Todd the Spectacular Chp. 16 My Mother's Hankerchief

C h a p t e r  Si x t e e n

My Mother's Handkerchief 

The next evening, I read to Charlie, and pointed at the little words that actually seemed to fly off the page for me. Twice, I shut the book and gave up. My eyes were tired and my mind was preoccupied. He held a bowl of strawberries on his lap, and they were quite a red mess all over his face. I had found him in a meadow eating strawberries and so I had gone home, fetched a bowl, and told him that if he wanted I would read a little to him. My, did that boy love strawberries.

“Open ‘em,” he drawled, and took the book off my lap. “Look at that,” he laughed and pointed to a painting of a white rabbit, dressed in clothes and a pocket watch. He ate another strawberry. His eyes always had a look of drowsiness about them, almost tired, but I knew he wasn’t.

“That’s funny, isn’t it,” I said absentmindedly. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, his breathing a little heavier than usual. “You want any more berries?”

“No, that’s alright.”

“No,” he said, stretching out the word. “You want some,” and he grabbed a handful. “Don’t you? Don’t you?”

“I don’t want any more, Charlie.”

“Yes, you do,” he said in a sing-song voice and held them up to my face.

“Charlie!” I pushed his hands away. Then I sighed, knowing he had me at last. “Alright, alright. I do want some.”

Charlie laughed at me for ages and then dumped the bowl onto my lap. I didn’t resist; I just ate obediently.

We sat under a tree and read for a short while longer, until I finally released him and sat there alone.

It was a quiet evening and everyone was off doing something on their own. Yesterday had been a trying day, and I suppose I’m the kind of person who takes awhile to recover from such excitement. 

I left my spot under the tree and went out by the beach. There I found a rock and I sat in the quietness, the only sound I heard being the water swishing lightly.

It was hard taking on each long, hot, day and never fully knowing if Father was coming. And I realized that my mother’s birthday had passed three days ago, and I had not even remembered.

I was so busy running and playing, that I did not stop to spare a single thought about her. That made me angry, angry at myself for being thoughtless. I always felt guilt easier than my siblings did, and I never quite knew why. I felt a terrible sinking feeling inside of me. When I glanced around to make sure no one was listening or watching, I laid my head in my hand and blew out a long, tired exhale. And then my eyes felt glossy and I wiped them with a sunburned hand that just made it worse.

I didn’t bother to wipe away any more tears. My handkerchief had blown away into the wind somewhere and my hands and eyes burned. I cried, just a little. I was weary of pretending to be like my mother, because I knew I could never be. No, not ever. My mother was a special person, unlike anyone else in the world.

I heard a crunch of leaves. I twisted on the rock on which I sat, and at first didn’t see anything in the trees behind me. But then two crystal blue eyes peered back at me and my shoulders relaxed. “You don’t have to hide, Charlie. I could see your eyes anywhere.”

The boy grinned and walked over to me. “You’re crying.”

“Just a little.”

He smiled kindly and sat down next to me, dropping his head on his knuckles, his elbows propped up on his knees. His hair was wet.

“Have you swam again today?”

“Always do.” He picked at his finger repetitively. 

“Don’t, you’ll make it bleed.” I reached my hand over his and he made a stubborn grunting sound and turned away. 

“It’s fine,” he protested, lingering on the word in a slow sort of way.

I shrugged. “I was just trying to help. My mother always told me never to pick at hurt fingers.”

“But your mama’s dead, ain’t she?” he chortled. “Mine’s dead, too. Dead and gone.” He laughed and my face distorted with an irritation of which I had never felt, especially never towards Charlie. 

“Dead and gone, dead and gone,” he sang, and wagged his head with each word.

I turned away my face and together we sat, back to back, him singing under his breath and me looking straight ahead solemnly. “Do you mean to make people cry, Charlie?” I asked, in a still, serious tone.

“No,” he answered innocently. “I never made no one cry. Except for Pa, maybe. When he left ‘cause I was too stupid to love.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “You know that isn’t true. People don’t love other people based on how sharp they are.”

