and Granny Ellen in the posed picture, each of them with their own partners.
After those, there were pictures of Pappy and Lyssa Mae's engagement and wedding shower, each of them as cute as could be: snapshots as well as posed pictures. The most beautiful of all the photos were the ones from their actual wedding. Their faces were so full of happiness and cheer, hope and laughter. The church was dazzling, and the reception hall positively beamed a promising start. A lot of the pictures were of kisses and hugs, I noticed.
Now the black and white portraits evolved into colored photographs.
As I continued flipping through, I saw pictures of each and every anniversary mixed in with photos of their son's birth and birthdays. Labels read: Lyle Adam's first steps, Lyle Adam's first day of school, first time overnight at a friend's house, first school play, Lyle Adam's baptism, solo in choir, Lyssa Mae's first day of work at the library, first harvest (cabbage, potatoes, and turnips), Flower Festival with Lyssa Mae and Lyle Adam, winning the horse race with Gretel, winning cow festival with Zoe/Clara Belle/Izzie/Treaty (there were four of these wins), Bear wins dog race (three of these), and an entire multitude of photos from Lyle Adam's going away party as he left for a college in Connecticut.
Then more pictures flooded the pages telling of Lyle's acceptance to Yale Law and his congratulations party back home in Flower Bud. Even more appeared when Lyle got married to a young college graduate named Minnie Veronica St. Paul. In the midst of these, I found a note written in Pappy's neat cursive handwriting. It read:
When Lyle Adam and Minnie got married, they decided to move off to Texas, away from both of their families, God knows why. They've acquired a nice home in Fort Worth, however, in a decent neighborhood filled with wonderful Christian people. I met some of them when I came to visit. Like I say, wonderful people. Lyle Adam and Minnie are sure to have a wonderful new life here, now that Lyle's graduated from law school and Minnie's through with her NYU years.
In my visit, I requested of Minnie some photos of her pregnancy months (they are planning on having a baby) and of her baby shower, so I can add them. I expect to receive them shortly.
And sure enough, I saw pictures of a fair-haired, very pregnant young woman who I knew to be Minnie, with and without Lyle Adam. A few baby shower pictures followed, filled with girlfriends of Minnie's pouring wonderful gifts on her: adorable baby clothes, a crib, a playpen, a chestful of early childhood toys. . .
Finally, I came upon the birth of the child, an exceptionally beautiful baby boy upon the stomach of a very tired, sweaty Minnie Veronica. A few more photos showed Lyle Adam holding him in his arms, and still more of Pappy and Lyssa Mae embracing the child dearly. On one page after this there was a black and white copy of the boy's birth certificate. It stated the names of the parents, then went on about the baby's birth details.
Name: Jackson Elijah Tandley.
Date of Birth: Summer 25
Time: 12:02 AM
Weight: 7 lb. 12 oz.
Length: 20 in.
I smiled at the adorable baby photo above the information. He really had been a cute baby, with his little pink ears, rosy cheeks, and his tiny hands groping around the blank air between him and the camera. "Aww," I thought to myself. "What a cutie." Again, I reminded myself how he was still cute, and couldn't contain a feminine giggle.
Scores of photographs followed, of Jackson Elijah's "dedication to God," his first, second, third, and fourth birthday parties, first steps, first time to speak, first day at preschool, and even first spanking. I saw a few cute pictures of the child, just starting to grow some thick dark hair and developing his deep brown eyes, with chocolate cake and ice cream smeared all around his face, or with his father's sunglasses on, a few with him in a funny clown outfit, red nose and all, about four of Jack with his mom and dad at some kind of carnival or circus or something.
I turned the page and was thrilled to suddenly see pictures of people I knew. There was Doug Green, looking younger and happier, with a blonde woman, his deceased wife, who was extrodinarily large in the belly. I realized she'd been pregnant with Gray. I saw my grandmother, late in years but still smiling like a sheshire cat. And there was Thomas Lopez, looking much younger indeed, missing his bright red top hat and round glasses. Instead, I noticed that his hair was slicked back in a mullet (ew!) and his irregular eyes sparkled. I figured out that this was a picture from when he and Anna had just been engaged to be married; Anna was hanging on him with her right arm, her left hand extended toward the camera to reveal a dazzling emerald engagement ring that I still saw her wear today.
More and more pictures followed, featuring the parents of each kid my age, of course excluding Kai and Jeff, whose parents had died early in their lives. Each individual looked young and alive, contrary to the old, dull life we endured nowadays.
Finally I found photos of Gray's birth. He was a chubby little baby! I laughed aloud at the few baby pictures it showed, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and his meaty fingers entwined. More photos started to come of the whole first year of his life.
How I missed him. For a long time I'd been convinced that I could never love again. . .not after such a despondant heart-break. I found that the feeling of unlovability had almost vanished, realizing I now had small feelings for the now-single Kai. But, of course, I restrained these feelings. No one could start a new relationship so shortly after a sudden break up.
