2) The Stranger

The sound of crackling flames brought a stirring by the fireside.  Carrie blinked her drooping eyes awake, feeling greatly relieved, immediately thinking that it was all just a meaningless nightmare that had occurred.  But then she saw the back of an unfamiliar shadow, rocking back and forth calmly in her rocking chair, and confusion overcame her heart-- as well did she feel a bit panicky.  Her eyes drifted over the little lodging.  It was small, and rather plain.  There weren't many pictures to grace the walls, and there was only one braided rug that lay by the door, but there was some unidentified homey touch to it.  She felt a bit more at ease in her surroundings, but then discovered a large black pot of stew that was being heated by the fire.  Her eyes widened, her mind quickly flashing to one of the bedtime stories her mother had told her about Hansel and Gretel.  She felt her heart nearly thrust from her chest, and wished to shriek out in alarm, but she could hardly get a word from her tight throat.

Then she let her eyes gaze more sharply at the elderly woman before her, guessing that she was somewhere in her late thirties.  "Who-- who are you?" she whispered shakily, but in a firm tone.

The woman turned slightly to her guest.  "Why, you're awake," she said, seeming satisfied.  "Hungry, too, I suppose?  Well, I'm making a pot of stew here.  Should be done in a minute."

Carrie was silent, but then blurted out shamelessly, "Are you going to cook me up in that pot of stew?"

The lady had thrown her hands up in the air, a shocked, somewhat amused expression on her face.  "My lands, child!  Indeed, no.  I don't eat children."

Carrie squinted at her sternly.  She didn't seem like the evil witch in Hansel and Gretel.  Instead, Carrie saw a softness in the hazel eyes.  As though, there was something that she was missing-- something rather like a mystery in this older woman.  That softened, rather sorrowful gaze sent a twinge to Carrie's heart, and she couldn't help feeling compassion on this lonely soul.

"Well," she stuttered to explain, "you just live in this house in the middle of nowhere and you were cooking a pot of stew... and... and I--"  She was interrupted by a soft chuckle.  It was rather an awkward one.  Seeming almost strained.  It appeared to Carrie it had been some time this woman had been able to laugh freely about anything.

Before she could say a word more, she felt a movement beside her, and Nathan sat straight up.  He looked from his sister to the woman, puzzled.

"Aunt Prudence?" he said sleepily.  "What are you doing here?"

Carrie burst into hysterical laughter, and the older woman couldn't hide a smile.

"She's not Aunt Prudence, you silly goose.  She's-- she's--" And Carrie turned to her once again.  "What is your name?"

The woman before her seemed to ponder this question, as though the meaning of her name held some masked identity.  Finally, she whispered in a voice that sounded sad, "Kate. Kate Winslow."

~*~

Carrie was lost in deep thought when Kate had handed the two of them cups of the hot stew.  Nathan was quick to devour the contents, but Carrie played around with her chipped spoon.

"I just don't understand it," she blurted out frankly.  "How did you come here?  Why would you stay here in the middle of the woods in this old cabin?  Don't you have a family at all?  I think it would get very lonesome to be here all by yourself-- in a storm as this every winter.  And aren't you scared of the bears and snakes out here?  It seems mighty strange to me."

Nathan nudged her.  "It's not polite to ask so many questions," he admonished his younger sister.

A smile played across Kate's face, but she did not answer.  When Carrie looked at her expectantly, the woman couldn't help a sigh escape her lips.  She sounded weary; tired.  "Well, that's a very, very long story," she said, setting down her cup of strong coffee and sitting back in her rocker.  "That was quite some time ago and there's not much use in bringing up the past.  It's rather like reopening an old wound that should have been long healed."

Carrie looked down at the antique cup held in her hands.  "Was it something dreadful-- that caused you to come here, I mean?" 

Kate felt all the past beginning to flash before her in one second and she felt a bitter stab in her heart that reminded her of what had happened one long ago day when her world had changed. 

"Something like that," she said quietly.

"Will you tell us what happened?" she pleaded.

Kate looked into the eager eyes of the children.  She had buried her past long ago, hoping to forget and move on with her life.  She saw, now, though, it was time she spilled out the truth that had been locked away in her heart for too many years.

