Strawberry Hill (Chapter 1)

Recommended for ages 8 and up. Raleia Pendle wishes she was from an earlier time when things are refined and proper and parents were involved in every aspect of her life, but she's stuck with hippies for parents. As the summer starts, she enters the town of Tidal, ME which hasn't changed much since a tidal wave hit it in 1911. And she stumbles across a mystery of a man who hasn't left his house since that fateful day. They say he killed his wife, but what's the truth about? Raliea will find out!

Transcript

Hello,

This is A.

LaFay with the start of a new story.

Strawberry Hill by me,

A.

LaFay.

1.

A White Wooden Gate.

That's all it was,

But Raya loved it.

The gate closed off a dirt driveway winding up a wooded hill.

The two latticework doors were wide enough to let a narrow car pass through.

Right next to the gate was a tall door with a heart-shaped window.

As her father,

Max,

Stopped the car to let a group of kids cross the road with their bicycles,

Raya imagined a young woman wearing a straw hat coming out of the gate with a basket of vegetables to sell in the village market.

Raya was fed up with riding along ugly highways in a smelly car,

Passing neon signs for sardine can hotels and grease-coated diners.

She was ready to bury herself if she had to see another in-your-face road sign with a little flag to celebrate the bicentennial.

She didn't want any silly 1976 quarters.

Forget all the stupid advertisements and annoying gimmicks.

Raya wanted a celebration that did the first Fourth of July some justice.

In her head,

She could see a small town at the turn of the 20th century.

People would carry flags and wear red,

White,

And blue sashes or straw hats with tri-colored ribbons.

That there would be a picnic in the park with enough food for an army and fireworks over the harbor.

Instead,

She had tidal mane.

Well,

Almost.

The 15-hour ride from Wisconsin was just about over.

Tiny,

Her mother,

Faced to the hems of the polka-dotted overalls she was working to make for the baby she cared in her belly.

Tiny had gone into a sewing fit when she hit her fifth month.

The only thing Raya had to show for her months in the womb was a picture of a pregnant Tiny standing in a massive peephole in front of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool at the Civil War Rights March on Washington.

Max mumbled his way through blowing in the wind as he hunched over the steering wheel of their 1960 Ambassador Station Wagon.

They didn't build cars with enough headroom for a man just over six feet seven inches.

He always looked like a giant wedged into a toy car.

Raya wouldn't have minded traveling all that way in a nice roomy train car,

Like the ones that took vacationing families to their beach homes before cars started dominating the roads.

Sure,

You could drive several hundred miles in a Model T,

But you'd end up with bugs in your teeth and you'd be spending half your time repairing tires.

Only people obsessed with the future bothered with automobiles back then.

Raya could have been lounging in a velvety seat or walking through the cars,

The chink-chink of the train running over rail joints beneath her feet.

But she was stuck inside a tin can with radio tires in a sticky vinyl back seat with the human worm,

Her little brother Tick,

Who couldn't sit still long enough to tie his own shoe.

He was always trying to do it while he was still moving,

Hopping on one foot and yanking on his shoestrings.

He usually fell.

Raya would laugh as he tumbled to the ground,

But she wasn't laughing now.

She was wondering about the house behind the fantastic gate.

Max had slowed the car to gawking speed as she turned to catch a glimpse of the house on the hill.

Through the trees all she could see was a single window framed by the crook of an oak.

It was a square window no bigger than a medicine cabinet.

She imagined it next to a fireplace,

Hot with burning logs,

The firelight quivering on an oriental rug with deep greens and reds.

The room would have real oak boards from floor to ceiling.

A rich man's paneling that soaked up the heat.

There would be shelves built on the wall with books bound in red,

Blue,

And brown leather.

The young woman would sit there at night,

A book open on her knee,

Her husband leaning against the couch where she sat,

Reading through the daily paper a second time.

It was their favorite place,

An enormous tree-strotted house,

Overlooking a tucked-away cove in a quiet main town people had forgotten.

"'Looks like a place you could enjoy getting lost in,

' her mom said as she stared into the trees,

Her hand resting on her inflated belly.

Tiny didn't need trees to get lost in.

She could lose her way in a grocery store.

In fact she had a few months back.

Ray had stepped into the next aisle for a can of tomato soup.

