Disclaimer: I don't own any original characters, settings, ect. From "Holes." I am female, therefore, I am not Louis Sachar.
I am an aspiring author, and your critique would be much appriciated. :)
ABOUT THREE YEARS LATER
Katherine sat in a chair, staring into the mirror that sat, pressed up against the wall, on a cherry wood desk. She grabbed a brush from the smooth surface and began brushing her blond mane, smoothing the locks and twisting them up with pins. She stared at her reflection, how much older her features were, how her hair was expertly curled around her slender face, how her eyes were no longer the eyes of a playful child, but rather the deep, attentive, blue eyes of a young woman. She then wondered how only a few years of being here, at her stern aunt and uncle's estate, could affect her so much.
She wore a dress colored robin's egg blue, one of the many new dresses in her wardrobe that were far prettier than the ones she had worn back in Greenlake. She did still wish to wear the tattier, more comfortable ones, the ones her father had once given to her. Nora had objected to this; saying she must look like a proper young lady and not wear dirty clothes, and that she had, anyways, outgrown them.
She picked up a couple of books and a few pages of schoolwork, clutching them to her chest as she scurried down the stairs. She smelled breakfast as soon as she walked down the last step, and she could see Arielle in the kitchen, her straight auburn hair in a long braid down her back. Her violet eyes were affixed on beans and bacon; a breakfast that was often served in the Barlow Estate.
"Morning, Arielle."
Katherine's soft southern voice was so quiet and monotone that it went unnoticed for a few seconds, then the young maid noticed another presence in the room.
"Oh! Hello, Katherine. Up early, as always. How is your morning?"
"Wonderful. How is yours?"
Arielle paused for a moment. "Not so good, I'm afraid to say. Mrs. Barlow is in a pretty awful mood."
Katherine winced. She didn't want to be in the house when her aunt was in a spiteful mood... Not again.
"I'm... Going to school now, Arielle. It was nice having a conversation with you." She forced a little smile and flitted out of the kitchen, almost tripping over the skirts of her dress.
"School this early?" Arielle called after her. "Wait! At least have a bit of breakfast!"
The girl snagged two or three pieces of bacon and continued out the door, just as she heard Nora stomping down the stairs. "I think I'll walk around a bit before I head on to school. Goodbye!"
Cold air slapped Katherine's face as she ran outside, past the spacious porch and the azaleas tucking up their colorful flowers for fall. She bent down and laced one of her little brown boots, then swiftly walked down the little cobblestone path that ran through the peach orchard. Most of the peaches had been picked or had mottled and died, but a few hung low, still good, their fuzzy skin chilled from the air.
She took one and bit into it, a bit of juice drizzling down from her lips.
She smiled and continued her walk, thinking of how much she loved peaches.
She watched the sun rise in front of her, flushing the sky with light. The stars were fading to the blue sky, and the moon was nearly invisible. Dew sparkled on the green grass, throwing a white glitter. This time of morning was her favorite, an escape from everything else. It wasn't as special as her spot back home in the little Texas town with Trout, but it was definitely a beautiful haven.
Her boots met the dirt road leading into town, and her eyes met two boys in a field of wheat. Her walking didn't stop, but slowed. She didn't want to capture their attention. One of the boys, a sandy blond, she recognized; his name was Pace Robertson, and he went to school with her when he wasn't working on his daddy's farm. His sister, Juliette, was one of her new friends. The other boy was black, with short hair and a brown hat. Katherine gasped as she saw scarlet blood dripping from his nose.
Pace hit him.
The black boy stumbled back a bit, almost collapsing into a bed of golden wheat. "Stop," he murmured.
"'Git outta here!" Pace yelled. He kicked the other boy's knee.
"Stop!" Katherine screeched. She backed up a bit when Pace spun around. When he saw it was just her, he obliviously continued doing what he was doing. Katherine was utterly horrified.
