This is the beginning of a story, it is all I have. |
She was of average height and built, standing just shy of 5'7. But standing in the middle of the valley made her feel so miniscule. She watched as the gusts of wind blew the grass in such a way that it was a wonder to her that it stayed rooted into the earth at all. As EmmaLynn walked down towards her new home she wondered if her life could become any worse. Being sixteen years old was hard enough without your parents up and moving you out of the world you grew up knowing and sticking you down in the middle of nowhere. She wondered if they were cozy lounging around in their apartment without her. She still couldn't understand why they thought she needed a summer in the country to make her grow up. Hah, what did they know? She was more of a grown-up than most might think. Just because her parents didn't understand her why did that give them the right to cast her aside. As EmmaLynn neared the rickety looking old wood house she winced. “Here?” she asked. “Yep,” came the reply from the tall, brunette whom was leading EmmaLynn through the front gate, “this is home.” Once again Em couldn't fathom how this woman dressed in dirty, faded blue jeans and an old t-shirt could be her mother's sister. They were from different worlds. Em could not even picture her Mom dwelling in such a backwoods atmosphere. Aunt Jess must have missed the boat out of this place, that could be the only plausible conclusion. “Right this way,” Aunt Jess pointed, “I put you in the old attic room, if it wasn't so small I'd have had it for my own. It has the best view, the only real flaw is that you'll have to come down the stairs to use the bathroom. Is that ok?” EmmaLynn rolled her eyes, “I'm just glad this place has indoor plumbing.” “You reminded me of your mother right then, rolling your eyes like that. She used to do it all the time, really drove the rest of us crazy.” Wow Em thought Mom always gets after me for doing that and she used to do it to. Now if that wasn't a true hypocrite for you. Well Mom obviously wasn't a perfect child, maybe she had other flaws that Aunt Jess would tell about. Wouldn't that be a grand homecoming gift to throw in her mother's face! As they reached the top of the stairs Em looked around, the whole third floor consisted of the single room. The roof slanted rather severely on two sides and a dinky square window stood facing the landing. On first glance she was sure her bathroom back home was bigger that this closet of a room. Aunt Jess set Em's suitcase down on the small bed that was smashed up against one of the slanting walls and then headed back down the stairs. “I'll give you time to settle in, then we can do chores together.” “Work,” Em muttered. Already she's putting me to work before I've barely been here an hour. It just wasn't fair that her whole life was being thrown upside down. What did I do to deserve this? I'm not a bad kid, just unlucky. Sighing she lay back on the creaky old mattress and closed her eyes. Summers don't last forever, I only have to survive three months and then I'll be able to return to my friends. ***** A half hour after Jess had left EmmaLynn to unpack she came back up the stairs to check on her. She found her sound asleep on the bed. Poor little tyke. Hopefully she didn't know how completely and cruelly her parents had left her. She just couldn't believe her own sister being so heartless and caring so little about the feelings of her own child. Jess went out and did the chores, feeding the horses and bum calves took little thought so she let her mind wander back through the years. Jess had grown up adoring her older sister Margaret. What ever Marge did most assuredly little Jess would be right there following in her footsteps. But the time and years had separated them so completely. Now Margaret worked for a big firm in the city where Jess stayed to run the family ranch. How time had changed everything. It will be different with EmmaLynn, I'll show her how to love the land and the animals like her mom did once. This place is her inheritance as much as it is mine. Oh if only the pages of history's book could be rewritten. |