Strawberry Hill Chapter 2

Recommended for 8 and older. Raleia's parents take a hands-off approach and it makes her feel unwanted. She wishes she was from a time when families were involved in every aspect of your life and everything was slower, prettier, and more substantial. In the summer of 1976, she gets that chance because they're going to stay in Tidal, ME a place that hasn't changed much since a tidal wave hit it in 1911. Then she hears about Ian Rutherford, the recluse. Who is he and what is he hiding?

Transcript

Hello, This is A. Le Fay of Sylvanosity, And today I'm going to bring you the second chapter of Strawberry Hill. By me, A. Le Fay. Before I do, Have you ever involved yourself in a situation where you knew you couldn't trust the people you were with, But your curiosity of what would happen next got the better of? Well, That is certainly the situation our character finds herself in, In this chapter. So before we look at the chapter itself, Let's consider the situation. It is certainly not a wise decision to go somewhere with people you don't trust, Not knowing what will happen. Sometimes we learn from the experience, Gain new insights into ourselves and those around us. Other times we become hurt, Or worse. I'd like to suggest that if you find yourself in a situation where you're not so certain about the people you'll be with, You might consider a few safeguards, Like, Bring someone along you know, Or let someone know you know, Know where you're going and how long you'll be there, And have them check in with you, Just to make sure you'll be okay. In any case, It's very important to keep your wits about you, Which means pay attention to the little details. For there are quite a few details to pay attention to in this chapter. Chapter 2 of Strawberry Hill by A. Le Fay In her Queen Historian scenario Rhelia had forgotten to consider the hill. She zoomed ahead of the others, But then she had to turn up the miniature mountain Max drove down on their way in. It was as if she were trying to pedal through a vat of thick, Hot fudge. Sweating, Rhelia stood up to get some traction. No good. She moved slower than a glacier. Chocolate and bandana whizzed by, Laughing. The straws on their wheels spoke, Snapping. Zoe chugged by in her cherry-red Schwinn. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes focused on the crest of the hill. Walk it and I'll show you a shortcut, Tooth said, Coming up to her with his bike at his side. He kept stepping on the edge of his bell-bottoms. Rhelia figured he must have snagged them from an older brother. Okay, Rhelia gasped. She stumbled off her bike and started walking. Her legs felt like taffy that had just been pulled, Then left to set. They'll lose steam, Tooth nodded toward the boys who were screaming under the effort of making it up the hill. Zoe was a ways behind them, But making a steady climb. Zoe's the only one who can make it to the top. Sure enough, The boys went slower and slower, Wobbling as they stood up to give it one final try. Zoe passed them, Her head low over the handlebars, Her legs working in a slow rhythm. The boys collapsed. They lay on the edge of the road to catch their breath. Leaf laughed as he veered off into the woods. He dropped his bike into a small dirt clearing just inside the treeline, But Rhelia stood on the edge of the road, Watching Zoe push her way to the top. As Zoe reached the crest Rhelia felt life cheering, But Zoe just got off, Gave her leg a shake, Then shouted down, Come on, Wimps! Rhelia ducked into the woods to put her bike next to Tooth's, Then followed him up the path that wound between the trees. In roots as steps they climbed the hill. It was so steep Rhelia had to grab on to saplings and low branches to pull herself along. She imagined herself in khaki, A pith helmet on her head, Hacking her way through the jungle with a machete. She wasn't there to conquer or shoot down panthers like some crazed hunter. No, She was a botanist, An explorer who would chart the forest drawing detailed sketches on the flora and fauna in a leather-bound notebook in her hip pocket. She was in search of the elusive Morpho butterfly. She thought she caught sight of its sapphire blue wings, But it was just Tooth's shirttails flapping as they climbed onto a low branch that hung over the ground like a naturally grown fence. Come on up, You can see the house from here. He pointed through the trees. The underbrush was so high Rhelia could see nothing from the ground, So she climbed up beside Tooth. Sure enough, Through the V in a small maple tree, Rhelia