Suddenly, I came across a photo of my mother, her stomach bulging hugely. Her strawberry blonde hair was down, differently than ever before, and flowing past her shoulder blades and down her back like a beautiful gold river. She was showing a small smile, but her green eyes gleamed cheerily. Her soft white hands were delicately laid on her round tummy with love. I realized right away that she'd been pregnant with me when the picture was taken. One more picture like this followed, Mother looking the same as in the previous one, but this time Daddy had joined her, a wild grin splitting his face as he hugged my mom from behind.
I silently wished things were still that way. I wished that my father cared anything about hugging or kissing, or showing any kind of affection. Needless to say, ever since that horrible night when I was fifteen, everything just went downhill. My father got drunker each night, returning home in a wild daze or in mid-tirade. I often locked my bedroom door at night, and had even added a layer of foam to the surface of the door to muffle the noises: curse words, shouts, cries, and broken valuables, but never a hit or a slap. . .not since Daddy'd hit me those few years ago. Goddess knew why.
I discarded these thoughts quickly, abruptly relaxing the sharp pains of bad memories.
I found tons of pregnancy photos of several different mothers: Lillia with Popuri, Mrs. Green with Ann, Elli's mother (I'd never even known her name), Anna with Maria, Harris's mother. . .
All of a sudden, my baby picture appeared on the next page. My eyes were glowing in the picture, and my tiny little hands were resting comfortably on my belly. I saw pictures of my mother and father holding me, as well as Uncle Andy and Aunt Pat, who also held a young child of their own, who I knew to be Cliff.
Following these photos were the pictures of other births in the village. I saw Popuri first, then Ann with her radiant blue eyes. After that, Elli's pictures appeared, then Harris's, and finally Maria's.
Suddenly, pictures of Pappy's wife Lyssa Mae completely disappeared. I knew that this was about when she passed away with a serious lung disease.
A plethora of pictures continued to fill the pages as my grandmother's old ballet music bounced through my bedroom. Many of the pictures were just random, miscellaneous things with silly labels like, "Never leave Bear alone in the bathtub again!", and "I guess children shouldn't play with shaving cream," and "I'll never leave Bessie in the rain again!"
My favorite pictures had been taken at the Harvest Festival when the other children and I were about three years old. The sky shown brilliant blue above the beautifully decorated square. Everyone was dancing merrily, embracing one another, and laughing heartily. I wished I could've remembered this happy time so long ago. But I was still glad that Pappy had captured all these fond memories and preserved them in a book.
There were fifth birthday party pictures all of the sudden, beginning with Gray's since he was oldest. Jack's was next, and there were many more of these because Pappy had traveled to Texas to be with them for the special occasion. Since I was oldest out of the girls, mine was next. I remembered this day vaguely. Only the girls had come over to my house for a slumber party, but almost everyone had attended the beach portion of the celebration. After these photos, I saw the birthdays of Popuri, Ann, Elli, Harris, Jeff, and Maria.
Looking up from the album, I gave my eyes a chance to relax, focusing on distant clouds through the bedroom window. I accidentally caught sight of the beautiful blue vase Pappy'd given me last week at my birthday party, filled with the wilting roses. Though they had once been radiant pink, the flowers were withering away, slowly browning with age.
The soft melodies that had been flowing through the speakers in my cassette player gently ceased, and I quickly realized that the tape was over. I took out the tape and replaced it with another cassette titled, "Love Forbidden." The first song sprang with ups and downs, slow bounces and active bounds. I smiled at the name of the piece: "Love at First Sight." Indeed the song was a myserious series of hills and valleys, mountainpeaks and deep canyons.
When I looked back down to the album and turned the page, I was alarmed to see a cheery photograph of me, still five years old, with all the other girls, Harris, Jeff, and. . .
Jack?!
My forehead wrinkled in utter confusion. Had I known Jack way back then? Well, obviously! In the picture, he was dead center, with Elli and I on either side of him, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders playfully. I propped up the album with my hands and craned my neck forward until the picture was mere inches away from my puzzled green eyes.
We were all in our swimsuits at the beach, the waves crashing marvelously behind us, and the wonderful backdrop of the summer blue sky shining splendidly.
As I tilted the book forward again, I felt the edge of an off-white envelope pressing against my forearm. I let the album fall to the cushy green comforter and picked up the envelope, quickly sitting up on my bed. I carefully opened it up, not wanting to tear the fancy paper. There was a folded piece of paper inside, which I gingerly unfolded.
I found it to be covered in black ink: Pappy's exquisite cursive handwriting. Could this be the special something Pappy had mentioned again and again in his will?
Dear Karen, my sweetheart,
Yes, my dear, this is your special something. And as I plainly stated in my will, this letter is to be kept between the two of us, alright, sweetheart?
Now I know that you are starting to see some photos of you and my grandson Jack way back when you were just about five. I know, also, that you've forgotten all about this young man and that joyous summer he spent down here so long ago. But I, sweetheart, have kept this wonderful experience in my memory.
You were just a girl of five when that summer dawned. Jack arrived and the two of you immediately clicked. You, Ann, and he used to spend multiple hours a day with each other, playing tag at the beach, hide-and-go-seek at the vineyard, and racing across the fields at Moonlit Farm. He used to come home each day full of things to say about you. In fact, I recorded his exact words in my diary and have torn out this particular page and placed it in the same envelope in which you found this letter.