Tiny was gone when she got back.

After a mad search,

Ralia found Tiny staring at things in the condiment aisle.

Ralia was frantic,

Like a mom searching for her lost kid,

But Tiny just smiled and said,

"'Oh,

Hey,

Rayl.

I went to find some soy sauce.

I got a little wrapped up and gawking at things and forgot where I put the cart.

Did you know they actually can chicken and dumplings these days?

' Ralia handed Tiny the soup,

Then went to the car.

There was no use to talking to Tiny about these things.

She'd just say,

"'Relax,

Rayl.

It's only life.

'" Her mom had an internal compass with no needle,

And her dad was obsessed with her job.

He didn't see a beautiful rustic town nestled in the woods.

No.

His first comment about Tidal was,

"'And those trees are filled with hundreds of varieties of tree-fox and salamanders.

'" Max was a biologist who liked anything creepy,

Crawly,

And completely gross.

That summer,

He was a visiting professor teaching marine biology in Tidal.

"'I'll help you collect them,

Max,

' Tick said.

He was big on touching all the disgusting creatures their father studied.

Ralia preferred an antique store or a museum.

Her favorite place on the planet was the Smithsonian.

" A while back,

Max and Tiny dragged them there to check out the progress on a new civil rights exhibition.

It was still under construction,

So there wasn't anything to look at.

Max and Tiny decided to turn it into a day on their own event.

Ralia hated it when her parents went off and left her and Tick to wander around.

There was nothing worse than being left alone in a museum large enough to be a city,

Filled with strangers.

When Ralia was younger and Tiny still took Tick along with her and Max,

Ralia would be all excited about doing something on her own.

Then she'd turn a corner and find herself in a room the size of a football stadium.

In a state of sheer panic,

Ralia realized she could get lost forever inside it.

She spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to find her parents.

One time she found her parents in one of the art galleries.

Tiny and Max were lying on the floor staring at the ceiling as if they were watching the clouds as Tick played with a velvet rope surrounding a sculpture of a giant bronze egg.

Her parents looked as relaxed and calm as can be.

Ralia wanted to step on their stomachs.

Last year,

When Tick was still in the wander-than-panic stage,

Ralia finally realized all she had to do was pick a great exhibit and wait for Tiny and Max to find her.

They couldn't leave her there.

The first time she tried that strategy,

She found the exhibit on what she called the calm before the storm,

The quiet years before World War I.

The war was the beginning of the end in Ralia's mind.

It ruined everything by bringing in radios,

Tanks,

Airplanes,

And gas warfare.

The whole bloody mess led to World War II with its nuclear weapons and concentration camps.

From there it was all a quick push down the steep slope of the sixties where free love,

Anti-war protests,

And rock music ruled.

Ralia wanted none of it.

She longed for the quiet,

Civilized world of the turn of the century,

Captured in the photographs and artifacts collected in the exhibits to the Smithsonian.

It was a time when women could have the comforts of society,

Beautiful clothes,

Grand houses,

Considerate husbands,

Clear rules on how to act,

And demand their right to vote.

Houses had beautiful wrap-around porches with hanging swings and plenty of room for relatives to gather,

Drink lemonade,

And talk.

The last time Ralia saw her grandpa and grandma on a pendle,

It was at a roller derby and they had to shout over the whirring sounds of skates to be heard.

Ralia wished more than anything that she could be from a time where families did things like having picnics in the park or playing games in the parlor,

Not motoring across the country or attending anti-war demonstrations like her family.

Traveling through time wasn't an option,

So the next best things were books,

Museums,

And antique shops.

Ralia had a collection of history books that lined the baseboards of her room,

Knew the local antique vendors by name,

And took the bus to Madison once a month to tour the museums.

All these things were great,

But what she really wanted was to live in a historical village that kept everything the way it was 60-some years ago,

When life was still sane.

Max had promised her Tidal would be that kind of place.

He said the town got hit by a tidal wave way back in 1911.

So many people came to see what kind of damage the disaster had caused,

But the town decided to keep things as they were,

To pull in the tourists.

The idea of a town that was actually a living museum sounded too good to be true,

But the first three houses she saw on the road leading downtown didn't have TV antenna.

That meant no annoying idiot boxes.

