Ancestors And Who They Were

    DISCLAIMER: Everything I write is fiction. Nothing in here is true, I just have a weird imagination. 

“Cheryl Hamorgale! Get down here now!” Abby yelled up the stairs.

    “Goodness, mother! I’m coming!” Cheryl stomped down the stairs, “Mother, you scream so loud people can probably hear you in Antartica, and we live in Illinois!” 

“Oh be quiet, eat your breakfast.” Abby placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Cheryl.   

“Mother. Did you save your throw up and put it in a bowl for me to eat?! I’m flattered yet disgusted!” Cheryl exclaimed.

“It’s oatmeal! You’ll be fine!” 

“What about Eli! He never gets this crap I do! He gets cereal or a waffle!”

“It’s because I’m the favorite!” Elijah exclaimed as he ran into the kitchen.

“Shut up, twerp.” Cheryl smacked  him on the head.

“Hey!!!” He slapped her back and all the sudden, a fight broke out.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!!” Abby went in the middle and pulled them away.

“Mother let me go, I'm just getting started with that ugly middle schooler!”

“And I’m going to beat that twerp to a pulp!” Cheryl exclaimed.

“Violence is never the answer. Now eat before I beat up both of you!!”

“Whatever. Oh, by the way, Quinn and I wanted to come here after school to work on our school history project, she told me Kori’s throwing some ‘spiritual study sessions’, her words not mine.”

“Typical Kori. What does Velma say about this sudden spiritual awakening?” Velma is Cheryl’s best friend's mother

“Not sure, she is always super busy with Orrin. He’s only like 3 months old.” 

“Oh yeah. Also, I never heard anything about this history project?”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you yet, mother.” Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Clearly! Now, get out. You have school. I’m driving Eli, need a ride?” 

“Nope! I’m going to walk to Quinn’s and get her.” 

“Oh okay, bye.”

“Bye.” Cheryl walked out of her house and ran over to Quinn’s. They’ve been next door neighbor’s since they were babies, practically.

“Quinn!” Cheryl yelled as she walked into Quinn’s house.

“Quinn! Your dumb friend is here!” Her sister Kori yelled.

“Love you too, Kori.” Cheryl patted her on the back as she walked by.

“Here I am! Sorry I dropped my books, then my glasses.” Quinn rushed down the stairs to Cheryl, and hugged her.

“Hey, girl.” Cheryl said.

“Hey.” 

“Cheryl, did your mother ever teach you to knock?” Velma asked as she walked by curdling Orrin in her arms.

“Velma, I’m a Hamorgale kid. I do whatever I feel is best for me.”

“Trust me, I grew up with your mother, I know.” They laughed together for a couple seconds, “Bye Quinny-Pie!” Velma gave Quinn a long hug, Cheryl stood there, awkwardly and began laughing. 

“Bye.” Quinn and Cheryl walked out as she laughed.

“Awe, Quinny-Pie.” Cheryl laughed again.

“I’m going to kill you!” Cheryl ran out as Quinn ran after her.

“Race you to school?” Cheryl asked.

“Wha-.”

“Go!” Cheryl began running.

“Wait!” Quinn ran after her, Cheryl was way too fast. 

They arrived at school and went to their homerooms. The day always goes by slow, until the fifth period. History class, the one class Quinn and Cheryl have together.

“Hey, girl!” Cheryl said.

“Hey, Cheryl.”  

“Ms. Jefferson is giving out today’s history project. What do you think it’s gonna be about?” Cheryl asked.

“Not sure, but I’m gonna ace it either way.” 

“And I’ll probably fail.”

    “That’s just how the cycle usually is.” Cheryl and Quinn laughed, then Ms. Jefferson walked in.

    “Settle down, urchins, settle down.” Ms. Jefferson went over to the white board and wrote ‘Ancestors And Who They Were’.

    “I wonder what this is about?” Quinn asked.

    “Our ancestors, moron.”

“Whatever.”  They quickly focused on Ms. Jefferson.

    “This week's project is due Friday. The prompt is to write a report about your ancestors and where they are from and who they were. For example, in my report I would write that my ancestors were teachers, like me. They also came from Norway.”

“That’s so easy.” Cheryl whispered to Quinn.

“But don’t just say where they were from and what they did. Get more in depth with your project. Explain what challenges you think they faced, and why they wanted to do what they do, their inner emotions!” Ms. Jefferson kept blabbing on, Cheryl and Quinn couldn’t have it.

“She just made this stupid project way harder.”

“Not really, I’m going to still ace it.”

“Whatever, what do you know about your ancestors?” Cheryl asked.

“My ancestors were pig farmers. Yours?” Quinn asked. 

    “I never really knew about my ancestors. Considering I never knew my father, I did hear he didn’t have much of a family. My mom has a big family though. She has three sisters and eight brothers.”

    “Don’t worry, I get the whole no dad scenario. Also, I had no idea. How come you never talk about your-” Ms. Jefferson smacked her hand down on the table.

    “Quinn, Cheryl. Is there something you would like to share with the class?” 

    “Just that,” Cheryl had to think quickly. Then, an idea sprung, “Oh my gosh! Someone let Kelly out of her cage!” Kelly is the class pet tarantula.

