A Stranger Feast-Chapter One

The night engulfed her, embraced her like a lover, enfolding her in its velvet arms as she walked the empty streets.  Swings squeaked in the playground on her left as if invisible children sat in them, their legs pumping furiously toward the stars.  She thought back to when she used to swing as a child in her frilly dresses and black patent leather shoes.  She would swing all day long, higher and higher, the sun making her auburn hair glow with fiery tints.  But that was long ago; very long.  Now she could barely remember how the sun felt on her upturned face, or how happy she used to be when she was lucky enough to see a rainbow stretched across the sky, a gateway to the elusive pot of gold.  It’s best not to try and remember.  There is only pain in remembering.

      “It’s a beautiful day here at WCRX 97.3, Franksburg, South Carolina.  Temperature’s at a steady 80 degrees and there’s just the slightest breeze coming in from the north.  Weather is going to be pleasant for the rest of the day with the low tonight getting down to about 71.  As for Friday...” The radio droned on as thirteen year-old Stasha and her little brother Geoffrey played tag around the weeping willows and through the colorful rose garden, being careful not to step on any of Momma’s prize-winning flowers.

      “I’m still faster than you, Geoffrey Bene’” Stasha yelled as she jumped over the yellow Tonka truck her brother had left in the middle of the yard.  She looked back over her shoulder to see if he was close behind her and didn’t see Hurricane sprawled out on the lawn, sleeping.  Landing face down in the soft, pungent grass, Stasha turned over just in time to see Geoffrey flying through the air before he landed on her.  Hurricane thought it was a good idea too and joined in, slobbering on both of them.

      “Get your mangy mutt off of me,” she cried in disgust, throwing her hands over her face for protection.

      “He’s your dog too!” Geoffrey spouted.

      “Is not.  I wanted a Dalmatian but, no, we had to get a stupid black lab.  What Geoffrey wants, Geoffrey gets.”  She angrily stalked off toward the house, wiping her face and dress where Hurricane had slobbered.

      The next year it was the same.  And the next.  It wasn’t that Stasha wasn’t given the best; on the contrary.  She was given the best clothing, best education, and the best personal servants; the best that money can buy.  It may have been all right for her mother and father when they were growing up.  They seemed to thrive in the money soaked atmosphere with the fancy cars and doting servants.  Geoffrey didn’t seem to mind it either, but she did.  They had her life all planned out for her already and it seemed that she didn’t have a say.  Of course all the Bene’ girls went to Wellington Academy as well as all the boys going to the military academy in Charleston.  It was the same with the Devereaux’, her mothers family.  That’s where her mother and father met, at one of the many functions the schools threw.  If she recalled correctly, it was the Spring Formal.  Their theme that year had been One Enchanted Evening.

      Her father had gone to the dance with every intention of not enjoying himself.  Even his friends thought of the dance as an obligation rather than an opportunity for fun.  But Jimmy McMillan, his best friend and roommate, had spotted his girlfriend across the dance floor and had dragged her father over to meet her.  And next to Jimmy’s girlfriend had been her mother.  He had shyly asked her to dance and the rest was history.  Their romance had lasted through their last two years of school and one blustery summer night he had proposed to her under the stars.  Etc....etc....  She had heard the story told so many times she knew every detail by heart, and that was more than she ever had wanted to know.  And here she was, having to follow in their footsteps.  Whoopee.  She wanted to go to Wellington about as much as a pig wants to go to the slaughterhouse.

      It really wasn’t fair.  Didn’t she have a say as to how she was going to spend the rest of her life?  Did her parents really think that all she wanted to do was mingle with the other wealthy children and then fall in love with some rich idiot whose sole ambition is to become a politician?

      Not likely.  Anastasha Brigetta Bene’ was a child of adventure and love.  She had a hunger for life growing within her that could not be controlled by the posh plantation house or the pretty dresses or the servants.  She wanted real life experience; danger, excitement, adventure; and she was determined to have it.