There was hope for Tidal.

Seeing a sign for a grocery store tick worked up.

Let's get popsicles!

Tick lived on popsicles all summer,

So they went downtown to find the grocery store before seeking out their cottage.

It wasn't a maze of stores,

Streets,

And parking meters kind of downtown.

Only one long street and a two-bump hill with stores down either side,

And from the look of things,

Max had been right.

A street could have been plucked straight out of one of Ralia's history books.

Old-fashioned wooden signs dangled from the skinny men's arms.

Front windows sported the names of the stores and carefully printed letters.

Ralia didn't see one neon sign.

No little miniature credit card stickers cluttered up the glass in the doors.

There wasn't a single car parked on the street.

An old fire engine sat out in the front of the brick firehouse.

Its tires resembled the ones from old fengled bicycles,

All wooden spokes and bloated rubber.

Ralia was so excited she wanted to jump out of the car.

Her mind began to fill with all the things she hoped to find in the town's grocery store.

Maybe they'd have real ice boxes.

She hoped for the wooden kind with a door on top so the dry ice would hiss out in a cloud of cold steam when she opened the door.

They'd have nickel bottles of coke and ice cream in a wooden crock.

Closing her eyes,

Ralia felt the pudding sweet taste of old-fashioned ice cream melting on her tongue.

She looked around as her dad parked behind the store and her dream of visiting a real old town was shattered.

They had parked in a tar lot wedged between a stinky steel dumpster taller than their station wagon and a huge wooden box for goodwill donations.

Three other cars sat in the lot.

Ralia stepped out to stretch her legs.

Parking places lined the alley,

Each one filled with dingy,

Smelly,

Rusty,

Gas-guzzling cars.

Power lines crisscrossed like kite strings over them.

Tidal was just as modern as anywhere else.

This town just hit it better.

Get moving!

Tick pushed her away from the door so he could get out.

I got a whiz!

He raced for the door marked gents.

Colorful word choice,

Max said as he stepped out.

Shall we get supplies now or after we see the house?

Tiny asked rubbing her belly.

The baby had burped its way through Massachusetts after Tiny ate an onion burger.

Mother and child were at odds on the onion issue.

Tiny loved them.

The unborn baby hated them.

You do what you want,

But I'm going to bike there,

Ralia said,

Opening the door for her mom.

I don't want to see the inside of a car for another year.

Tiny walked inside saying,

I hear that.

I can come back for groceries later so we can go to the house before it gets dark.

Max put his hand over Ralia's head to hold the door.

The place you rented has no lights,

Ralia asked,

Imagining herself living in a house with kerosene lanterns hanging on the walls,

Their flames casting shimmering light over age-old photographs of long forgotten people.

Yes,

There are lights,

Max sighed.

We just need to find the fuse box.

They take out the fuses over the winter so they don't crack in the cold.

Ralia was disappointed until she looked around the store.

The wooden floor was red with a highly polished stain.

Wooden shelves,

Only head high,

Filled up the center of the store.

The floor-to-ceiling shelves along the walls with built-in glass cases sitting in front of them reminded her of a mercantile,

A real store where the clerks knew your entire family by name and rung up your purchase on a fancy iron register.

If she could look beyond the freeze-dried coffee,

Cellophane-wrapped cookies,

And fruit-boops,

She could make herself believe she was in a real mercantile to order the latest dress through the Sears and Roebuck catalog with the line-drawn illustrations for each item.

She imagined ordering flour by the pound,

Then having it weighed out by a grocer with a tie and an open vest who lived in the rooms overhead.

Where's the freezer?

Tick asked,

Pulling Ralia out of her daydream.

He trotted off in search of popsicles.

Want anything?

Tiny asked Ralia,

Resting a bag of pretzels on her stomach as she squeezed past to go to the canned foods aisle.

Grandma Hollister had actually officially named her Tiny because she was only one pound and twelve ounces when she was born.

For the most part,

The name still fit her.

She wore size three and a half shoes and her ring size was only a quarter larger.

She could wear the largest size of goranimals and fit her entire hand inside a jar of peanut butter to clean out the bottom.

But now,

With her big stomach and a waddling walk,

She looked like she was trying to shoplift a watermelon.

Most people thought she was still a kid when they first met her,

Until they realized she was carrying a kid of her own.