“Sharp?”

“Yes. Like a pencil.”

He chuckled and then he heard me sniffle and turned around, looking over my shoulder. “And you. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

“When you talked about your mother, it made me cry. Because then I thought of my own mother.”

“Oh,” he adjusted himself next to me. “Hey,” he gasped and pulled out a white cloth. “Look at this,” and he handed it to me.

“My handkerchief. Where did you find it?”

“Somewhere.”

My lips turned in a small smile and I held it in my hands and looked at it, wistfully. “It was my mother’s.”

And then Charlie took it away from me and wiped a tear away from my face, gently. “See, I can do it too,” he said.

I laughed softly. “Thank you very much, Charlie dear.”

He smiled and then set the handkerchief down beside me. “That’s what you did to me, ‘member?”

“Yes, I remember. I wiped away your tears because you were crying about…about the caterpillar. You were very heartbroken.”

He looked away and sighed. “Yes. ‘Cause I killed her, didn’t I?”

“She was just a little thing. But little things are no less important than big creatures, like deer or even rabbits.”

“You think God’s mad at me?”

“No, I don’t,” and I looked him in the eyes. “Thank you for being such a kind, dear friend to me.”

After another moment, Charlie walked away.

You see, Charlie was more than just a boy who loved to laugh and play. He understood sadness, perhaps more than others. He felt sadness more, too. But he always brightened up and he always wore a caring, tender smile that brought joy to everyone he met.

Those special sorts of moments only lasted so long, but were cherished forever and ever.

I put the handkerchief into my pocket and left.

Todd the Spectacular Chp. 15 Danger

hello everyone, I just wanted to say, that the published version of this book will be updated and there will be slight changes or differences in each chapter.  if you are enjoying the story, then check here every Tuesday! I will make a post when it is officially available to buy! 

C h a p t e r  F i f t e e n

Danger

The raft was going farther into the river and then—I squinted. “It’s sinking! Henry, it’s sinking!”

Without any thought or hesitation, Henry dove into the river like a wild dog.

“Henry!” I screamed after him. “You can’t go that far in!”

Artie was troubled. “There’s gators in those waters, and snakes.” He dashed off and dragged the old rowboat partly out of the woods and heaved it in front of me. “The water pressure gets too much for person that far in. He’ll drown if he goes any farther,” he said urgently, preparing the boat as speedily as he could.

“There’s only one paddle.”

“It’ll be fine, but I have to hurry. We can’t swim that far in; the river’s too strong.” He gave me one last worried look and pushed the boat into the water with a forceful effort, small waves lapping against the sides.

“Henry, the boat!” I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled. And then Henry suddenly fell under. Was pulled under.

“Henry!” My hand flew to my mouth and I felt my lips shaking. I stood on the line where the sand met the river and I could do nothing but pray and hope that they would make it back. Artie dove into the water and after half a minute, plunged to the surface and pushed Henry into the boat.

But by the time they were adjusted again, they had lost sight of the raft.

Instead, Artie rowed back to shore. Henry came out shivering, his dark hair plastered to the sides of his face.

“Oh Henry,” I took off my sweater and wrapped it around his shoulders. “What happened? You—”

“A snake or some creature,” Artie said breathlessly. He wasn’t shivering like Henry, but was soaked to the skin all the same. I guessed he was used to things like that. “They rounded the bend.”

“How will we get them back? It-it’s sinking,” I said.

Henry appeared lost. He looked at Artie for answers but Artie had none to give.

“Wait, over here!” Claudia cried from a distance. “I see them! We have to follow them along the coast!”

I looked at the boys and then took off in a run toward the woods.

Henry, Artie, Claudia, and I carefully lifted up the boat and carried it through the woods, and we came out at a different place along the coast, a small beach where there were no bends. We could see everything, and my eyes, thankfully keen at this moment, found the little dot of a raft floating downriver and slowly going in a downward position, as greenish brown water was spilling over the top and pushing it under.