Stopping him physically would be dumb and very unladylike. But, then again... She would be saving the black boy. Only her aunt Nora would really care if she were ladylike or not.
"I said stop!" she yelled, then jolted into the field. She sprang and pinned Pace to the ground, knocking him off the other boy. Pace almost swung his fist at the person on top of him, but then he opened his dark green eyes to see it was that little golden-haired girl he went to school with.
"You're a gu-rl," he drawled. "What is a prissy thing like you goin' around and knockin' me down?"
She spit on him.
The black boy let out a dry laugh, and Pace rolled out from under Katherine and stumbled off.
Katherine kneeled to the ground and took out an old handkerchief and wiped up the blood from under the boy's nose. His dark brown eyes met hers, and he smiled sweetly. (A smile Katherine would never, ever forget.)
"Thanks," he said.
"Your welcome," she replied lightly, shaking his calloused hand. "I'm Katherine."
Nora had told her never to talk to black people.
"Sam," he replied. "I needed some money, so I came to work for the Jamison's, down the road. Pace always goes and beats me up."
She bit her lip.
"I come from Greenlake, in Southern Texas," he said.
"Me, too," she whispered, obviously amazed.
"Greenlake...Maybe I'll go back there some time."
"I think I will, too," she said. Even though her father wasn't there, and she was too young to have a place of her own, she still had things, people, she had to get back to.
She paused for a moment, then stood up. "I need to be on my way. It was nice meeting you, Sam."
"Call me Sam the Onion Man," he said, grinning.
She raised an eyebrow.
"I like onions."
"...Oh."
"When I get back to Greenlake, I'll sell them."
She looked around, digging her toe into the dirt. "It's nice to plan for the future."
Aunt Nora also said black people don't have futures.
"Goodbye," she said softly, turning on her heel just slowly enough to see Sam wave.
Miss Georgia was cleaning her desk when Katherine arrived at the schoolhouse, awkwardly standing by herself, holding all her complete, correct homework and books that were far more advanced than any of the other children her age would read.
"Hello, Katherine. You're here early... again." Miss Georgia looked up and smiled, then continued wiping with a slightly damp cloth, picking up flower vases holding marigolds and setting them back down, shifting the positions of books, and wiping down the chalkboard that stretched across one wall.
"I wish I were a teacher," Katherine said, scanning the room with eager blue eyes.
She always said this.
"You know," said Miss Georgia. "Some women aren't much older than you when they begin teaching. Besides, you aren't learning much. You just seem to know... everything."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Katherine said through a grin. She walked up right beside the teacher's desk and stacked her papers in a neat pile in one corner. She pointed to a question written in neat script. "I wasn't sure about that one."
Miss Georgia peered at the page. "I believe it's right."
Katherine touched a marigold's tender, orange-yellow petal, and her eyes fixed on her favorite desk, the one right in front of where the older woman stood. She sat down, drumming the tips of her boots on the hardwood floor. Miss Georgia cleared her throat, causing Katherine to look at her inquiringly.
"Sweetheart, you've passed the final eighth grade exam with an excellent score, you're smarter than all the other students, and you're just about old enough to move on."
Katherine blinked, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Are you saying I can be a teacher?"
"Oh, you must do many more things, and you must be a bit older, but I'd say perhaps pretty soon, if that's what you wish to be."
"Aunt Nora says..."
"Katherine, does your aunt have any idea how smart you are, or is she just sending you here everyday?"
"I read books instead of doing my chores sometimes, and she says I should save books for school. I suppose she thinks I'm pretty smart. She doesn't exactly care about me, though."
"Hmm..."
"I want to be a teacher at Greenlake. There's an old schoolhouse there, and I don't think there's a schoolteacher there, at the moment."
"You have the potential, I'd say," Miss Georgia finished, just as Juliette Robertson stepped into the classroom.
As Katherine turned to greet her friend, she spotted Sam "the Onion Man" walking across the road.
"Greenlake...Maybe I'll go back there some time."