And then, that day when he left. . .all of you kids were so heart-broken. Even those three hurricanes were boo-hoo-hooing half the next fall! But I knew you'd be the first he'd bid farewell to. And somehow, I knew to send you a book through him, although I could very well have done it myself. But, in some strange way, God had figured out that as long as Jack gave it to you when you were so young and irresponsible, that Bible would drift right out of your memory.
But the good thing about this fact is, you'll find it at just the right time. Now, sweetheart, heed these instructions. I gave you that Bible the very day Jack left. You lost it before the year was over, I know. Truth is, I even know how you lost it, sweetheart.
You tucked it into your old nightstand drawer and forgot all about it. Then, when you got a new nightstand, you sent the old one down to the guest room (which is now Kai's room). I know no one ever even entered that room before Kai arrived. Simple and silly as it may seem, the Bible is hidden there in Kai's nightstand.
What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Go get it!
In the Lord Almighty, Pappy
PS: I love you, sweetheart, and always will. Keep lovin' them pink roses, Karen. Best wishes.
I smiled, even through my watery eyes, at his PS. Before heading down to Kai's room, I pulled out the diary page he'd written of and slowly ran my eyes over it.
Date: Summer 15
Dear diary,
Jack is so full of pep today! Apparently, something's happened with my sweetheart Karen, and the pup just won't be quiet about it! Here are his exact words, which I remember precisely.
Just as he walked through the door today, soaking wet from the storm rain, at about five o'clock, he blurted, "Today's the best day of my adult life!"
To this, I chuckled and said, "And why's that, son?"
"Well, Pappy, I kissed Karen. Right there in the pourin' rain, I just smooched her a good one! We were all wet 'cause we'd been dancin' that dance they dance at the Dancin' Festival [this means Harvest Festival in Jack language]! 'Ell, I finally told her that I like her, and she said the same thing back to me! And we were so wet! Golly, Pappy, it's the best day of my adult life! But it woulda been better if I'd remembered to hug her while we were kissin' like they do in Little Mermaid. . .Girls like that stuff don't they? I don't like it much, but anything for Karen! I love her so much, Pap! Yeh, we'll get married one day! Things 'll all be great when I'm like, twenty! Yeah, me and Karen 'll live right here in this house with you! It'll be fun, Pappy! Won't it? Oh, and Pappy, did I tell you how wet we were? It was pouring rain, Pap! We were so wet!"
Ah, the little rascal! I love 'im!
Signed, Joe Tandley
Before I could laugh right aloud, my mind filled with light, then darkness, then more light, and I had a paralyzing flashback.
~~
I was a little kid in the wine cellar with a tiny version of Jack. I looked scared and worried, but at the same time tramatized. Then I remembered that my dad had thrown me in here and locked the door, not realizing Jack was hiding in here. Suddenly Jack jumped into the air screeching something about a hole in the wall.
~~
It didn't take any more for me to remember everything else. Just as little Jack had described, we were wet from the rain, dancing with joy at our escape. Suddenly, we kissed. My first kiss. . .
I remembered it so vividly now. The texture of his lips, the touch of his fingertips upon my wet cheek, the dampness of my brown hair that clung so fiercely to my face.
Then I remembered the day that tiny Jack had left for home again. I remembered the Bible, the hug, the torn picture. . .
The torn picture!!
I leaped into the air and off my head, thundering down the stairs with the music still resonating from my bedroom. I flung Kai's bedroom door open without so much as a knock, relieved to see he was not present. Storming through the cluttered nightstand drawer, I finally found it.
The Bible, with its leather covering and light tissue paper pages, was immensely covered in dust. I quickly wiped it off and shook it away, to find the words "HOLY BIBLE" engraved in gold on the navy blue leather. I hastily leafed through it until coming upon an old wrinkled picture, with a line of torn white down the left side from where it had been ripped in half.
The picture held the adorable image of young Jack, brown eyes brimming with laughter, dimpled cheeks resounding joy. How I loved this picture, and how ashamed I was that I had lost it!
Without a second thought, I burst out of my house and down the vineyard trail with every intention of ending up at Moonlit Farm.
~oOoOoOo~
Amaya: Whew, that only took me FOREVER!! So sorry for the long wait!! Here's my personal thankies:
Harvestboy2001~I really appreciate your reviewing; you seriously have no idea. You're a writer I can admire and look up to, and draw inspiration from. Just know that!! Thanks for following this, and I pray that the long waits between updates hasn't shaken you off the story!!
anime26angel~You, also, are an admirable author, whose work I love more than you know!! Thanks much for your kind review. Keep your wonderful writing up, and keep up those encouraging reviews, too!! (as long as I'm halfway worthy of it)
CrazyGirl23~Thankies much for your uplifting review!! Seriously, you keep me going!!
fairyfriend~Thanks for stickin' with me through the long waits. You've truly been a help in my perseverance, and I can't thank you enough!! Stay with me!!
LCDM~You have absolutely no idea how much you and your sweet reviews mean to me!! I seriously don't think I could keep writing this without you!! Thanks for stickin' up for me. I know this kind of story is controversial with people who don't believe in Jesus' reserrection, or even existence. I can't tell you what kind of strength, encouragement, inspiration, and just plain sweetness you've given me!! Kisses, hugs, and love!!
