THE GIFT
By
Jan Pruatt (aka SnorriKid)
In the quiet of the house, late afternoon shadows lengthened as Letitia Lynch, seven summers old, swung her legs at the chair of her maple writing desk. The wool of her new plaid skirt scratched her bare thighs. Yet she was too deep into her project to care. Her silky long blonde locks gently curled over her small shoulders and created a tent around her sweet face. She neatly pasted a montage of family pictures into the new scrapbook Auntie Diana had given her for Valentine’s Day. Letitia felt she shouldn’t enjoy such a fun gift on a day filled with unusual sadness.
Smiling back at her from the collage were a myriad of relatives from her Uncle Terry and his wife, her Aunt Diana and Uncle Mart, her maternal gram and grampy and of course, Aunt Trixie and Uncle Jim, Uncle Brian and Aunt Honey and their kids, her cousins. And last but not least Auntie Kerrie and Uncle Bobby and Auntie Kellie. She tried to feel cheered but numbness had settled around her heart.
She paused, and sighed, deciding the color scheme of the page. Then, choosing chocolate brown and flashy pink cardstock she drew forty nine heart shapes with the dye-cut, one of several gifts from her Aunties Honey and Trixie. They weren’t really her aunts but close friends with Aunt Di and Letitia loved them all.
“Two times two”, she chanted, softly out loud, “is four. Four times four is sixteen. Six times six is thirty-six; seven times seven is forty-nine.”
Sweeping the glue stick over the hearts she carefully arranged them, first brown, then pink, around a picture of a middle aged man, dark as she was fair, yet sharing the same violet eyes. She numbered each heart until she reached forty-nine, one for each year of his life.
Instead of pasting the page into the scrapbook, she reached for another gift, a heart-shaped candy box about the size of the page. She dumped the chocolates into a drawer of the desk. Next she placed the items from a paper sack into the box. In the middle she placed a very ripe banana, close to it a stick of cinnamon flavored gum (his favorite she knew), two peanuts to snuggle the gum, all of which she covered with four small pink and white napkins left over from the party. On top of it all she patted into place a tiny key with a white, scalloppy tag that read - “To my heart”. She taped the box shut, glued the picture of the dark - haired gentlemen onto the top of the box and admired her handy work.
From a drawer in the maple desk she withdrew a pink faux carnation, its petals and green leaves flattened from sitting underneath the dictionary for so long. Letitia sniffed it and breathed in the mustiness.
She then pulled on the new red cardigan that matched the crimson of the plaid. She picked up the photographed treasure, hugged it to her chest and walked to the door of her room. Peeking out, up and down the hallway, she quietly closed the door and tiptoed to the bathroom door. She heard the shower running and knew her mom wouldn’t miss her for awhile.
The carpeted stairs muffled her descent and she quickly crossed to the mahogany arched front door and slipped outside. It was growing dark. With purpose, Letitia followed the side walk the two short blocks to the cemetery, her black patent leathers beating a tattoo in time with her heart.
She passed a number of flat headstones, then one newer than the others. Extending six feet from it, blocks of green grass protruded slightly above ground level. Dry-eyed, Letitia read the name and dates.
Lawrence Lynch
“beloved husband, father, friend”
Born - Jan. 15, 1942
Died - Feb. 14, 1991
She smiled at the face in the photo, kissed each cheek and positioned the box to the left of the inscription. She stood a moment as though in prayer, placed the carnation on top of the box and, turning on her heel, strode towards home. Darkness descended and no street lights showed her the way. Upon arriving back at the massive mahogany arch, she found the house dark, too.
Panic seized her as she ran up the front steps and through the door into the darkened entryway. Her mom, wrapping a towel around her head, groped her way down the stairs, her terry cloth robe fluttering around her ankles.
“Letitia! Is that you, dear!”
“Why is it so dark?” came the girl’s reply.
“There’s been a power outage. Don’t be frightened. I’m here now.”
Letitia felt her mother’s arms embrace her, her fragrance envelope her and knew she was safe.
“Come inside, Tish, and let’s build a fire. I can dry my hair and we’ll roast hot dogs and pop popcorn.”