could see a multi-paned window made of old-fashioned glass, Hand-blown and ripply. It looked like a pond reflecting sunlight off the crests of its small waves. The reflection made it impossible to see inside. Can you see anything? Tooth sounded as if he were begging for ice cream on a hot day. Nope. Cop-outs, Bandana shouted, Pushing through the trees. Be quiet, Tooth said as Bandana fished for something in the underbrush. What difference does it make? Chocolate asked, Coming around Bandana. He never even looks out the window. Rhelia looked behind Chocolate and asked, Where's Zoe? She always waits on the road, Tooth said, Staring at the window. Chocolate added, She just comes along to show off because she can ride all the way up the hill. Bandana stood with a pool-crutch in his hand. Rhelia always thought that those things looked like brass knuckles stuck on the end of a cue stick instead of a support for making tough shots and a game of pool. What's that for? Rhelia asked, Pointing at the stick. Springing traps, Bandana answered. Rhelia didn't like the way he looked over her head when he said it. Traps, Rhelia asked. Yeah, You know. Tooth tried to show her with his hands. Those round things with jagged teeth on them like a shark's mouth. They close on your foot. He slapped his hands together and made Rhelia jump. Why would there be traps in these woods? Bears, Chocolate answered. Rhelia wondered why bears would wander so close to town. Tooth asked Bandana under his breath, Are you ready? Yeah. Bandana nodded, Then smiled. Hey, Rhelia, Seeing as how you're so tall and all, Why don't you walk up and take a look inside the window? Rhelia looked at Bandana and Tooth. They were both trying not to giggle. Chocolate looked like he'd just swallowed a marble. They'd obviously never gotten much closer to that house than they were at this moment. Jumping off the front side of the branch, Rhelia said, Sure. Bandana grabbed her and pulled her back. He pointed off to the right, At a half-open window. Peek in that one. He could be in that room, Chocolate said, His hands shaking. Rhelia wanted to say, He's not gonna eat us, You twit. But she was scared of what the old man might do. Why that window? We've seen inside that one, Tooth pointed at the first window. With binoculars, Chocolate added. It's just a bedroom, Not much in it, Bandana said. Dropping to the ground, Tooth nodded toward the open window. That one's the living room. Chocolate's eyes glazed over, He said, His wife's knitting basket still sits on the floor. Rhelia asked, If you know that, What do you need me for? We can only see a small part of the room from the trees. We need someone to go and peek in. Bandana gave her a push. She had half a mind to just walk around the house and knock on the front door to get all of this sneaky round over with. Different vines dangled off the eaves, And the faint sound of a wall spilled out of the window. The place was so ancient and undisturbed, It was wrong to intrude upon it. If she just looked, It would be like a museum exhibit. She wouldn't upset a thing. Her heart was doing somersaults as she reached the window. The wind sucked the ends of the late curtains outside. They looked like free-floating spiderwebs. She heard the boys snickering in the trees. Turning, She gave them a laugh and be eaten stare. At her height, Rhelia could look right into the window. She had to step a little to the side and peek in so no one would see her. Everywhere she looked, Rhelia saw perfection. Black and white photographs and gilded metal frames lined the wooden mantelpiece. Book shelves flanked the fireplace. They were filled with old dark books, Some in, Some out, A few on their side. The old man who lived there read a lot. The mammoth armchair wedged into a corner looked like it was covered in the thick, Scratchy velvet from an old horse carriage. The dark wood desk across from it could pass as a table for four. It was covered with yellowed newspapers, Each one with fanned-out grey corners that showed it had been read and reread. Rhelia could have stared for hours. But suddenly, Someone grabbed both her legs and gave her a push from behind. Heating her head as she passed through the window, Rhelia stumbled into the room. Dazed, She tried to turn around and get back out. But Bandana had that pool crutch ready. He used the tip to latch around the top of the window, Then pulled it closed. Bear traps my butt, Rhelia thought. The boys were laughing like a flock of crows as she tugged on the window trying to open it. She heard a door close behind her, Afraid she