Lynnika~You, too, have stuck with me through all the long waits. Thanks a million!! You rock!!
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dancerchick77~Uh. . .thanks for the, um. . .review. . .I guess. . .LOL, it was weird and hard to understand, but hey, it's just a review, and I still thank ya for it!!
RedSonic~Ha, ha, ha, don't beat yourself up about the Elli/Maria thing!! LOL, JK, not like you would. Thanks for the review and all your help in keeping me going on the right path. You're a great author, and another person I can look up to. Keep up the great writing and helpful reviewing!!
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So anyway, people, please shoot me a review real quick; it'll only take a second. Make sure you give me some constructive criticism!! Love you guys more than you know!! Have a great one!!
Amaya: Thanks so much for reviewing!! I appreciate it so much!! I'm moving my personal thank you notes to the bottom, so don't think I'm trying to be mean by ignoring you!!
Disclaimer: Still don't own it.
~oOoOoOo~
The cold weather still lingered in Flower Bud as the dawn of Spring 5 occured. Though all the snow had melted, a few reluctant icicles continued to dangle from rooftops and trees, windowsills and fences.
I was already dressed at seven o'clock in the morning, in a longsleeved white tee shirt, my trademark purple vest, a comfortable pair of blue jeans, and my usual hiking boots. Stepping through my front door, I felt the cold morning dew on my feet and saw it dripping slowly down the half- dead blades of grass. But hope rekindled in my eyes as I noticed the sun peeking carefully over the horizon, waiting to melt all of late winter's chill away from our tiny island.
Taking small, quick steps to warm my legs up, I briskly made my way to the Moonlit Farm. After the reading of Pappy's will those few days ago, I hadn't been able to muster up quite enough courage or strength to enter the old farm again. Too many sad memories. So now, as much as I dreaded visiting the place again, I knew in my heart that I was curious to see what Pappy, or even God, had intended for me.
I'd been thinking a lot about God since the reading of Pappy's will. The old man seemed to have loved Him more than anything throughout the days he lived. Sometimes all he'd ever talked about had been "God's blessings," "God's rewards," "God's grace," "God's love." Was this God real, or had Pappy just been mistaken?
I decided to put the thought on hold; I could play mind games with myself forever. The farm was beginning to come into focus. I stopped at the front gate and took a deep breath, holding back a bucket of tears. I rubbed my fingers together for a second, then slowly opened the gate, taking cautious strides inside. Something looked different. I realized that Gray had taken the remains of Bear's old doghouse, leaving an empty patch of dirt ground a few yards away from the big wooden shipping bin.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. CRACK! Loud noises coming from the direction of the field repeated themselves again and again. I cautiously kept walking, tucking a few strands of stray hair behind my ear, out of my pale face. Suddenly, I heard the bark of a dog.
A dog? What was a dog doing here?
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a teeny-tiny brown dachshund puppy darted around the corner of the shack Pappy'd called a house. "Oh, goddess!" I muttered quietly as the yipping dog bounded toward me. Instinctively, I squatted down, my outstretched hands receiving the cold, moist feeling of wet grass. To my surprise, the puppy ran straight into my arms, but never stopped barking. It's shrill cries rang mercilessly in my eardrums, and without a second thought, I rushed into the farmhouse, letting the crummy wooden door shut quietly behind me.
Finally, the dog quit barking. I checked to see that "it" was actually a "him," stroked his ears a bit, and set him down on the ground, where he raced about the room frantically, small pink tongue dangling out of his little mouth, ears that were too big blowing out behind his head. I noticed that he had no collar. 'Well, so much for finding his name,' I thought, finally taking a minute to look around at the house.
The first thing I noticed was that Maria had taken the bookcase that used to sit in the corner by the television. I also saw that Pappy's tarnished old hand-me-down sofa had been replaced by a brand new brown leather loveseat that actually looked pretty decent. Various new pictures in decorative frames were hanging about the room, mostly above the unmade bed that had been moved to the far left corner. But the "dining table" was still sitting dead center, now with a blue and white checked tablecloth, with a small pot of Pink Cat Mint flowers on top.
Walking toward the television, I saw that the little dachshund pup, thinner and shorter than my forearm, had made himself comfortable in between the lumps of sheets and pillows on the messy bed. I smiled at him, and he perked up his ears as if to smile back.
The TV was easy to move out of the way, so I just slid it over to find a good-sized cabinet behind it. I opened it freely, and saw that my mom and dad had already come for their inheritance and left mine behind. There were about five casette tapes stacked atop each other next to the thickest photo album in the world. After shoving the tapes into my big vest pockets, I heaved the maroon-covered album into my arms. "Okay," I whispered to myself, "I guess I'm ready to go."
On my way out, I noticed that the toolbox was wide open, and half the tools were missing. The new farmer must've been working pretty hard. When Pappy passed away, he left his field in ruins, rotting stumps dotting the landscape, lots of rocks and boulders scattered around, with weeds filling all the empty spaces. This Jack guy definitely had his work cut out for him.
