\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1305716-Sometimes-Feathers-chapter-4
Item Icon
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1305716
4th chapter
Chapter 4
Jenny Anyway?


  Fenton awoke to a gentle rapping on his door, and the soothing sound of his mother’s voice beckoning him to breakfast. He now noticed the smells, the smell of eggs and bacon, the smell of real breakfast! Fenton was used to breakfast meaning cereal, hot or cold. Those were his usual choices, his mother always said, “Breakfast is such frippery. Who needs to start the day off with a mess?” So Fenton was not accustomed to such wonderful smells in the morning, to put it bluntly, Fenton wasn’t too familiar with good smells coming from the kitchen. His was mother was a poor cook to put it mildly. She didn’t take well to the kitchen, and the kitchen didn’t take well to her.

  Fenton went to the bathroom, and paid little attention to the wonderful bottles on the shelves. No small feat for such a curious boy, but at the moment, stomach was ruling over mind. He glanced out the window as he was drying his hands, he spotted Krinks, walking through the main yard, on three legs. Curled around his front left arm, were a small pitchfork, and a bucket. He walked along, with a strange hop. He may be able to speak, but his body was still pure cat.

  He hopped down the stairs and into the small dining room off the kitchen. He turned into the doorway, and on the table set a meal, almost as elaborate as last night’s supper. Piled high on plates, were pancakes and waffles, another plate held a great mound of bacon and sausages, yet another filled with scrambled eggs. Fenton’s eyes opened wide at the sight of this meal. “Fenton, would like a bowl for your cereal?” his mother asked.

  “Huh” was all that he could get out of his mouth. “Cereal!? I don’t want any cereal!!” Fenton yelled inside his head, but “huh” was all that came out. “All that he ever eats for breakfast is cereal.” Bette exclaimed. “That was the only choice that I ever had” Fenton said to himself. “I think I would like some bacon and eggs,” Fenton said. “Fenton dear, are you sure?” his mother asked. “All you ever eat is cereal”. Fenton as if he had ever had the chance, simply stated “I think I will try some bacon and eggs today” a wry smile coming across his face. “If that is what the boy wants” Mrs. Wagonblast interjected “that’s what the dear will have”. She then proceeds to fill a plate with some of the eggs, a few strips of bacon, and a pair of sausages. 

  He noticed that Uncle Jasper was absent from the table, and asked where he was. “He went out to have breakfast with your father,  he has a lot of work to do today” his mother explained. “We probably won’t see him until tomorrow morning, is what he said”.


  After breakfast, Fenton wondered what there was that he could do. He thought of Krinks and where a cat would be going with a pitchfork and a bucket, and what he would be doing with them in the first place. He asked his mother, “Mom, can I go and look around the beach a little bit?” “I suppose if it wouldn’t be in the way, if it is okay with Mrs. Wagonblast” was his mother’s answer. “Bette, I thought we discussed this” Mrs. Wagonblast, said in a somewhat negative tone. Fenton thought that meant no, but Mrs. Wagonblast continued. “Call me Winnie, and yes, I think it will do him some good to go outside, he is much too pale” she stated. “Okay, then go ahead and don’t get into any trouble honey,” his mother cautioned. “Okay, I won’t. I’ll see you later” Fenton said as headed out the door and down the steps, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

  When he hit the bottom step, and gazed towards the small beach at the far end of the yard, off towards the house that is built half on the water. He saw a shape on the beach moving around. “Wow that was easy” Fenton said to himself. He figured it would take him longer to find Krinks. He took off towards the beach, staying to the edges of the paths between the gardens, and the buildings. He wanted to see what Krinks was up to.

  As he got closer, he slid to the far side of the half on the water house. Now he could see that what he had seen from the bottom of the steps wasn’t Krinks, but a girl about his age. She was walking around on the beach, turning over rocks. Fenton thought that this was kind of a strange behavior for a girl, what was she doing that for. “You know you don’t have to spy on me” the girl said loudly, “ I saw you when you hid on the side of the house”. Fenton, his cover now blown, got out of his crouch, and walked slowly towards the girl.

  “What are you doing with those rocks?” Fenton asked. “Looking for baby crabs and eels,” She said matter of factly. “Why are you spying on me?” she asked firmly, lightly tapping one foot in the sand. “I, I thought you were Krinks”, Fenton stammered. “Do I look like a talking cat to you?” she said, still tapping that foot in the sand. “No, not at all, it’s just” Fenton couldn’t get the right words out. “I am not covered with fur, or have a tail,” she sung out, still tapping. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Fenton, Fenton Gilmour” he blurted out. “Oh, I’m Jenny, Jenny anyway” the now, not tapping her foot girl said. “Anyway what?” Fenton wanted to know. “Anyway is my last name silly” she giggled.


  “How do you know Krinks?” Jenny asked Fenton. “I met him yesterday, in my uncle’s yard. And I saw him this morning, leaving with a pitchfork and a bucket. I wanted to know what he was doing”. Fenton explained. “Oh, he was probably just going to dig some clams, he loves clams. How old are you Fenton?” Jenny said as she bent to flip over another stone. “Nine, nine years old. How do you dig a clam?” Fenton wondered. “You dig holes in the sand with the pitchfork until you find some” she said this with a tone, which made him feel like this was something he should have known. “You're nine? Why are you so small?”

