Strawberry Hill, Chapter 17

Recommended 10 and up. Raleia Pendle always wished she was from an old-fashioned family from a bygone era who would be involved in every aspect of her life, but instead, she has modern (for 1976) hippie parents who keep their distance.

Raleia gets a taste of the past in Tidal, ME which was hit by a Tidal Wave in 1911 and is a living museum to the event. She also meets Ian Rutherford a recluse who hasn't left his house since the tidal wave hit.

PLEASE NOTE: This track shares the story of how a character died. There is careful consideration of the sensitive nature of this subject, but listeners should be prepared.

Transcript

Hello,

This is A.

LeFay of Sylvanocity,

Here to share an excerpt from Strawberry Hill,

A story recommended for listeners 10 and up.

Before I begin,

I just want to take a moment to give you a preface to prepare yourself for what's coming.

In this short chapter,

We rejoin the story of Raylia Pendle,

Age 11,

Who's visiting Gamden,

Maine,

In 1976,

With Max and Tiny,

Her parents,

And her little brother,

Dick.

As a family,

They love each other,

But I'm not so sure they understand each other.

And they're facing a trying new development in their life.

You see,

Tiny is pregnant,

Which is a joyous occasion for many people,

And they certainly hope that's true for them this time around.

But Tiny's last pregnancy ended with the death of her baby daughter,

Mayetta,

So everyone is nervous about what will happen this time around.

And after arriving in this small coastal community,

Raylia began a friendship,

A very unusual friendship.

You see,

She started delivering groceries to the town recluse,

Ian Rutherford,

Who has not left his house since the tidal wave hit in 1911.

A tidal wave,

You say?

Yep,

In 1911,

Gamden,

Maine,

A fictional town,

Was struck by a tidal wave that destroyed the boardwalk and took the lives of many residents,

Including the wife of Ian Rutherford,

Callista.

And in this chapter,

We hear the story of how she died.

If the possibility of hearing this story sounds too difficult,

Then I recommend moving on to a new track.

On the other hand,

If you want to know what happened to Callista,

Please listen in.

And once the chapter's over,

We'll talk a little.

Hopefully our talk will help you move on to a restful,

Quiet reflection that allows you to have closure and peace.

Thank you for listening.

And now we begin.

Chapter 17.

Max and Tiny were piecing together a jigsaw puzzle on the kitchen table when Raylia came home.

Finally,

My parents are doing something normal,

Raylia thought.

She decided to give them a hand and took a seat at the table.

Have a good night,

Max asked.

He scanned the puzzle as he spoke.

Raylia turned and noticed that his hand was shaking.

Was he nervous?

What did he have to worry about?

Yeah.

No details.

Tiny looked up,

Her eyes a little puffy.

Did you guys have a scare tonight?

Raylia thought that something had gone wrong with the baby.

Max hung his head.

You amaze me,

Raylia.

What?

Tiny threw a puzzle piece at Raylia.

We were worried about you.

Me?

Max said.

You haven't exactly been yourself since we got here,

Running off with kids you don't even know,

Spending all your time with some old man we'd never even met,

Driving the car when I told you not to,

Storming out of the house,

When all I did was make a joke.

Some joke.

Max squeezed her hand.

I didn't say it to hurt you,

Raylia.

You never mean to hurt me,

But you do it all the time.

And you don't mean to hurt me.

Max looked as if he was ready to cry.

You think I just forget all your wisecracks?

It isn't easy to know your own daughter doesn't like you.

Raylia could have said that she liked Max,

But lying to make him feel better didn't seem right.

Sorry.

I didn't tell you that to make you feel guilty,

Raylia.

I just want you to try and see things from my side a little more.

Okay,

Raylia nodded,

But she didn't have any idea how to go about it.

Are you alright?

Tiny asked.

Sure.

Tiny lifted Raylia's chin so she could look her in the face.

Really?

I'm not great,

But I'm okay.

Wanna talk about it?

Max asked.

Talking to her parents would be like telling all of her problems to a psychologist who only spoke Russian,

When she could just speak English and Spanish.

No,

Let's just build the puzzle.

Sounds good to me,

Max smiled.

Anybody see the rest of the sign for Lemonade?

They went in search of the pieces to the sign and actually had a good time putting together the picture of a town fair.

Hmm,

Maybe that was the problem.

Raylia and her parents needed to stop talking and start doing things together.

Maybe.

The next day,

When Max took Tick fishing and Tiny worked on another puzzle,

Raylia went up to Rutherford's.

He was hoeing in one of the flower beds in the driveway.

When she got there,

He waved,

Saying,

Come on in.

Raylia moved to go around the gate,

But the smile on his face told her it was alright to walk through.

So she did.

The click of the latch as it shut behind her made her smile.

They spent the afternoon planting flowers and singing.

He knew all the words to some great old songs,

Like My Darling Clementine and I've Been Working on the Railroad,

And She Wore a Yellow Ribbon.

The best part was,

They didn't talk much.

They worked until their faces were coated with dirt and their throats were dry.

Time for lemonade,

Rutherford said as he got to his feet.