was about to get attacked by a homicidal recluse. She spun around. Standing before her was an old man, His pale blue eyes wide, His body frozen in place as he stood in the doorway with a load of laundry in his arms. She didn't know whether to run for the front door or jump through the closed window. The old man just stared at her, As if she were an Amazon holding the head of her latest victim. I'll just go, Rhelia said, Skirting the room to go out the second door. He followed her with his eyes, But didn't move until she entered a hallway. The walls were covered with photographs, Each one older than the next. A man standing in front of an old roadster, A trio of women in long gauzy dresses playing croquet, A couple showing off their baby next to a pram. Rhelia was so struck by those pictures, It felt like she'd been sucked in with no route for escape. Then she felt the old man watching her. Glancing up, She saw him stand in the doorway of the entry hall. Framed, He looked almost as if he stood in a photograph, His stiff white shirt, His polished buckle shoes, And a distant look in his eyes. Beautiful pictures, Rhelia pointed over her shoulder as she came into the hallway. He still hadn't so much as parted his lips. At the door she was close enough to smell the scents of line-dried laundry. It made her think of lemonade, White wicker furniture, And someone laughing as pale blue shirts danced in the breeze. I'm sorry, She said, Stumbling out the front door. The sunlight blinded her as she stood in front of the house. After a moment she could see that there were no trees except far off to the side. She was standing in an open courtyard, With a graying wooden barn to the left and a gravel drive sloping downward to the right. Straight ahead a grassy knoll dotted with violets rose up toward the sky. The stillness of the place stunned her. It felt as if God had caught the place up in his fingers and held it above time for a century. She turned to face the front door. It's so pretty. She smiled, But the old man, Gray behind the screen door, Only stared. The boys yelled from the gate. It seemed wrong to have screaming, Obnoxious kids anywhere near the old man's place. So Relia ran down the driveway to get the boys away from there. She stopped in front of the door with the heart-shaped window, But couldn't make herself go through. Darting around the side of the gate, She pulled down a green willowy switch. Snapping it like a whip, She backed the boys away from the gate. Creeps! She shouted as they stumbled over rocks along the road trying to get away. Zoe watched from a nearby tree and laughed. Somewhere between the boys and the driveway, Relia added, He's just a lonely old man and you shoved me into his house. Did you see any bodies? Chocolate asked from a safe distance. No, But I'll be standing over yours if you ever pull anything like that again. Relia snapped her switch into the ground and sent rocks flying. She's gone crazy! Tooth ran for his bike. I'm not afraid of her. Bandana grabbed his bike and started to walk away. The steep hill made it impossible to walk slowly with the weight of his bike beside him, So he started jogging. Chocolate scrambled for his bike then ran after Bandana begging, Wait for me! Zoe jumped out of the tree. There yahoos! Have you seen that place? Relia turned to face the house. The old man's home was completely hidden behind the wall of trees, Except for the gate. From above, Zoe answered, I got lost up on the bluffs around Graver's Pond once and ended up on the hill overlooking the house. It's pretty cool, Isn't it? How long's he been up there? For as long as anybody can remember. He just stared at me. Never said a word. Zoe drew a circle in the dirt by the road with her toe. He probably hasn't talked to anybody in a long time. He's got to be close to a hundred by now. He doesn't go to town. He has all of his groceries delivered. Wow. Relia couldn't take her eyes off the gate. A real living piece of history. Living or dead, He wants to be alone, Zoe said grabbing her bike and starting down the hill one foot. Zoe made her feel guilty for staring, So Relia ran to catch up. You don't ride that? Not unless I want to coast all the way into the ocean. I guess so. From the top of the hill Relia could see the water. The thin and white tips of the waves made it look like the ocean had been beaten to a froth. Gonna be a whale of a storm tonight, Zoe said. Great, Relia thought. Tiny was afraid of storms. So much so that she often dragged her and Tick into the basement or the bathtub. Then she sang Beatletoons