Before opening the door to leave, I made sure the puppy was asleep, and thankfully, he was. Still looking behind me to confirm that I'd gotten everything I needed, I walked out the door quietly. But when I turned my head fully around, I found myself eye to eye with Pappy's young grandson. I let out a yelp in surprise, but he just flashed a brave, manly look in his deep brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked, resting his muscly arms on the doorframe, cornering me.
I glared at him sharply, the monster in me threatening to appear. "Why do you care?"
"Because this is my house," he said, softening his tone just a little. "Why are you here?" Then he noticed the photo album in my arms, and his eyes evolved from the daring glare to an understanding look.
"I just came to get what Pappy left me," I replied, still not showing any traces of kindness. I lifted up the big maroon book for an instant so he could see.
"You must be Carrie," he said, returning to a friendly expression and normal body position.
"Karen," I corrected, my sharp voice piercing the cold morning air.
"Oh, right. Your parents stopped by here a few days ago." He paused, then stuck out a hand. "I'm Jack, Pappy's grandson."
"I know who you are," I responded rudely. I ignored his attempt at a handshake and shoved my way past him.
"Wait a second," Jack's boyish voice called from a few feet behind me. Suddenly, I felt a soft, gentle hand grasping my upper arm. "You look familiar."
"I get that a lot," I lied; no one looked like me except my dead grandmother.
"No, you don't." He firmly pulled me a bit closer, so I was turned around to face him. "No one looks like you." He must've read my thoughts somehow. "Not even your mom."
"Fine, so I look familiar. Big whoop." I forcefully whipped around on my heels and jerked my arm away from him. But again, the familiar yips of the little dachshund pup rang in my ears, and this time I felt his little teeth scratching my ankles.
"Beanie!" Jack hollers at the dog. "Beanie, no!" Apparently, the dog "Beanie" had not been fully trained yet. Although he turned his head a bit at the sound of his name, he continued tearing at my jeans, all though he wasn't affecting them much.
Finally, I turned around and easily picked him up with one arm. My cheeks radiated beet red, I know, when I swiftly strolled back to Jack. I handed the puppy to him, and he tucked him in the crook of his arm like a football. "He likes you," Jack said, his charming grin tugging at the corners of my own mouth.
But I just flashed a sarcastic smile, and said, "Nice try." With that, I hurried off back home, lugging the big photo album all the way. I wasn't surprised to see Mother moping sadly around the kitchen, and Dad not even home. I'd gotten used to this state of home and usually ignored it. Today wasn't different.
As I walked up the old staircase to my bedroom, curiosity and nervousness started building up in my mind. I wondered about the album, the music, and the "special something" Pappy supposedly left me. I couldn't figure out what the special something was, let alone where I could find it. Maybe it was hidden in the music, or tucked away in the photo album. Who knew?
I couldn't wait to find out, hastily slamming my bedroom door behind me and kicking off my shoes into the closet. Leaping onto my neatly made green bedspread, I stretched my arms out to my night stand, where a little old tape player sat with dust crawling all over it. I selected a tape from my pocket with the label, "Fairies of the Night," and played it. The first song bounced with energy; I would have a fun time dancing to it later, when I felt like it. Looking closely at the case the tape had come in, I discovered that the name of this song was, "A Little Girl's Dream."
I liked this song, and my favor for it only got stronger as the song went on. Soon, though, I opened up the album to the first page.
The picture at the very top of the sheet was black and white, of a much younger, but still recognizable Pappy cheek to cheek with a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who I remembered from some of Pappy's old framed pictures as his wife. A small tab below the picture read: "Dating Lyssa Mae." The photo next to it depicted Pappy with his same blue baseball cap, this time in mid-kiss with Lyssa Mae. There were four more pictures with the label "Dating Lyssa Mae": two with the couple slow dancing, one of the lovebirds at some sort of party, and the last one of the two of them dressed in fancy clothes with a lot of other well-dressed people. The latter had an extra label that read: "Paul and Eve's wedding." Now that I'd seen the label telling of the wedding between my grandfather and grandmother, I was able to recognize Hector, Anella, and Granny Ellen in the posed picture, each of them with their own partners.
After those, there were pictures of Pappy and Lyssa Mae's engagement and wedding shower, each of them as cute as could be: snapshots as well as posed pictures. The most beautiful of all the photos were the ones from their actual wedding. Their faces were so full of happiness and cheer, hope and laughter. The church was dazzling, and the reception hall positively beamed a promising start. A lot of the pictures were of kisses and hugs, I noticed.
Now the black and white portraits evolved into colored photographs.
As I continued flipping through, I saw pictures of each and every anniversary mixed in with photos of their son's birth and birthdays. Labels read: Lyle Adam's first steps, Lyle Adam's first day of school, first time overnight at a friend's house, first school play, Lyle Adam's baptism, solo in choir, Lyssa Mae's first day of work at the library, first harvest (cabbage, potatoes, and turnips), Flower Festival with Lyssa Mae and Lyle Adam, winning the horse race with Gretel, winning cow festival with Zoe/Clara Belle/Izzie/Treaty (there were four of these wins), Bear wins dog race (three of these), and an entire multitude of photos from Lyle Adam's going away party as he left for a college in Connecticut.