Max was right about the place.

Ralia said,

Coming up the aisle to stand next to her mother.

You could really pretend you were in another time.

Don't go trying too hard,

Tiny moved on to the pearl onions.

You've got to join the modern age sometime.

Mountain Family Robinson didn't.

It was Ralia's favorite movie,

The story of a family who left the big city to live in the mountains like pioneers.

Log cabin and all.

And they were almost devoured by wolves.

Tiny had to be by Ralia in that scene.

Ralia took after Max in the height department.

At five feet six inches,

She was already a foot taller than Tiny.

Look!

Tick came running around the corner with three bottles of pop in each hand.

The way the sunlight passed through the bottles and lit up the bright blue,

Orange,

And yellow liquids made Ralia think of the syrups they used to make soda water to make the first pop.

Tick said,

They've got the coolest flavors.

Blueberry,

Peach,

Even banana.

That sounds good.

Tiny found the banana and opened it right there.

There was no waiting when Tiny had a hinker for a certain taste.

Driving through Ohio,

They had to find a restaurant that served fruitless jello,

So she could have jello and onions.

Yuck!

Seeing Tiny take a long swig,

Ralia turned away.

Artificial banana flaring made her stomach turn.

Max came up with a basket so Tiny could offload the pretzels from her stomach,

And the cans of onions and peas she was holding with her right hand as she guzzled pop with her left.

Her hands were small,

But she knew how to grab things just right.

As a waitress,

She could balance four glasses in one hand.

It was like a magic trick,

And by the look of things,

Tick had picked up on it.

Tick put his pop in the basket,

Then ran to another corner of the store to keep up his search for unusual things.

That was his favorite part,

Going to a grocery store,

Finding something he had never eaten before.

Hey,

Max!

Tick said from the freezer.

They had normal,

Foggy glass freezers.

They have some of that spirit of 76 ice cream.

Great,

Tick.

Get some of it if you want,

Ax answered.

Please,

No more red and white up and blue ice cream,

Ria thought.

It made her think of chewing on a flag when she ate it.

Max asked,

Find anything you like,

Rial?

Rialia shook her head and went to see what else Tidle had to offer.

She saw an antique store as she opened the front door.

Antique stores were even better than museums,

Because there was nothing there to tell her where the pieces of the past came from.

She had the chance to imagine just where they fit in,

All on her own.

In the window stood a mannequin wearing a Gibson girl shirtwaist,

A long skirt with a fancy bustle,

And a plumed hat.

She stepped outside to take a look.

Four kids straddled their bicycles on the sidewalk as they looked through their newly purchased baseball cards.

Who's she?

Asked the one with freckles and a sideways front tooth.

His multi-colored striped pants looked like a TV test pattern.

Ria turned.

They were so close she couldn't help but hear the question and feel their stares.

One of the kids wore a jean jacket,

Covered with patches,

And had bandanas tied to handlebars of his blue banana-seat bike.

He said,

Hey,

Where'd you come from?

New South Wales,

Ria answered.

She loved naming real places other kids didn't know,

Just to intrigue them.

Where?

Asked a kid with chocolate smeared around his mouth.

What's your name?

Asked the bandana kid.

Ria,

The chocolate kid laughed.

Did you say Ray-lee-ah like railroads?

Ria squinted.

Do you eat your food or just wear it?

The two other boys pointed and laughed at their friend.

The girl in the group hold her bike to Ria.

Her long,

Straight ponytails tied with fuzzy ribbons made Ria think of the Brady Bunch.

The girl held out her hand,

Saying,

Name's Zoe.

Another kid with a name no one wanted.

She knew what it was like.

You said your name because you had no choice.

Then you went after any twerp who said something about it.

Where'd you get that dress?

Bandana asked.

Ria looked down at her knee-length blue dress.

In the summer she preferred 50s dresses.

The full skirts had better airflow.

Plus,

They were short enough to allow her to pedal her bike.

She was used to the weird looks,

But as far as she was concerned,

Bandana looked like a camper that had been to too many states with all the gaudy patches sewn onto his jacket.

What's it to you?

He shrugged.

You look weird.

Ria glared at him but didn't answer.

She was tired of defending herself.

Her name,

Her clothes,

Her parents.