until it was over. Zoe was a puzzle. She defended old man Rutherford, But she rode around with kids like Tooth, Bandana and Chocolate. Relia didn't like unsolved puzzles, So she asked, Why do you hang out with those goons? Ricky's my brother. Ricky, Relia asked, Unable to think of the boys as anything but Tooth, Chocolate and Bandana, The one with the chocolate on his chin. Sorry for teasing him. Tick could be a pain, But Relia hated it when people teased him. Could be. He's a slob. They were silent until they came to a fork in the road, High above the town. Zoe stopped her bike. Relia did the same. Where do you have to get to? Zoe asked. Killian Avenue. Relia looked over the small town at all the tiny houses with their front porches, Fenced in yards and trellises beside their stubby chimneys. The place looked like it belonged in a World War I poster under the slogan, Protect America's Home Front. Killian's that one, Running in front of the school over there. Zoe pointed south. The schools in Relia's hometown were made out of the same cement bricks they used to make basements. She looked at the old brick schoolhouse with the shuttered windows and shiny flagpole, And longed to go there. Back when everyone wore knee-high boots, The girls had pageboy haircuts, And the boys wore ties. They'd trade greeting cards and shoot marbles. The schoolrooms would have wooden floors and eight-foot windows. You see it? Zoe asked. Yeah, Sure. To her surprise, The ocean was just a block or two from her house. From where she stood, Relia could see that there was only a stone wall between the beach and the end of Killian Avenue. Waving to Zoe as she started toward the schoolhouse, She said, Thanks. Nice to meet you. Catch you later, Zoe called back as she went the other way. Coasting down the hill toward the house, Relia thought about Zoe. Back home, She didn't have many friends. The kids in her class thought museums were boring, And they hated to read novels about the old days. They called her Amelia Earhart, Because like Amelia, Relia was lost in the past. The only time they talked to her was when they needed help studying for a history test, Or they wanted to borrow a pencil. Relia told herself it was better to be alone. She didn't have to figure out their corny jokes, Or understand just what was cool about rock and roll music, Or shopping at the mall. The only problem was, Her solo routine didn't work. Going to museums alone only made her long to be a part of the lives she saw before her, And the dark oil paintings hanging over reassembled mantelpieces. She wished she could step into the gray and white photographs and polished wooden frames. Why couldn't she be the member of a family that stood together on the lawn, Holding hands, And waiting for the camera to finish taking their picture, Their faces frozen in a smile, Their eyes wild with held-in laughter? Maybe things would be different this summer if she could hang out with Zoe. Relia wasn't a complete geek. She enjoyed swimming and bike riding and going to the movies. Real kids' stuff, Like the other kids in her class. Relia wasn't going to push it. She'd wait until she saw Zoe around. Say hi or something. If Zoe didn't give her a what-do-you-want glare, Relia'd invite her to take a trip to the beach. Stopping at the end of Killian, Relia decided it was a good plan. The house at 213 Killian could almost fit into their two-car garage at home. It looked like a gray toad squatting down on a patch of Tiger lilies, Its two dormer windows sticking out of the roof like bulging eyes, And the peeling paint like warts on its back. Relia liked older things, But they had to be well kept. Otherwise they were just junk. This place was a regular heap. She went in the back door. The kitchen reminded her of a submarine galley, A long, Narrow room with miniature appliances, Dinky cupboards along two walls, And barely enough room for a surfboard-sized door at each end. No one was home. Typical. Tiny pretended like she cared by saying something paternal like, Be home before dark, Then split. How would she know if Relia came home before dark, If she wasn't even there? Relia started to fix herself a sandwich. As she spread mayonnaise on a slice of bread, Tiny rushed in through the back door. Being Relia, Tiny said, Help me, Rale. There's a storm coming up. Great to see you too, Relia thought, But she knew better than to say anything. Tony was in her prepare for a storm mode. Tiny could detect bad weather better than any barometer. When she was nine, She got stuck out in the woods in the middle of a tornado. She