Letitia looked into her mother’s face, saw a familiar sparkle beginning in her grey eyes as though a cloud were passing and the sun would soon shine again.
Soon Jane had a fire going in the huge family room, its windows facing a greenbelt of firs and maples, dim now in the darkness. Jane pulled an afghan off on of the leather couches and snuggled it around Letitia. Letitia settled into the deep cushioned carpet, the warmth of the wool embracing her. With legs crossed she hunkered her shoulders and took the offered hotdog on a stick and held it over the open fire.
“Just like camping out,” Jane commented.
Letitia smiled at her mom and admired her long blonde hair, similar in color to Letitia’s, drying in the brightness of the flame.
“Your Daddy would have loved this moment.”
A tear began to roll down Letitia’s pretty face. Her mom put an arm around her blanketed shoulder and pulled her close. “I know you miss him so much and so do I. Yet, we can remember all the good times we had together. We can look at the scrapbook you were working on earlier today and plan a time when we can go and visit your Gramma and Grampy Lynch. They’d love to see you again soon.”
Letitia nodded and wiped the back of her free hand across her wet face.
“How’s the ‘dog coming? “
“It’s getting there. Do we have marshmallows, too? I’d rather do them than popcorn.”
“We’ll see what we can scrounge up.” Jane lit a candle. “I’ll look after we finish here.”
Letitia sipped an apple juice through a straw in the top of the box. “And maybe we can read, too. I have a new Fourth Floor book I got at the library a couple of days ago.”
“Oh, which one this time?”
Letitia was into a new series about two sets of twins who solve mysteries. “This one is called The Disappearing Parrot Trick.”
“Well, that’s a great title. We should be able to read by the fire with the help of an oil lamp. I’ll find one for each of us.” She finished her hotdog and licked the mustard from her fingers. “So much for napkins!” She laughed.
“I’ll help you, Mom. I need to get my book, anyway.”
They shrugged off their blanket shawls and took a candle to the kitchen where Jane found two oil lamps in an upper cupboard. She lit them and gave one to Letitia, cautioning her not to trip on the stairs. Then, while Letitia mustered the stairs, her mom rummaged about for the marshmallows and the other somemores ingredients.
In five minutes they met again in front of the massive stone fireplace and settled again on cushions with their throws around them.
“I don’t care if the power stays off all night,” declared Letitia. “This is so much fun, Mom.”
Jane sighed and murmured, “Yes.” She had tied a white ribbon around her dried hair to keep it out of her face. Letitia admired her mom’s more casual look this evening. She liked it better this way than the more severe roll she usually wore.
“Oh, look,” Letitia glanced out the shadeless windows where it had begun to snow. The fir trees began to take shape under their first dusting of falling powder. “It’s so pretty.”
“Just like you, Tish.” Her mom was looking at her in the same way Letitia had been looking at Jane.
“I love you, Tish.”
“I love you, Mommy.”
CWP 1 - Happy Holidays, 2004 - a new outfit -- Letitia’s red plaid skirt & red cardigan
CWP 2 - Back to School, 2005 - plaid - Letitia’s plaid skirt
CWP 3 - Happy Holidays, 2005 - scrapbook - the one she’s working on
CWP 4 - Love and Other Oddities - candy box deceptively full of something really healthy - banana
CWP 5 - Father Figures, Leaders and Heroes - ugly/cheesy plastic flowers - she puts on top of the candy box
CWP 6 - The Wild and Wacky Un-holiday - a power outage - occurs upon her return home
Special - Happy 5th Anniversary - a photo montage - from the scrapbook
Special - 6 Fabulous Years - shower - where her mom is when Letitia goes out
Special - 7th Anniversary - 7, something in multiples - 7 x 7 = 49 the age of her father at the time of his death
Book title with word “parrot” in it - The Disappearance of the Parrot Tricks by David A. Adler, Letitia’s book she gets from the library and one in the Fourth Floor series
Author’s Note: This is the Jixemitri 7th Anniversary CWP -- Dignity, Modesty, Decorum. This story contains 1,406 words & is rated blue.
No comments:
Post a Comment