  This was the first time Fenton had heard this asked that way. Not looking at him like he was weird, but just wanted to know. “I don’t know. Just a little bit shorter than small is what I am” Fenton, said this almost proud of being small. He had never felt like that before. “Oh” was all that Jenny had to say about that. Fenton and Jenny walked along the small rocky beach flipping stones. For the first time in his life, Fenton didn’t feel like an outcast with someone his own age. 

  As they walked along Fenton explained to Jenny how he had come about to wind up staying with Uncle Jasper for a while. All about the fire, and his father. He wanted to tell her all about the suitcases and telescope, but held back. He wasn’t supposed to have touched anything, so he better keep mum he figured. “Let’s go and find Krinks” Fenton shot out, sort of in the form of a question. “It won’t be hard, it’s low tide, and I know where he digs,” Jenny proclaimed. “Low tide?” Fenton didn’t have a clue what she meant.

  “Low tide, you know, when the water goes away. Haven’t you ever been out of the city?” Jenny shook her head. “My dad says it happens because someone in England keeps pulling out the big plug. Then someone else sees that it’s out, then they fill it up again.” she want on, “he says if he ever finds the dirty bird that is pulling the plug, he’ll be sorry”. “See, there he is!” Jenny pointed Krinks out to Fenton.  There he was, still wearing his cap, and only his bottom half sticking out from the sand.

They walked up behind Krinks, looking at his back legs, struggling mightily against the wet sand, in a battle to hold him from fully plunging into the hole he was working. They stood above him for a few moments, Fenton was wondering just what he was doing. He had his answer a second later, as Krinks struggled to get his front half out of the whole. In his mouth, a clam with a spout, the clam let go with a stream of water in Fenton’s direction.


  Krinks dropped the clam out of his mouth, startled he said, “mrrroow don’t prrr do mmrrrhat”. “Mmmyou could prrrr mreally ppprrr ssscarre a ppprrrrson!” Fenton, still amazed at the fact that Krinks could talk said, “I’m sorry Krinks, didn’t mean to scare you”. “Well meow that ppprru mmmaarre here. Prrrrhaps, mmmuu could prrdo me-ow a favorrrr” Krinks asked as he furiously tried work his face free of sand. “You want us to dig clams for you, don’t you” Jenny said to Krinks in a tone that suggested that she had been this route before. “Mmmmonly if mmmrru mwant to”, Krinks said while shaking his front paws to rid them of sand. “I’ll dig for some clams” Fenton said excitedly". If someone would show me how!”

  Fenton wasn’t exactly sure of the clam digging procedure. “I’ll show you once, but I am not spending my whole morning digging clams for that cat!” said Jenny as she picked the pitchfork up off of the sand and poked it into the sand. She twisted the pitchfork in the wet ground and pulled up a forkful of the sand, she repeated the process in the same hole a few times, until eventually she turned the pile and came across another of the squirting clams. Which was quickly scooped up and placed in the bucket by Krinks.

  She handed the pitchfork to Fenton, and told him that was how it was done. He took the pitchfork and twisted it into the sand just as Jenny had showed him. “Whew, this is harder than it looks” Fenton said as he struggled against the wet sand. “Mmmrust try prrr it, mmmmwith pawwws” Krinks was quick to point out. Fenton had to lean against the pitchfork with all of his weight (which while maybe not a lot, was all that he had). A lump of sand tumbled up, he did this a few times, until coming up with a clam. “Mmmery good. Prrrrhaps if meeeu both pppull, it mewould be prrr fassster” Krinks suggested. “I am not digging for you anymore Krinks. You suckered me into it too many times” Jenny said crossly. “C’mon Fenton, let’s get out of here, and let that crummy cat dig his own clams!” “Okay” Fenton said as laid the pitchfork down in the sand.

  “Where are we going” he wanted to know. “I dunno, around the beach,” Jenny said as she was walking away. “Plllease prrr don’t mmmgo, MmmI could ssstill prrr go mmmfor meeaah more clams” Krinks pleaded. “You’re gonna have to get them yourself, we have to go” Jenny said over her shoulder, as Fenton followed. “Mmmthanks, thank meeuu pppr for mmmnothing” Krinks cried out sarcastically as they strode down the beach ignoring him.

  “Follow me, I’ll show you something really neat”, as if just digging clams for a talking cat wasn’t enough. They walked through some of the [pilings that help up half of the house over the water, and through to the other side. There were tall grasses there, which grew to the edge of the water. In between were small pools of water that didn’t get sucked out when the drain plug was pulled. Jenny bent at the edge of the first pool, reached into the water and held a small shell out for Fenton to grab. He held his hand out and she placed the small shell in its center. He felt it tickling the center of his hand, and then it started to move. He moved his face closer to his hand, and looked in wonder at the small crab that was now poking his head and feet out from the shell. The whole thing moved, shell and all! “It’s a hermit crab, my dad says that they carry there own house around with them because nobody would want to live with them anyway” Jenny explained. Fenton was in a world that he had never known before, he had read about some of it, but never did he think he would be able to actually experience it. He only knew the city, and what the city held.
© Copyright 2007 Silentmiller (silentmiller at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1305716-Sometimes-Feathers-chapter-4