tied herself to a pine tree so she wouldn't get blown away. Tiny and the tree swung like a pendulum in the wind. The whole experience gave Tiny a mortal fear of storms. There are just a few clouds, Tiny. Relia hated it when Tiny overreacted, Covering all the windows and dragging them into the basement to sit through a piddly little rain shower. Where'd you go? To find an obstetrician, Max said, Bringing blankets in from the car. And Tiny's right, The weatherman says we're in for one heck of a storm. So help Tiny cover the windows. Is there a cellar? Relia asked as they put a quilt over the window above the sink to catch any glass if it broke. Just a root cellar next to the garden, Tiny said, Grabbing a blanket from Max and going to the next window. Tic's out there now to see what's inside it. Root cellars, Like the one beneath her grandma Hollister's kitchen, Were worse than coffins. Ry, You would rather face a typhoon than go inside one of those things. But when it came to storms, Tiny's maternal instinct woke up and went into overdrive. Her babies, As she always called Relia and Tic during a storm, Had to be safe. All through the upstairs windows, Relia turned to find the stairs. No wider than a ruler, They were attached to the living room wall without a railing. At least the ceiling was only seven feet high, So it wouldn't be too bad a fall. She smiled to think of her dad walking those stairs. His size seventeen shoes would stick out from each step like a clown's. The place was probably like a dollhouse to him. All help, Max said. Relia couldn't keep from laughing as Max went up the stairs sideways. Tic ran in as they came down the stairs a little while later. It's like a bomb shelter down there. We better get going, Max said, Grabbing a lantern and a blanket off the wooden breakfast nook wedged into a corner next to the kitchen. Tic grabbed Relia's hand. He hated root cellars as much as she did. It was about the only thing they agreed on. That didn't make her any happier because it made him feel like he had the right to crawl under her lap. She felt pinned in enough without him plopping on top of her. As she reached the steps of the root cellar, Max yelled up to her, Relia, Move the car onto the street and away from any trees. Don't forbid anything should happen to the car, Tiny teased. Fine, Relia stormed off. Max had taught her to drive two years ago. Tiny had gone into premature labor and he was off at some stupid conference. By the time the ambulance arrived, The baby's head was crowning. To cover the fact that he wasn't around when Tiny needed him, Max taught Relia how to drive, Making it her job to get them where they needed to go in an emergency. He even bought a junker Volkswagen bug for just that purpose. Tick called it the beetle ambulance. Relia thought of it as another piece of junk to clutter up their backyard. The old ambassador was the only thing Max ever took care of and she had half a mind to park it under the nearest tree, Hoping she'd be able to see it squashed like a June bug when they came out after the storm. Like the house, The root cellar was a tight fit. Thick in her lap, Her dad's feet under hers, And her mom's tummy snug against her side, She closed her eyes and dreamed of the wide open space in front of Mr. Rutherford's house, The sun shining on her skin, The breeze blowing the grass, And the spreading scent of violets. This has been chapter two of Strawberry Hill by A. Lafay. Thank you for joining me for this chapter, And now that we've read it, I thought maybe we could take a moment to think about things we fear, Like storms. Sometimes the fear becomes bigger than the storm itself, Or we might even think of it as a storm within ourselves. If that's the case for you, With storms or other things, Then I'd like you to consider compartmentalizing the storm. Not taking it apart into pieces, But putting it inside a compartment inside your mind. Think of that fear as, When you look at it, It looks dangerous and scary and overwhelming, Like a tornado heading for you. But what if that tornado was only a movie on a TV screen? Better yet, Imagine it as a photograph that you can take off the screen, Fold and then fold again, And slip inside an envelope, And mail that envelope off to wherever fears go when we let them go. Just a thought, I hope it's helpful. Thank you again for joining me. This has been Ela Fae of Sylvanosity.

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I love it when another chapter shows up from one of your books. Much Appreciation for you & your stories, I really enjoy them.