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Great Writing - Home > Extended > The Tattered Rose (Chapter 4)
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Extended Work
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| The Tattered Rose (Chapter 4) | |
| By beatricelouise | ||||||||||
| 07 April 2008 | ||||||||||
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Sarah, without fail, walked me half way home each time I visited and her deep concern for me increased as time passed. One day, after my chores were completed, I rushed to Sarah’s. The butler met me at the door saying, “I’m sorry to have to report to you, Sarah has come down with a fever and chills.” The sound of the knocker clacking must’ve awakened Sarah. I heard tapping on the white-paned window above. Crystals of frost on her windowpane was being hastily scratched aside with her fingernails exposing a rough miniature view. Soon her lovely face appeared, though sketchy. “I hope you’re soon well, Sarah.” I shouted, with my hands cupped to my lips. I hoped she could hear me. I waved, walking backwards away from the Thackeray mansion, until we were out of sight of one another. When I arrived home, I saw the lanky mail carrier hastening his horse to the next deposit. I dashed to our mail-box, snatched a letter as though I were some parasite thief, treaded softly through the doorway holding my breath, and removed my outer-wear trying to appear fancy-free. “Hello Mamma. Sarah's ill so I think I’ll stay indoors and relax.” Mamma knew I wasn’t one for resting during the middle of the day. I had some secrets up my sleeve and I had to work out strategies of how I could manage them. Mamma hadn’t any notion of what I was up to, which made me feel grown-up. One secret was one that I had to keep even if my life depended on it; the other was just a silly secret I dreamt up. The dexterous handwriting with my name stretching across the face of the envelope and a sweet lavender scent pressed me with urgency. I hastened to my curtained bedroom, and with a sharp-edged knife I slipped from the table, proceeded to undo the envelope. Impatience stopped me in my effort. Blood spewed over the entire envelope. “Oh, no! What is wrong with me?” I said. I could no longer keep this harrowing incident undercover. I rushed from my bedroom, searching for Mamma. “Mamma! Mamma! Where are you?” I cried. I was losing a great deal of blood and the distress signal was flashing in my head. Mamma entered from the out-of-doors replacing the braided rug at the base of the doorway. She took one look at me and became as frenzied as I. “What have you done to yourself, Lucy? Come quickly!” she said, unable to hide her anguish. I didn’t answer hoping we didn’t have to discuss the ‘how’ right then. I had enough to contend with at the moment. Mamma sat me on the wooden chair at the table and sped about in a twirl. She poured water into the hand basin from the large water pitcher, set it on the table and placed my hand in the cold, biting water. “What did you do to yourself? How did this happen?” Questions multiplied like the on the moment quizzes Sister Marie pounced at us in school. Only, this quiz had just one recipient to answer and my lips were glued shut. The clear water altered to a crimson red. “Stay here while I search out some binding.” Mamma said. I felt light-headed, sick to my stomach and my finger throbbed to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I awoke on the floor, Mamma by my side. She swabbed my forehead with an ice-cold cloth in one hand and toyed with my long curls with the other. “You’ll be just fine, Lucy.” Her encouraging words relieved me but there seemed to be a question mark written on her face. “It wasn’t half as bad as it first looked. How are you feeling now?” said Mamma. “Oh, I’m much better Mamma. It barely hurts at all.” I became anxious. Next, she might ask how the gash occurred. Then, she wouldn’t stop badgering me until she came up with the answer. The knife! Mamma mustn’t discover that I laid a hand on that sharp blade or she would have reason to give it to me good. “Mamma, are you well? You look haggarded. Why don’t you go for a nap while the boys are asleep?” My finger was now bandaged and I wanted to get back to my letter and see if it was readable or completely damaged, but I noticed my folly had taken a toll on Mamma. I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was for her to suffer for my lack of consideration. Mamma took my counsel and headed for her bed. I was pleased she decided to take a few minutes to herself and rest her fatigued body but I felt a twinge of guilt. Was I truly concerned for her or was I self-absorbed? These were questions I’d have to wrestle with many times in my later life. I returned to my bedroom, picked up the blood-stained envelope and removed the letter. Not a word was spoilt from the bloody episode. Immediately, I tossed the bloody envelope into the fire, destroying all semblance of mischief. Lucy, darling, Your letter brought tears to my eyes. As for your Papa’s new employment at the Railway Station, I can’t imagine the blessing this will be to the entire family. I’m so proud of your Mamma. She’s an angel and my best friend. I’m doing well in my studies, especially in my writing class. Mr. Morley, my instructor is inspiring and has said that my writing style is high-quality and I’ve an exceptional imagination. Nevertheless, he insists that I must write from the heart and on the subject I’m most passionate about. I’m beginning to meet young people as well. At first, I was very lonely but last Saturday; I was invited for a sleigh ride with my classmates. We set off riding up and down the valley, singing the school songs we’re learning. What fun! Well, I must say good-bye, dear Lucy. I miss you! Please continue to pen me a note now and again. Much love, Sincerely, Your Aunt Rebecca P.S. Please give your Mamma and Papa a big hug for me and wish them well. I read the letter repeatedly, finally tucking it away in my skirt pocket. Write on the subject you’re most passionate about. The statement lodged in my mind like the poem, The Arrow and the Song, I needed to commit to memory for my English class. From that time, Literature became my favorite subject. My resolution was to become a replica of Aunt Rebecca. She was orderly, thorough and yet so fun to be around.
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