I'm all for it,

Raylia followed him to the house.

Whoa,

Raylia said after taking the first drink.

His lemonade was sour enough to make Raylia's tongue shrink.

It's a bit tart.

Is there any sugar in here?

Yes,

I just like it sour,

He took a drink.

That's a taste I shared with Callista.

She even enjoyed eating lemons straight out of the peel.

Why?

He smacked his lips and smiled,

Saying,

It's marvelous to listen to.

It's like you're speaking a different language.

You mean the slang?

He nodded.

What new things are children trying today?

Well,

I don't know too many kids who hang like.

He laughed.

She could tell him that some teenage boys wear their hair long and smoke pot and listen to ear-splitting rock music,

But that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Motorcycles are big,

Especially dirt bikes.

Oh,

I remember motorcycles.

I even tried to boom one out of a kit I ordered from Germany,

But it was a complete failure.

Tell me about dirt bikes.

Well,

They're small,

Tough motorcycles you can ride cross-country,

And people race them on these crazy dirt tracks that are filled with hills and hairpin turns.

The riders got flying through the air,

Bike and all.

It'd scare me half to death.

Sounds exhilarating.

Raya shook her head,

Thinking that Dick would probably be trying such things in a few years.

Do the other kids in your family do wild things like that?

My brother Dennis once went to Pamplona to run with the bulls,

But he was distracted by a wealthy young artist who preferred art museums to bullfights.

Anyone else?

Let me think.

Rutherford tapped the side of his glass.

Raya's thoughts fell down a mental staircase.

She went from thinking about daredevil stunts to how many children were in Mr.

Rutherford's family to the fact that his mom must have been pregnant an awful lot.

Then she thought about Tanya Mayetta.

Did your mom ever lose a baby?

Shocked,

He asked.

How'd you get to that question?

I'm just nervous.

My mom's about to have another baby,

And I'm worried things might go wrong like they did the last time.

I'm sure everything will be fine.

Maybe.

They were silent for a moment,

Then Rutherford said,

A little too cheerfully,

So,

You're about to be a sister to some new little one.

Did you get nervous when your mom was going to have another baby?

To tell you the truth,

I was often glad.

It meant one more person to draw her attention away from me.

She always doted on the younger ones.

His family sounded so cold.

Oh,

Sorry to disappoint you.

If it helps,

I think it's admirable that you're excited about the new child.

I'm more scared than excited.

Well,

Then,

Here's a toast to Tanya.

He raised his glass.

May her baby be healthy and happy all its life.

They clinked glasses.

Ray laughed.

Thanks a lot.

Khaleesi used to say that toasts are the prayers of atheists.

Well,

I believe in God.

Rhea suddenly felt guilty for toasting.

She quickly prayed that God would forgive her and keep the baby safe.

And I'm sure God knows that.

He patted her on the shoulder.

Putting his glass in the sink,

He went to the door saying,

I believe there are unweeded vegetables waiting for us in the garden if you're up for the task.

Smiling,

Rhea followed him out to the garden.

They weeded until dark.

And the next day,

He let her collect the eggs.

Then they picked a few of the early peas for their lunch.

As he dropped pea pods into his hat,

Rhea asked,

When will the strawberries be ready?

Her favorite food in the entire world was strawberries and cream.

I don't pick the strawberries,

Rutherford said as he stepped out of the garden.

Why not?

Rhea followed him as he walked toward the house.

They're Callistus.

Rhea had promised herself she wouldn't ask so many questions.

Sorry.

No,

He turned to say.

It's perfectly all right.

I planted them for her,

But she never got to taste them.

It just doesn't seem right to pick them.

That was a really nice thing you did for her.

To plant them,

I mean.

He hummed a single note.

He chose Camden.

Said it was the type of place where you could disappear into the woods for a while,

Then race into the sea.

She loved it here.

Rhea wasn't going to pry.

If he kept talking,

He kept talking.

But he turned to go into the house.

And Rhea felt as if he'd pulled a string out of her heart and was walking away with it still attached.

She had to know.

What happened to her?

Blunt,

Aren't you?

He turned,

His face suddenly hard.

I'm sorry.

She walked down that hill.

He pointed down the driveway.

A basket over her arm.

She's going to buy some pies.

Strawberry pies.

Her favorite.

She asked me to go with her.

His eyes were fixed on the gate.

I told her I had to work to do around the house.

I always said that.

He looked down at the peas and said,

I'd better get these shucked.

I can't wait too long.

They're spoiling the sun.

She pushed.

The best thing to do was say nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

She did just that.

And Mr.

Rutherford seemed fine with that idea.

He told Rhea he planned to spend the afternoon cleaning windows.

And she could join him if she liked.

She wanted to.

Rhea felt she owed him a little help.

So she pitched in.

He went outside to clean and she stayed inside.

The glass was old and rippled like a wave.

If she stood just right when the sun was shining,

She could see a pinch of rainbow colors in the sunlight.

Scrubbing the windows,

She let her mind wander.

She dreamed of living in a house like Mr.

Rutherford's.

The built-in bookcases,

The hardwood floors,

The Ripley windows,

And plaster walls.