Then more pictures flooded the pages telling of Lyle's acceptance to Yale Law and his congratulations party back home in Flower Bud. Even more appeared when Lyle got married to a young college graduate named Minnie Veronica St. Paul. In the midst of these, I found a note written in Pappy's neat cursive handwriting. It read:
When Lyle Adam and Minnie got married, they decided to move off to Texas, away from both of their families, God knows why. They've acquired a nice home in Fort Worth, however, in a decent neighborhood filled with wonderful Christian people. I met some of them when I came to visit. Like I say, wonderful people. Lyle Adam and Minnie are sure to have a wonderful new life here, now that Lyle's graduated from law school and Minnie's through with her NYU years.
In my visit, I requested of Minnie some photos of her pregnancy months (they are planning on having a baby) and of her baby shower, so I can add them. I expect to receive them shortly.
And sure enough, I saw pictures of a fair-haired, very pregnant young woman who I knew to be Minnie, with and without Lyle Adam. A few baby shower pictures followed, filled with girlfriends of Minnie's pouring wonderful gifts on her: adorable baby clothes, a crib, a playpen, a chestful of early childhood toys. . .
Finally, I came upon the birth of the child, an exceptionally beautiful baby boy upon the stomach of a very tired, sweaty Minnie Veronica. A few more photos showed Lyle Adam holding him in his arms, and still more of Pappy and Lyssa Mae embracing the child dearly. On one page after this there was a black and white copy of the boy's birth certificate. It stated the names of the parents, then went on about the baby's birth details.
Name: Jackson Elijah Tandley.
Date of Birth: Summer 25
Time: 12:02 AM
Weight: 7 lb. 12 oz.
Length: 20 in.
I smiled at the adorable baby photo above the information. He really had been a cute baby, with his little pink ears, rosy cheeks, and his tiny hands groping around the blank air between him and the camera. "Aww," I thought to myself. "What a cutie." Again, I reminded myself how he was still cute, and couldn't contain a feminine giggle.
Scores of photographs followed, of Jackson Elijah's "dedication to God," his first, second, third, and fourth birthday parties, first steps, first time to speak, first day at preschool, and even first spanking. I saw a few cute pictures of the child, just starting to grow some thick dark hair and developing his deep brown eyes, with chocolate cake and ice cream smeared all around his face, or with his father's sunglasses on, a few with him in a funny clown outfit, red nose and all, about four of Jack with his mom and dad at some kind of carnival or circus or something.
I turned the page and was thrilled to suddenly see pictures of people I knew. There was Doug Green, looking younger and happier, with a blonde woman, his deceased wife, who was extrodinarily large in the belly. I realized she'd been pregnant with Gray. I saw my grandmother, late in years but still smiling like a sheshire cat. And there was Thomas Lopez, looking much younger indeed, missing his bright red top hat and round glasses. Instead, I noticed that his hair was slicked back in a mullet (ew!) and his irregular eyes sparkled. I figured out that this was a picture from when he and Anna had just been engaged to be married; Anna was hanging on him with her right arm, her left hand extended toward the camera to reveal a dazzling emerald engagement ring that I still saw her wear today.
More and more pictures followed, featuring the parents of each kid my age, of course excluding Kai and Jeff, whose parents had died early in their lives. Each individual looked young and alive, contrary to the old, dull life we endured nowadays.
Finally I found photos of Gray's birth. He was a chubby little baby! I laughed aloud at the few baby pictures it showed, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and his meaty fingers entwined. More photos started to come of the whole first year of his life.
How I missed him. For a long time I'd been convinced that I could never love again. . .not after such a despondant heart-break. I found that the feeling of unlovability had almost vanished, realizing I now had small feelings for the now-single Kai. But, of course, I restrained these feelings. No one could start a new relationship so shortly after a sudden break up.
Suddenly, I came across a photo of my mother, her stomach bulging hugely. Her strawberry blonde hair was down, differently than ever before, and flowing past her shoulder blades and down her back like a beautiful gold river. She was showing a small smile, but her green eyes gleamed cheerily. Her soft white hands were delicately laid on her round tummy with love. I realized right away that she'd been pregnant with me when the picture was taken. One more picture like this followed, Mother looking the same as in the previous one, but this time Daddy had joined her, a wild grin splitting his face as he hugged my mom from behind.
I silently wished things were still that way. I wished that my father cared anything about hugging or kissing, or showing any kind of affection. Needless to say, ever since that horrible night when I was fifteen, everything just went downhill. My father got drunker each night, returning home in a wild daze or in mid-tirade. I often locked my bedroom door at night, and had even added a layer of foam to the surface of the door to muffle the noises: curse words, shouts, cries, and broken valuables, but never a hit or a slap. . .not since Daddy'd hit me those few years ago. Goddess knew why.
I discarded these thoughts quickly, abruptly relaxing the sharp pains of bad memories.
I found tons of pregnancy photos of several different mothers: Lillia with Popuri, Mrs. Green with Ann, Elli's mother (I'd never even known her name), Anna with Maria, Harris's mother. . .