“Hey!” Felix waved his arms.

“No Felix, don’t!” I screamed back.

“You’ll fall in you idiot!” Artie hollered, and once more we hurt our backs by pushing that boat into the water with all of our might. Claudia stayed behind.

“Whoohoo!” Charlie followed suite and looked up and started howling at the sky.

“We’re the kings of the sea!” Felix laughed at us. 

“He’s being foolish,” Henry muttered angrily, rowing the boat with both of his hands. 

“Ha, ha, ha!” Charlie was just getting riled up more and more and so was Felix. I wanted to shout to them to calm down and be quiet, but I feared it would do no good.

Felix waved his arms like a scarecrow and sure enough, fell backwards into the water with a powerful splash.

I let out some sort of frustrated groaning sound that I didn’t know I was capable of. “Not again,” I despaired. 

“Don’t be a such a coward, Annabelle!” he choked, clinging to safety. I marveled at how he managed to reprimand me and in such a dangerous circumstance. 

“Oh Felix, you shouldn’t have—” I didn’t finish. I was far too upset and irritated and frightened all at once. Too many times had I seen someone almost drown in these waters.

Once the raft was nearly under water, both of the boys clung to it like wet rags. 

“Hurry up!” Felix demanded. “I’m holding on for dear life—” and he coughed up a mouthful of water.

Charlie looked a little scared, a little confused. I reached out my hand and he took it and I pulled him in. Felix was speechless for awhile. He didn’t know what he could say, I guess. I didn’t want him to think that any of us thought he was stupid. I had known how that felt before, and I dreaded any of my siblings to ever feel that way.

“Thank you,” Felix gave in. He looked down, not at any of us. He folded his arms over his chest and was still acting stubborn, but was on his way to humble soon.

We were silent the rest of the way back to shore and I could see that Henry’s arms were aching from the fast rowing, and that Artie and the others were cold and tired out from such a day.

“The was an adventure,” Felix said suddenly.

“It was,” came Artie’s voice. He stood to his feet, still wet and cold. “You know what you are?”

“Me?” Felix jabbed a finger to his chest. “Plucky.”

“Stupid. But,” and Artie let loose a small grin. “It is your birthday. So I’ll let this one slide.”

“Do you keep a record on me?” Felix cried.

“Always. As I do everyone.”

“You count each mishap and mistake of theirs?” I asked with amusement.

“Of course. You get too many tally marks and—” he drew a finger across his neck and made Felix frown. 

“That’s quite dark. I shall have to be more careful, then.”

“Please do. I don’t feel like risking my life again. And Charlie could’ve been hurt.”

“But he wasn’t,” I cut in, trying to make peace between the two. “So, let’s all relax and quell our tongues for a bit. Hm?”

“Alright,” Artie said and then walked away.

“Happy Birthday,” Claudia said coldly as Felix passed her. Felix couldn’t help himself. Just out of his own pride and spite, did he proclaim that today had been the “best, most adventurous birthday” he’d ever had. 

“I enjoyed every minute of it,” he said bitterly, like he was insulting us with striking remarks. I found it a little funny when he spat at Claudia, “I couldn’t ask for more fun. How’s that for a Happy Birthday?”

We suddenly all looked at each other.

And then we laughed and laughed like Felix would, bent over and pointing at one another, our fingers aiming at no one in particular. 

“It was a bit funny,” Henry admitted through a chortle.

“It was the best fun I’ve ever had.”

“I’m pleased that you’re alive, Felix, and that you enjoyed yourself through,” Henry said as he gave him a pat on the back which Felix longed for and cherished more than anything.

After that I guessed he was very exhausted and he didn’t talk much for the rest of the afternoon, but at last, when we had made arrangements to spend the night out in our field under the stars, did he roll over and whisper to me that he did, in fact, enjoy the cake.

“But,” he added with a grin, “I much liked it all over your face, too.”

I rolled my eyes in a playful, older-sister way. “I’m glad. You’re fourteen now. Are you ready to be an adult?”

