Monday, August 26, 2013

Zebulon - Day 118 - Historical Fiction

However, that didn't stop Rosie and me from running over and pulling the two kids up and hugging them, defiant of our grandma. Little did we realize or even care that we would pay for it later on. 

However, they were restrained in their smiles and were anxious to be seated again. Rosie and I looked at one another; we realized that we might be in for rough sailing for awhile, at least, I thought, until Sgt. Finley rescued us, somehow.

Rosie and I sat down next to our grandpa, who had said very little until now. 

"Well, kids, I guess we'll be taking you home with us today. Seems you have no place else to go, and now you are in trouble with the law, having run away from home. Does Ellen know you are here? No? Well, she is going to rue the day she crossed my Martha, isn't she my dear wife?"

"Most certainly, Shane! And this young man as well! You realize he is the one who hit me from behind with the pot from the stove! I have some plans for you, young man, and I'm sure you won't enjoy them." 

Millie was standing by, trying to pretend she wasn't hearing the exchange. I could see the moisture in her eyes, and I gave her a look that told her that we felt her betrayal deeply, hoping she would spend some sleepless nights because of her actions. I also wished she would be able to somehow still help us, but didn't hold out much hope for it.

We ordered breakfast, and when she brought it, it tasted like sand in my mouth, but if I had known what lay ahead, I would have eaten it like a condemned man (aka the condemned man ate a hearty breakfast). Instead, half of it was left on the plate. 

We all got up then from the booth, and went outside for the trip to the farm. My grandma took me by the arm with an iron grip; Rosie came along without anyone holding on to her. 

When we got out to the street, there sat an old farm truck and I wondered how we were all going to fit inside it. Les and Marie climbed into the bed of the truck and Rosie and I were wedged in between our grandparents inside the cab. It was a tight fit, and there was no escape. 

(To be continued)

1 comment:

Delores said...

Oh this doesn't sound good at all.