It wasn't worth the effort anymore.

Zoe said,

Ignore him.

We're going to Stake Old Old Man Rutherford.

Wanna come?

Who's he?

Who's he?

Came a shocked chorus from the boys.

Chocolate said,

He's the guy with the old house on the hill.

Tooth added,

He uses bear traps to catch little kids.

Then he kills them and buries them in his garden.

Leaning over his handlebars,

Bandana whispered,

He murdered his wife and keeps her body in their bedroom dressed in her wedding gown.

Ria stared at him.

She wanted to know the truth about this mysterious old man.

Does he live in the house with the white wooden gate?

Chocolate stared at her in confusion.

Yeah,

Bandana answered,

Biggest and oldest house in title.

And it's haunted by his wife's ghost.

She stalks him for killing her.

He never leaves.

Zoe whispered,

Some people think he died years ago but everybody's too afraid to go check.

Have you ever seen him?

Ray asked.

I have.

Chocolate shouted.

Tooth waded,

Wadded up the wrapper of his cards and threw it at chocolate.

It hit him between the eyes.

Get those checked.

You saw a dead spruce tree and thought it was Rutherford.

Tick came out of the store sucking on a popsicle.

His shirt already spotted with orange jewels.

What's up?

Who's he?

Tooth asked.

Tickton Pendle.

Tickton?

Bandana shouted as the other boys laughed.

Who are your parents Morticia and Gomez Adams?

Tickton bit off a piece of popsicle and spit it at bandana.

He got him in the chin.

Hey!

Bandana wiped off his chin.

What's that for?

Slipped.

Tick mumbled.

He knew how to avoid fights.

Are we going to sit here and spit at each other or go up to Rutherford's?

Tick asked.

Rutherford's.

Chocolate shouted.

The boys looked like they were about to go.

Then Max leaned out the door to ask.

Dick,

Did you pray for that?

His mouth full of popsicle,

Tick answered.

Yeah.

The other kids gave Max the giant stare.

Ray had seen the big boy.

He had seen that giant stare.

Ray had seen that open mouthed gawk a thousand times.

It made her want to give them a bop in the chin so they'd bite their tongue.

Her dad couldn't be the only six foot seven man on the planet.

Why did everyone have to act like he was?

As usual,

Max pretended like nothing was wrong.

Good.

Smiling at the others,

He asked.

What are you kids up to?

Nothing.

Chocolate shrugged.

Just biking around,

Zoe answered.

Well,

Rayl and Tick are new in town.

Maybe you could show them around so my wife and I can check the place out.

Rayl glared at him.

They'd only been there for five minutes and already Max was trying to get rid of her and Tick.

Rayl wondered why he'd even bothered to have kids if all he wanted to do was get rid of them.

Okay,

Ben Dennis smiled.

He nudged Tooth saying,

We can introduce them to Rutherford.

Tooth and Chocolate laughed and nodded their hands.

Max said,

Good.

I'm not going.

Tick shook his head.

Fine.

Stay here,

Rayl said.

There was no way she was sticking around if Max was going to act like she was some unwanted orphan.

He got startled with,

I'm going.

You sure,

Tick?

Mac asked.

Tick pointed at Max with his popsicle saying,

Positive.

See you later,

Rayl.

Max didn't even wave as he went inside.

Turning to the other kids,

She said,

Give me a minute.

I gotta go get my bike.

You're gonna ride a bike in a dress?

Tooth asked.

Rayl had half a mind to throw her skirt up to show him the shorts she wore underneath,

But that wouldn't be too ladylike.

She could get past the shorts that kept her thighs from sticking together when she sweated,

But she wasn't going to go around flashing boys like some girls did at the rock concerts Max and Tiny took her to.

A lady wore a dress and didn't go around flashing people.

But why did being a lady have to stop anyone from riding a bike?

It wasn't like she could ride its side saddle.

And why not?

Rayl asked.

Doesn't your underwear bunch up or something?

Chocolate asked.

That question wasn't even worth answering.

Rayl just went inside.

Tick followed her saying,

Don't go,

Rayl.

They're trying to play a trick on you.

Really,

Genius?

What gave you the first clue?

Don't be a toxic toad.

Toad was Tick's new word.

Cool things were toady.