And he blew a raspberry in my face and rolled to the other side.

Todd the Spectacular Chp. 14 The Wild Ones

C h a p t e r  F o u r t e e n

The Wild Ones

When we left Mrs. Rivet’s house, I had completely forgotten about Felix’s birthday. When we got back to town, he and Henry were already upset about us disappearing for a day. Felix especially, though I tried to convince him I didn’t really forget about his birthday. 

“You did too.”

I sighed in defeat after my second attempt, and looked around for support but no one said a thing. Felix sat under a tree, his arms crossed stubbornly.

“I’m sorry, Felix. Really.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am sorry, I am,” I said in a pleading voice, feeling desperate. “I don’t like to forget things. I would never choose so.”

“You do too and I refuse to believe you. You’re just fibbing and won’t admit that I’m right and you’re wrong.” 

It took strength to push down the impatience that was rising inside me like a wave. “Felix,” I said in a strained voice, “I’ll make it up to you. We’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Henry and Artie nodded to confirm my oath.

Felix loosened his arms and sighed a long sigh like he always did. “Fine.”

“Good!” I exclaimed joyously. I turned back to the others. Claudia and Charlie were practicing some sort of handshake in the background. Artie and Henry looked at each other and chuckled. 

“But first, answer me this,” Felix stopped me. “Why don’t dinosaurs talk?”

“Hmm…” I turned back to the boys for support.

“Um,” Henry scratched his head. “I don’t know.”

Artie narrowed his eyes. “Cause, they’re dinosaurs, not people.”

“Why, Felix?” I asked him.

He said the answer through wheezing breaths. “Because they’re dead!” He fell back onto the grass and laughed until he gasped for air. 

Me and the others waited patiently for the boy to recover. When he was finished, I stepped forward.

“What do you want to do first?” I bent over and waited for Felix’s response. 

Felix cheered up rather swiftly after he had his laugh. I supposed he was no longer angry at us. “Can we have a mud fight? A really big one? With forts and bases and teams and everything? Oh, it’d be capital!”

“A mud fight…” I considered this and though I knew I had something else I had to attend to, I hoped I could join them when I was finished, because it did sound rather amusing and fun.

“That sounds inexplicably pleasurable and diverting, but I am afraid I cannot join you, not yet.”

I think Felix knew what I had in mind so he didn’t complain. In fact, he looked rather sly, like he had discovered some important secret.

I had made a quaint little chocolate cake with  a sugary glaze drizzling down the sides and the top of it. It wasn’t too nice to look at, as I had limited recourses in both ingredients and in knowledge to make a cake. But I prayed Felix wouldn’t be too disappointed.

When I got to our meadow, as I guessed they would certainly be there, the war was nearing its finish. I had the cake in a basket under a cloth and I held it under my arms securely. I approached the children and set it down on the ground. 

“Did you have a nice mud fight?” I asked them good-naturedly, feeling a little speck of jealously that I tried to push away.

They were covered, and I mean covered in thick dark mud. I could barely see a clean part of them, except their eyes. Their eyes were shining with glee and delight.

“Claudia!” I cried in bafflement when I saw my usually “prim and tidy” sister overtaken by the mud. “After seeing you covered in such mud I will be surprised at nothing.”

“It’s not that bad,” she came to me and I rightly backed up, my hands prepared for defense. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m much too clean and you’re much too dirty.”

Claudia crossed her arms like a mad hen.

“I’m clean, so I might as well stay so.”

“Prissy, prissy Annabelle,” Felix jibed, wagging his head side to side with each word.

“Prissy?” I shook my head with disproval. “If you don’t wash up then who will eat the cake?”

I turned around and saw Artie put down a clump of mud that I knew had been meant for me. I frowned at him, but I meant no sore feelings. “I’m going down to the river.”

“Come on then,” Henry called Felix and Claudia. Henry fell in step beside me. 

