A Child
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She wished her father had never brought that foul man back when he had left. The life he now lived had to be better than the one he left her to live. Now she lived the life of an unmarried woman at nineteen, taking care of an old woman with no will and the one thing the stranger had left in his wake.
Susan Bookman
I am a married mom of two and grandmother of six. I have wanted to write since I was a child and it was not until I started blogging that I realized I wanted to write stories. I want to use my imagination and take people on a journey, perhaps to scare them, make them happy, to make them feel.
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A Child - Susan Bookman
A Child
Susan Bookman
Published by Susan Bookman at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Susan Bookman
A Child
Chapter one
Emily knew what her morning would be like when she opened her eyes. The sun struggled to find its way into her dark room and she could hear the far off church bells ringing in the still grey morning. Still vacuous from sleep she groaned and rubbed her green eyes looking at the hearth as she turned her head. The room was cold and the fire had gone out and she hated the thought of putting her feet on the icy floor but knowing she could no longer disregard the feeble sounds coming from the other bed. Putting her long blond hair up in a bun, she pulled her wrap around her thin shoulders as she made her way through the small cottage to get wood for the fireplace.
The cottage was not a large place, but it was big enough for a small family. The windows were covered with curtains made by her mother and were covered in tiny roses. The floors were wooden and still had gleams of the patina, despite the traffic of well-worn boots. There were three bedrooms of medium size with sturdy wooden furniture shipped from her grandmother’s house when her parents were married, and the kitchen had a cook stove and a large table to hold a half dozen people. In the front room was a large fireplace that she and her mother would sit next to when the winters were rough and do mending, or read aloud from the classics.
Many hours and chores later she took her mother a cup of coffee and sighed as she looked at her lined face with the sadness seeping out of her eyes. Her mother had blond hair like Emily’s but her eyes were grey and her figure was slight. She hated the look she saw now and thought, no old woman; you will not sweep me into your discord! She looked away before the abyss she saw swept her into it.
Later as she walked through the meadow and headed to her favorite quiet place she reflected on her life and the turn it had taken just three short years earlier. As she looked out over the fields, empty but for one milk cow and the four horses, she pondered her life. She had still been in school, had friends and had a mother and a man, though mean she called father. Then he rode in on a warm spring day. Her father was in the field and her mother was in the garden when the dark stranger came into their lives. No one knew that this day would be the end of life, as known before. She shook her head and pushed the thoughts out of her head as she looked around her at the life struggling to grow under the thin layer of the early frost. New beginnings, she thought in anger as she drew her wrap tighter. Bitter beginnings and goodbye to the life that was so full of promise. She wished her father had never brought that foul man back when he had left. The life he now lived had to be better than the one he left her to live. Did he hate her too, she wondered. Was this her punishment for having thought her life was good? Should she have been more pious? The life she took for granted, thinking she would finish her schooling and go to another town, change the world, and see the things about which she had only dreamed. Now she lived the life of an unmarried woman at nineteen, taking care of an old woman with no will and the one thing the stranger left in his wake.
When supper was over, she led her mother into the warm kitchen and drew her into the tub of water she prepared for her. She scrubbed her mother’s hair and tried to talk to her. That was like talking to a child, but at least it was a human. She still could not break through the wall behind which she had retreated. Perhaps she should not be so bitter to a thing that used to hold her and stroke her face with much love. Who knew how much damage the stranger did to her mother or how much it cost her to do the thing she did. She pondered her mother’s decision and how a stranger could take someone’s heart the way her mother‘s was taken. Her eyes rested briefly on the small hump on the top of the hill and wondered if her mother thought about what lay under the earth? Was what was gone longed for? Did she know her life would change irreparably on that fateful day?
Thankfully when her bath was over it was time to take care of the other one so she could put her to bed and have the rest of the night to mull over her thoughts. She went into the front room and stared at the other one. The chair that held her dwarfed the child’s tiny body, the straps keeping her up were tangled, and she had slipped too far in the seat. She crossed the small room, unbuckled the straps, and caught the slipping child. The small child who was her half-sister looked into her eyes and Emily