"I hardly know where to start..." she said slowly.  "Well, I guess the best place is the very beginning.  Now, what's that phrase?  Oh, yes.  Once upon a time... it was a dark and stormy night.  A night very much like this one.  Now, you see, I grew up on a farm with my..." she paused slightly, as though unsure if she should go on.  "... my younger sister, Beth.  Our parents were hardworking, friendly people.  At that time it was the Great Depression and we had to save every nickel and penny we earned.  It was a rough time for the all of us.  But, even so, we got along alright.  We raised horses and had chickens and a milk cow.  Well, to get to the story," she hurried on.  "It was cold and dark and the wind was howling terribly.  My Ma was sitting calmly in her rocking chair, sewing, and my Pa was coaxing some flames from the fire.  It all happened so suddenly as I remember..."

~*~

  There was the bellowing sound of a thunderclap ahead, and Beth clung to her older sister, Kate, her big blue eyes wide with fear.  "Oh, it sounds so-- so angry," was her muffled cry into her large apron.  "It's just a silly old storm," Kate said with careless abandon.  "It can't hurt you or nothin'."

"It can't hurt you or anything," was her Ma's gentle correction from the spot at her rocker.

Kate gave a kind of acknowledging nod, but looked away distractedly.  Something was raging and howling outdoors and she didn't want to miss the action.

Beth, on the other hand, sat frigid on the worn couch, watching as raindrops slid down the windowpane, her cheeks soon dampened with tears.  "Why is Jesus crying from heaven?  He must be sad."

Kate gave her younger sister a look of surprise and amusement, but before anything could be said to comfort the downcast child, there was a loud KNOCK!  Kate and Beth both shrieked, glancing at each other in exceeding alarm.  There was a quick jerk as Ma glanced up, her eyes immediately locking onto Pa's.  He stood to his full towering height, his thick brow furrowing.  With quick, determined strides, he reached the door and yanked it open.  Staggering forward was a young boy-- only about fourteen.  And did he ever look a sight!  He was sopping wet, and looked as dirty as Sally, the milk cow.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Mama, setting down her mending garment.  "Why, the poor boy is soaked clear through!  Hurry, Kate, and bring that blanket."

Kate immediately did as bidden, her heart pounding.  She was the tomboy of the family; the adventurer.  At ten years old, she was "full of wild and silly notions" her mother had said emphatically.  Her Pa, however, seemed to see past her childish nonsense and, instead, saw her as an intelligent, confident young girl with big dreams for the future.  

Beth was another story.  She was the shy, timid slip of a girl, with big blue eyes of sympathy and understanding.  She was "Mama's little helper" and could find the good in anyone.  

However, at this moment, Beth was too frightened for her compassionate being to reach out to the stranger, who sat on their couch, dripping and shivering and looking like some starved animal.  Her eyes, though, never wandered from the face before her.

"Who exactly are you?" Kate inquired of him, her chin jutting out confidently, and her tone as that of some detective.  She eyed him suspiciously.  He had wet, tousled blond hair, and dark chocolate brown eyes that looked into hers at this moment.  He cocked his head to the side, looking at her easily.  "Jonathan," he told her through chattering teeth.  "Jonathan McCarther."  That was all he really bothered saying.  It was apparent he wasn't open with those he'd never met before.  For a fact, Kate found herself most fascinated with the newcomer.  And he was quite handsome, indeed, though Kate didn't pay any mind.  However, there was something in his manner that caught Kate rather off guard.  She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt there was something-- something missing in this picture.  And she was determined to find out just what lay behind that amused smile.

Author's Note

What do you think so far? ;D Of the characters? And how the story's developing?

Your honest opinions, please!

Reviews

[Krystal Nicole]

Very great technique with the flashback!! And jonathan seems very. . . interesting. Can't wait to read more!!

[Kelly M.]

Yay!!:)

[Dreamer]

Really nice. I appreciate the flashback scene. What i would just mention (im nt telling you to change anything) bt, my teacher told me that a new style is to include more dialogue among the characters so your reader gets the idea of who they are by the things they do and say rather by the author telling us. Very good story be almost remember to end your chapter with something that is at risk... keep ur reader on their toes :) *ur writing ability at 13yrs old is amazing

[Seanne Tholltree]

is there part 2?

[~Lizzy♬]

This is such a great story so far. I love how you inquire every little detail to make the book come to life as if it was sitting right in front of me and playing on a screen. Haha! You've got the talent. :)

~Lizzy~