I was still recovering from the sight of their clothes, their hair—everything on them. To think my well-brought up English brothers and sister—I wasn’t mad, of course. It was Felix’s birthday. I wanted him to have a day of fun. I was just surprised. Especially at Henry.

“What flavor?” he nodded to the basket.

“Chocolate with a surgery glaze.”

Henry looked content. “Since when have you been able to cook, Annabelle?”

My lips froze and I didn’t answer right yet. It felt so strange that Henry called me Annabelle now. Everyone did. Hardly ever was I called Ingrid. It felt like a sign. A symbol of some sort. Henry was letting go of Mother by calling me by my name. He wasn’t hiding from the pain behind the name Ingrid. He was facing it instead. He was changing. He wasn’t so shut up and hurt anymore. He seemed happier. And I hoped he truly was.

“Um…Miss Cate,” I said, referring to the children’s old schoolteacher back at home.

We came to the miniature beach near Charlie’s big tree, and right away they ran to the river and splashed each other clean.

“We’re the wild ones,” I whispered to myself. “We’re the ones who play in the woods and throw mud at each other and then laugh about it.” I sat down on the sand and spread a white, partly torn piece of fabric on the ground. I had found it just lying in the upstairs of the Lovingale, and I didn’t have anything else to use just then.

“If Aunt Vicky could only see us now,” I sighed and set up the cake. “And she isn’t even our aunt. Simply an old mother of Father’s business friend from thirty years ago. She’s tried to practically raise us even though she has no right.” I didn’t know who I was talking to. I was alone. The children were by the river.

I shook my head and finished. “Come over here and cut the cake!” I hollered to Henry.

They dashed over and Felix rubbed his hands together gingerly and nearly hovered over it.

“You must sit down right so we can all fit,” I advised. But then I looked down at the basket. 

“Where’s the knife and forks?”

“I don’t know, you were in charge,” Henry shot back fiery. In that moment, I was sure the sun was spitefully shining on me the hardest, and I was so hot and so tired. But after a moment of mourning, I was on my feet to go down the long path through the woods to fetch silverware.

“You don’t really mean to go all the way down,” Artie asked as if I were crazy. He noticed the weariness held in my expression.

“Well…I…” I didn’t finished.

Felix grinned cheekily.

Don’t you dare. 

“Felix Eli Phoenix—” I stopped. 

“Charlie, I give you the pleasure,” he said with charm, waving his hands with a flourish, like he had seen the ringmasters do at the circus.

Charlie’s eyes lit up and he reached his palm into the cake and ripped off a big clump of it with his hand. He ate it with his fingers and I gaped at him, astonishingly.

“Wh-what? Wait—” I stuttered, unsure of what to do. “My cake,” I sighed tragically.

Felix followed his lead and soon all of them were eating the cake with their hands, right back to filthy again, all of them except Henry and me.

“Well, you had a mud fight with your hands, didn’t you?” I asked my brother. “I guess some cake wouldn’t hurt.”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

So Henry and I dug in sharply along with the others, and we nearly devoured that cake, but someone got an idea, and before I knew it, we were throwing those clumps of cake at each other and I dived behind a tree for cover.

A wet, hard-packed fistful of sand exploded against my back and I looked up at Charlie who was dangling off a branch of the tree I was near. In his pockets, he had wet sand and he was balling them in his palms like a snowball.

“How did you get up there so fast?”

“You’d better run away!” he taunted and another one hit me.

The others caught on and in an instant the cake fight had blossomed into a lovely “sand-ball” battle.

We were worn out after that. Felix loved the cake, so I didn’t much mind the price I had to pay, especially with Felix having so much fun.

And I must admit, it was a bit fun.

We laid side by side in a long stretch on the sand. First me, then Charlie, then Claudia and Henry, and at the end Felix and Artie.

Charlie inhaled deeply and stared up into the blue sky, the same blueness as that of his eyes. Charlie was one to dream, just like me. I could tell it as I watched him look into the sky.

“I take it that you like the clouds,” I stated softly, so the others wouldn’t hear. “I like that you like the stars and the clouds,” and I looked up at the sky too.