Amazing things were,

No,

Toad.

Jerks were toxic toads.

He switched words with Max's research.

When Max was hunting,

Catching,

Picking,

And prodding different kinds of clams,

Everything was clam-something.

Now that Max had moved on to toads,

Toad was the word.

Rayl went out the back way and pulled her bike down off the rack.

Tiny came out with a bag of groceries.

What's going on?

Rayl put her foot down on top of Max's to warn him,

On top of Tick's to warn him that if he said a word,

She'd crush his toes.

The local kids are going to show me around town.

In town five minutes and you've made friends?

You feeling all right there,

Rayl?

Tiny asked.

She often told Rayl she was a better social as a Venus tritrap,

Flytrap,

Like Tiny could talk.

Rayl gave her mom a don't be a jerk,

Squint,

Then said,

I'll have them show me home.

The number's 213 Killian Avenue,

Right?

She asked,

Getting on her bike and peddling out of the lot.

Be back before dark,

Tiny called.

Yeah,

Right,

Rayl said to herself.

Tiny didn't care as long as Rayl was in by bedtime and in one piece when she showed up.

And Max would probably be in his office looking up the names of toads.

He'd be too busy to notice she hadn't come home.

The kids at school called her parents hippies.

She called them ipsofactors.

They were only her parents because they were the reason she was born.

She often imagined being born over half a century ago to real parents named Mr.

And Mrs.

Maxwell Pendle,

Who hosted lawn parties every Saturday and invited the whole neighborhood.

Instead,

She was born in 1964 to Tiny and Max,

Who acted like babysitters.

They were more interested in getting on with their own lives than taking care of her.

Max had his little creatures,

Tiny had her sculptures,

Rayl and Tick were just two more people to talk to and feed when the time came to do such things.

But having real parents or pretend parents didn't matter.

Rayl had it pretty good.

A whole summer in an old-fashioned town with an antique shop and an old house with a perfect gate and a historical mystery she had to solve.

Mr.

Brother first sounded like a perfect mystery.

He never left his house,

Lived all alone on a secluded hill.

No one ever saw him.

Everyone thought he killed his wife and kept her body.

Ray would just have to see about that.

She cruised around the corner onto the street pedaling at full speed.

The kids were joking about something.

She raced past them,

Shouting,

Let's go!

They scrambled to get going so they could pass her before she showed them up.

You don't even know the way!

Bandana told her as he came alongside her.

Ray pedaled a little harder to get ahead.

Yes,

I do.

She wasn't going to let Bandana and his gang pull one over on her.

She was the chief historian in this crew and she'd call the shots.

Thank you so much for joining me to hear the first chapter of Strawberry Hill by A La Fay.

As you think about this chapter,

I wonder,

What are your thoughts on your own family?

Do you think they're the weirdest thing since marshmallow fluff and peanut butter on toast?

And yes,

That really was a sandwich way back when.

Or is your family so boring you wish there was more excitement at home?

Or are there difficulties at home that you think no one else is going through?

Well,

I'm pretty sure that whatever you're facing,

There are others who are facing it too.

And it may be that all you need to do is ask for some help.

Can you think of people who might be able to help you?

I'm sure you can.

I'm sure you can.

I'm sure you can.

I'm sure you can.

Or be willing to listen to your thoughts and your concerns.

I think it's better to bring things out into the open,

To talk about them,

To work through them.

I wonder if the Pendels,

The family in this story,

Will ever do that.

Will they talk about how they really feel?

Will they reveal the truth,

Emotions behind their actions?

Hmm,

Maybe so.

You'll have to look for the next chapter and find the answers.

But for now,

I'd like you to consider what you've read.

Consider what questions it raises in your mind.

Consider how you might find the answers.

I want to thank you for listening.

And a lafay of Sylvanasale.

Reviews

excited about this series… thank you

I can totally relate. I wish we lived in a time where there were ballrooms and the music was always classical. My life is okay, but my family is weird. I feel exactly the same.

Ooo nice story!! Your voice was soothing and the story was awesome 🤩 Thank you and please make more like this.

Thank u 🙏🏻 😊 this means a lot in theses hard times

I love your stories, characters, & character development. Wonderful. I also appreciate the thoughtful questions you share.

That was great please make a part two