All of a sudden, my baby picture appeared on the next page. My eyes were glowing in the picture, and my tiny little hands were resting comfortably on my belly. I saw pictures of my mother and father holding me, as well as Uncle Andy and Aunt Pat, who also held a young child of their own, who I knew to be Cliff.
Following these photos were the pictures of other births in the village. I saw Popuri first, then Ann with her radiant blue eyes. After that, Elli's pictures appeared, then Harris's, and finally Maria's.
Suddenly, pictures of Pappy's wife Lyssa Mae completely disappeared. I knew that this was about when she passed away with a serious lung disease.
A plethora of pictures continued to fill the pages as my grandmother's old ballet music bounced through my bedroom. Many of the pictures were just random, miscellaneous things with silly labels like, "Never leave Bear alone in the bathtub again!", and "I guess children shouldn't play with shaving cream," and "I'll never leave Bessie in the rain again!"
My favorite pictures had been taken at the Harvest Festival when the other children and I were about three years old. The sky shown brilliant blue above the beautifully decorated square. Everyone was dancing merrily, embracing one another, and laughing heartily. I wished I could've remembered this happy time so long ago. But I was still glad that Pappy had captured all these fond memories and preserved them in a book.
There were fifth birthday party pictures all of the sudden, beginning with Gray's since he was oldest. Jack's was next, and there were many more of these because Pappy had traveled to Texas to be with them for the special occasion. Since I was oldest out of the girls, mine was next. I remembered this day vaguely. Only the girls had come over to my house for a slumber party, but almost everyone had attended the beach portion of the celebration. After these photos, I saw the birthdays of Popuri, Ann, Elli, Harris, Jeff, and Maria.
Looking up from the album, I gave my eyes a chance to relax, focusing on distant clouds through the bedroom window. I accidentally caught sight of the beautiful blue vase Pappy'd given me last week at my birthday party, filled with the wilting roses. Though they had once been radiant pink, the flowers were withering away, slowly browning with age.
The soft melodies that had been flowing through the speakers in my cassette player gently ceased, and I quickly realized that the tape was over. I took out the tape and replaced it with another cassette titled, "Love Forbidden." The first song sprang with ups and downs, slow bounces and active bounds. I smiled at the name of the piece: "Love at First Sight." Indeed the song was a myserious series of hills and valleys, mountainpeaks and deep canyons.
When I looked back down to the album and turned the page, I was alarmed to see a cheery photograph of me, still five years old, with all the other girls, Harris, Jeff, and. . .
Jack?!
My forehead wrinkled in utter confusion. Had I known Jack way back then? Well, obviously! In the picture, he was dead center, with Elli and I on either side of him, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders playfully. I propped up the album with my hands and craned my neck forward until the picture was mere inches away from my puzzled green eyes.
We were all in our swimsuits at the beach, the waves crashing marvelously behind us, and the wonderful backdrop of the summer blue sky shining splendidly.
As I tilted the book forward again, I felt the edge of an off-white envelope pressing against my forearm. I let the album fall to the cushy green comforter and picked up the envelope, quickly sitting up on my bed. I carefully opened it up, not wanting to tear the fancy paper. There was a folded piece of paper inside, which I gingerly unfolded.
I found it to be covered in black ink: Pappy's exquisite cursive handwriting. Could this be the special something Pappy had mentioned again and again in his will?
Dear Karen, my sweetheart,
Yes, my dear, this is your special something. And as I plainly stated in my will, this letter is to be kept between the two of us, alright, sweetheart?
Now I know that you are starting to see some photos of you and my grandson Jack way back when you were just about five. I know, also, that you've forgotten all about this young man and that joyous summer he spent down here so long ago. But I, sweetheart, have kept this wonderful experience in my memory.
You were just a girl of five when that summer dawned. Jack arrived and the two of you immediately clicked. You, Ann, and he used to spend multiple hours a day with each other, playing tag at the beach, hide-and-go-seek at the vineyard, and racing across the fields at Moonlit Farm. He used to come home each day full of things to say about you. In fact, I recorded his exact words in my diary and have torn out this particular page and placed it in the same envelope in which you found this letter.
And then, that day when he left. . .all of you kids were so heart-broken. Even those three hurricanes were boo-hoo-hooing half the next fall! But I knew you'd be the first he'd bid farewell to. And somehow, I knew to send you a book through him, although I could very well have done it myself. But, in some strange way, God had figured out that as long as Jack gave it to you when you were so young and irresponsible, that Bible would drift right out of your memory.
But the good thing about this fact is, you'll find it at just the right time. Now, sweetheart, heed these instructions. I gave you that Bible the very day Jack left. You lost it before the year was over, I know. Truth is, I even know how you lost it, sweetheart.
You tucked it into your old nightstand drawer and forgot all about it. Then, when you got a new nightstand, you sent the old one down to the guest room (which is now Kai's room). I know no one ever even entered that room before Kai arrived. Simple and silly as it may seem, the Bible is hidden there in Kai's nightstand.
What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Go get it!
In the Lord Almighty, Pappy
PS: I love you, sweetheart, and always will. Keep lovin' them pink roses, Karen. Best wishes.