“Mama’s up there is what I’ve figured,” he said in a firm, decided voice. “Cause if she’s not, then where could she be?” His voice drifted off dreamily at the question.

“I…I’m not entirely sure.”

“Mama’s up there with the angels.”

“Mine is, too,” I said wistfully, and he looked at me. 

“Maybe they’re friends.”

“Maybe.”

“So!” Felix sat up like he was raised from the dead and made me flinch. “What’ll we do now?”

Henry yawned. “Is it still your birthday?”

Felix crossed his arms and towered over Henry, falling asleep on the ground. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

“Would you be so divine as to tell us our next—undertaking?” I asked, my hands crossed behind my head.

Felix looked excited again, and I dreaded what was to follow. “I want to build a raft,” he declared honorably. “We can use those bamboo stalks over there, and some sort of rope if we have it.”

For a minute, I held a glimmer of hope in my chest that we wouldn’t find any rope, and instead the children would clean themselves again and we would do some relaxing thing. But that was all in vain.

“I have rope,” Charlie said mischievously, almost immediately, and pulled a thin but long rope out of his fabric satchel that he had brought to the beach. Some of that rope was frayed and worn, and it looked so rough it would tear one’s hands, to be sure.

“Oh Charlie,” I sighed, and then remembered how I said that nothing would surprise me after the mud fight. “How is it that you happen to have a rope in your bag this very moment?” I had thought I’d somehow get out of this next event, but now I knew that I must proceed. I laughed my sleepiness away and Felix and Charlie went right to work.

I sat down next to Artie and watched him flick the sand with his finger and stare at nothing in particular. 

“How did he even fit that rope in that raggedly satchel?”

“He fits a lot of things,” Artie said blankly. “He fits whole worlds in there.”

“Come again?”

Artie looked at me very seriously. “It’s true. He pulls out a piece of cloth, ties it around his neck, and all the sudden he’s a hero in a different dimension. All the sudden we’re realms apart.”

“Do you ever join him?”

Artie looked too miserable to respond just then. “I’m not as wild as Charlie is.”

“I think you are.”

“Humph,” was his kind reply, accompanied by a lazy shrug. 

“I think we all are,” and I looked ahead to the river. “All of us are born with it. That one wild streak.” My eyes grazed passed his again and back to the river. “We mustn’t lose that about us.”

It was almost an eternity before he spoke, and when he did, he brought up Mrs. Rivet again, so I went along with it.

“Mrs. Rivet was very kind yesterday,” I said tenderly, hoping that I sounded as sincere as I felt.

“I knew you’d like her. You know, she never comes down.” He locked his eyes with me and appeared anxious for a second. “Never.”

“Really?”

“I think she’s afraid of what others will think. The last time she came down to the village a few boys stared at her when she walked by, snickering and whispering, “Ribbit, ribbit,” and jumped like a frog, trying to make fun.”

“How distasteful,” I said bitterly. “There’s not many children here, is there?”

“Not too many. Me and Charlie here pretty much run this place anyway.”

I glanced at the boys and it looked like they were almost finished. It had taken a lot of time, but the makeshift bamboo raft didn’t look that bad. Henry was in charge of the paddles, which were already laying in a corner near an old rowboat that Artie said had been there “longer than forever.”

Sometime while I conversed with Artie and my eyes were diverted, Felix and Charlie had balanced on the raft, and weren’t aware of the fact that it was slowly drifting away.

I looked their way and blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing a momentary trick on me, hoping that they were playing tricks on me.

“Felix, you’re drifting!” I sat up and cried in alarm, my finger poking the air in front of me.

Felix looked back at me and gasped, then chuckled sheepishly. “Oh! Um…what can we do?” he cried, his figure becoming smaller and smaller. He panicked a little but I could see and hear Charlie laughing himself into the next century, sitting on the edge, taunting and pointing at us. 

I ran to the surface, ankle deep. “Charlie, don’t, you’ll fall in!”