It would be just like living in the past.

Upstairs,

She felt nervous as if she was sneaking into someone's bedroom.

She started in the front of the house then worked her way to the back.

When she entered the last bedroom that faced towards the town,

She could see the ocean.

It looked like a postcard taped to a distant bulletin board.

Shocked,

She dropped the bucket.

The water splashed all over her,

But she didn't notice.

Walking to the window,

She saw the craggy rocks of the peninsula where the bodies were washed ashore.

He'd seen it,

Watched it all.

And standing there,

She could almost imagine the Titan wave rising out of the sea.

She couldn't look any longer.

She had to turn away.

Rutherford was standing in the doorway,

Frozen.

Are you all right?

I heard a crash.

I,

I,

I,

She fought for control of her own voice.

You saw it happen.

He stepped into the room.

This was Callista's room.

I rarely ever came in here.

He stroked the lace bedspread.

I was on the hill,

Strawberry Hill.

You didn't see the Titan wave?

No,

But I heard it.

It was like a gigantic thunderclap,

Like the sky falling to the ground.

He closed his eyes.

And all I did was stand there,

Waiting for another sound,

Something to tell me what had happened.

His voice wavered as he told the rest of the story.

After a bit,

I figured Callista would tell me everything when she got home.

I,

I went back to planting.

I was so proud of myself.

I'd picked the perfect spot.

She'd never see it until I brought her there.

Callista took her walks up on the bluff above the house so she could see the ocean.

I worked until dark,

Telling myself she'd only been delayed.

No one came to the house to tell me what happened.

Come morning,

I went to her room and found it empty.

I couldn't bring myself to look out the window.

I knew I had to go find her.

In her mind,

Ray had followed him into town.

He said he took the stairs that went straight down from the driveway.

Would he have known what had happened as he walked through the trees?

Could he hear people yelling in the town below?

From the high end of town,

He could see the beach,

But the Ferris wheel.

It wasn't standing out against the morning sky as it had before.

The town was deserted.

Shop doors hung open.

Cars sat abandoned on the street.

He could hear the people as he drew closer to the beach.

There was shouting,

Frantic screams of men and women alike,

Others yelling for a doctor or a stretcher,

But the pleased God stood out.

Dear God,

Don't take my,

Please God,

Let me find him.

He knew she was gone.

He couldn't face what lay ahead.

He turned and walked home,

Closed the door and never went back to town.

But Calista,

Ray said it as if it were a question.

Who buried her?

He whispered.

Ray nodded.

Hide it.

He wiped tears from his face.

Up on the bluff.

The police came a week later.

They'd heard rumors that my wife was on the boardwalk.

When I come down to the hospital to identify the body,

He turned away.

I told them her wedding ring was engraved with her name and mine.

I even gave them money for a coffin.

The best they had.

They brought her back in a pine box.

That's all they had left in the mortuary.

When I saw that cheap box,

I couldn't move.

One of them,

I remember he had a lisp.

He said Calista had been crushed.

She hadn't suffered long.

Staring at the rim of the overturned bucket at his feet,

He paused a moment,

Then left the room.

Ray stood there in silence.

Now that she knew the truth,

She felt more ignorant and empty than ever before.

It is so true that death leaves an opening,

A space where the person who passed used to be.

Now,

All we have is memories of them.

Things that remind us of them.

And though there are many times when we wish death wasn't part of life,

It is as much a part of our lives as our beginnings,

Our middles,

Our surprises,

Our defeats.

Though we wish it weren't true,

Death is a part of us.

And when those we care about are gone,

We long for them.

Avoiding talking about or thinking about death doesn't make it less true.

So sometimes it helps to look death in the eyes,

To think about it,

To explore our feelings about it.

And sometimes it's easier to do that when talking about people we'll never actually meet,

Except in the words of a story like Raelia and Ian and Calista.

Today,

We explored a story which looks at a death of just such a person who seems real by the details of her life,

But is really a person drawn from the imagination of the person you're listening to right now.

In imagining Calista,

I wanted to create a person who was fascinating,

Whose death meant something to those who knew her,

And even to those who never get a chance to meet her,

Like Raelia.

You know,

It's often so hard to think of something to say to someone who's lost someone they love.

One of the things I like to say is tell me a story about them.

Tell me something that lets me get to know them,

Even though I haven't met them,

Or share a story of the person you lost with someone who's never met them.

Let the impact they have on your life live on.

In people who only get to know them because of you,

Because of how they have influenced your life.

And you know,

This is how we live on,

Through the things we bring into the lives of others.

We touch their lives,

They touch other lives,

And our influence,

Our existence expands,

Like stars in the curtain of night.

So,

As we close out this track,

Consider how you can expand the life of others by sharing stories of those you love and care about.

What stories would you choose?

There are so many to choose from,

As you take in a deep breath and let it out,

Consider the stories others may tell about you.

Oh,

Don't worry,

There's always a new day ahead to create more stories people could share about you.

I wonder what they will be.

Bye for now.

Reviews

I love the idea of sharing stories about those we’ve loved ❤️ happy to see this new track, thank you