I smiled, even through my watery eyes, at his PS. Before heading down to Kai's room, I pulled out the diary page he'd written of and slowly ran my eyes over it.
Date: Summer 15
Dear diary,
Jack is so full of pep today! Apparently, something's happened with my sweetheart Karen, and the pup just won't be quiet about it! Here are his exact words, which I remember precisely.
Just as he walked through the door today, soaking wet from the storm rain, at about five o'clock, he blurted, "Today's the best day of my adult life!"
To this, I chuckled and said, "And why's that, son?"
"Well, Pappy, I kissed Karen. Right there in the pourin' rain, I just smooched her a good one! We were all wet 'cause we'd been dancin' that dance they dance at the Dancin' Festival [this means Harvest Festival in Jack language]! 'Ell, I finally told her that I like her, and she said the same thing back to me! And we were so wet! Golly, Pappy, it's the best day of my adult life! But it woulda been better if I'd remembered to hug her while we were kissin' like they do in Little Mermaid. . .Girls like that stuff don't they? I don't like it much, but anything for Karen! I love her so much, Pap! Yeh, we'll get married one day! Things 'll all be great when I'm like, twenty! Yeah, me and Karen 'll live right here in this house with you! It'll be fun, Pappy! Won't it? Oh, and Pappy, did I tell you how wet we were? It was pouring rain, Pap! We were so wet!"
Ah, the little rascal! I love 'im!
Signed, Joe Tandley
Before I could laugh right aloud, my mind filled with light, then darkness, then more light, and I had a paralyzing flashback.
~~
I was a little kid in the wine cellar with a tiny version of Jack. I looked scared and worried, but at the same time tramatized. Then I remembered that my dad had thrown me in here and locked the door, not realizing Jack was hiding in here. Suddenly Jack jumped into the air screeching something about a hole in the wall.
~~
It didn't take any more for me to remember everything else. Just as little Jack had described, we were wet from the rain, dancing with joy at our escape. Suddenly, we kissed. My first kiss. . .
I remembered it so vividly now. The texture of his lips, the touch of his fingertips upon my wet cheek, the dampness of my brown hair that clung so fiercely to my face.
Then I remembered the day that tiny Jack had left for home again. I remembered the Bible, the hug, the torn picture. . .
The torn picture!!
I leaped into the air and off my head, thundering down the stairs with the music still resonating from my bedroom. I flung Kai's bedroom door open without so much as a knock, relieved to see he was not present. Storming through the cluttered nightstand drawer, I finally found it.
The Bible, with its leather covering and light tissue paper pages, was immensely covered in dust. I quickly wiped it off and shook it away, to find the words "HOLY BIBLE" engraved in gold on the navy blue leather. I hastily leafed through it until coming upon an old wrinkled picture, with a line of torn white down the left side from where it had been ripped in half.
The picture held the adorable image of young Jack, brown eyes brimming with laughter, dimpled cheeks resounding joy. How I loved this picture, and how ashamed I was that I had lost it!
Without a second thought, I burst out of my house and down the vineyard trail with every intention of ending up at Moonlit Farm.
~oOoOoOo~
Amaya: Whew, that only took me FOREVER!! So sorry for the long wait!! Here's my personal thankies:
Harvestboy2001~I really appreciate your reviewing; you seriously have no idea. You're a writer I can admire and look up to, and draw inspiration from. Just know that!! Thanks for following this, and I pray that the long waits between updates hasn't shaken you off the story!!
anime26angel~You, also, are an admirable author, whose work I love more than you know!! Thanks much for your kind review. Keep your wonderful writing up, and keep up those encouraging reviews, too!! (as long as I'm halfway worthy of it)
CrazyGirl23~Thankies much for your uplifting review!! Seriously, you keep me going!!
fairyfriend~Thanks for stickin' with me through the long waits. You've truly been a help in my perseverance, and I can't thank you enough!! Stay with me!!
LCDM~You have absolutely no idea how much you and your sweet reviews mean to me!! I seriously don't think I could keep writing this without you!! Thanks for stickin' up for me. I know this kind of story is controversial with people who don't believe in Jesus' reserrection, or even existence. I can't tell you what kind of strength, encouragement, inspiration, and just plain sweetness you've given me!! Kisses, hugs, and love!!
Lynnika~You, too, have stuck with me through all the long waits. Thanks a million!! You rock!!
farmerboy~Thanks to you, too, for stayin' with me!! God bless you for reviewing!!
dancerchick77~Uh. . .thanks for the, um. . .review. . .I guess. . .LOL, it was weird and hard to understand, but hey, it's just a review, and I still thank ya for it!!
RedSonic~Ha, ha, ha, don't beat yourself up about the Elli/Maria thing!! LOL, JK, not like you would. Thanks for the review and all your help in keeping me going on the right path. You're a great author, and another person I can look up to. Keep up the great writing and helpful reviewing!!
Lyndsey~I can't thank you enough for that incredible review; I still can't get over it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!! Lots of hugs and kisses!!
So anyway, people, please shoot me a review real quick; it'll only take a second. Make sure you give me some constructive criticism!! Love you guys more than you know!! Have a great one!!