    “Kelly?!” 

    “Look down there!” One of the students said. Ms. Jefferson let out a huge scream as she realized she had Kelly on her leg.

    “Get her off! Get her off!” Cheryl and Quinn laughed and ran out.

    “Damn, we got lucky!” Quinn said as they ran.

    “Did you take the slip about the history assignment?” Cheryl asked.

    “Of course I did, I’m a nerd not a rebel.” They ran to the principal’s office and told them about Kelly. 

    The rest of the day went by slow. They eventually arrived at Cheryl's house to start their history project.

    “I still cannot believe Kelly got out of her cage!” Quinn exclaimed.

    “Well, when your teacher gets her pet tarantula a cage big enough for a fat rabbit, it’s destined to get out. It just happened to be fate!”

    “Did you see her face when she realized she had a tarantula on her leg! In Kelly’s defense, if I was locked up all day and night in a cage like her, I’d want to kill my owner too!” They both laughed as they walked into Cheryl’s house. 

    “Mother! Quinn and I are here!!!” Cheryl yelled as she dropped her bag.

    “Okay!!” Abby yelled back. 

    “Hey, Cheryl.”  Eli said as he walked down the stairs, “O-Oh. Hey, Quinn.”

“Hey little dude.” Quinn hugged him.

    “I-I got to… go poop!” He awkwardly ran out of the room.

    “That was weird.” Quinn said.

    “That kid’s got a crush on you.” Cheryl started laughing, Quinn soon followed.

    “Anyways, shouldn’t you ask your mom for some information about your family? For the project?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah. What about you? Do you have anything for the project?”

“In fact I do!” Quinn pulled a giant book out of her back pack.

“Wait, how did you get that fast? We only found out about the theme of the project today?” Cheryl asked.

“Ms. Jefferson emails me all of the history projects in advance. I’m a special student!” Quinn smiled proudly.

“Dude, that’s not something you should be proud of. It’s sad.” Cheryl began to laugh and Quinn’s smile turned into a frown.

“Let’s just start our project.” Quinn opened her book and began to write about how her ancestors came from Altai, Russia.

“Altai?” Cheryl asked.

“Yeah, I know right. Turn’s out I’m russian! Weird.” 

“How did you even find this out?” Cheryl asked.

“My meemaw was visiting last night and I asked her all about my ancestors. She said my great, great, great grandmother, Angela Verenich immigrated here in 1872. During that time, Jewish people in Russia faced discrimination and restrictions on movement and land ownership in the country. She had to immigrate to the United States because she was Jewish! She was trying to escape restrictions placed upon the Jewish by Russian czars.” 

“Wow, I didn’t know how complicated your family was.” Cheryl looked down at her paper, she realized it was blank. She had nothing written.

“Cheryl?” Quinn said.

“Yeah?”

“Get your mom down here to tell you about your ancestors, this is an important project, and it’ll help you learn about your family.” 

“Fine. Mother!” Cheryl yelled.

    “What is it?” Abby asked as she walked into the kitchen.

    “We have this stupid history project about our ancestors and who they were and stuff. Can you tell me about them or get me a book?”

    “Oh yeah, I have a book upstairs, let me get it.” Abby ran up the stairs to fetch the history book.

    “Happy?” Cheryl asked Quinn.

    “Very. Maybe you’ll even pass this time!” 

    “Very funny, nerd.” 

    “Here!” Abby slammed a huge book on the kitchen table.

    “Mother, are you completely mad?!” 

“You asked for a book so I got you a book. This was your great, great, great grandmother's journal from 1876. Her name was Anastasie Hamorgale.”

“Anastasie? She must’ve been french.” Quinn said.

“Of course, you’d know that.” Cheryl responded.

“Anyways, she writes all about her hometown, her life, her travels to!” 

“Fine, thanks.” Abby walked off as Cheryl dug into the book. 

About 2 hours passed, Cheryl and Quinn were so caught up in their studies that they barely acknowledged each other's company.

“Cheryl!” Quinn yelled.

“What?! Is someone dying!?” Cheryl yelled as her head finally got away from Anastasie’s journal.

“I thought you were dead! Your head’s been so buried in that book. What’s so intriguing about it?” Quinn asked.

“Well, Anastasie came to this country from France all on her own in 1876. She hijacked a ship and ended up making it to Wisconsin!”

“Wow, Wisconsin! The cheese capital of America.”

“Nobody cares, let me continue!” Cheryl yelled.

“Fine.”

“She then hopped a train to Oregon. Anastasie made a living as the first female unidentified criminal in the 1800s!”

“Criminal?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah! She traveled and robbed so many different states, California, Massachusetts, Louisiana. She took jewels, horses, and so many other things! She even made her way to Washington where she stole a very important and expensive painting in the white house!”

“Wow!” Quinn exclaimed.

“Indeed. Eventually, Anastasie traveled to Illinois, she absolutely loved it and decided to make a living here. Anastasie also found love in Illinois, my great, great, great grandfather Abadie Lester. They married each other and had 16 children! Anastasie kept her last name though, she wanted future Hammorgale children to carry on her legacy.”

“Wow, your grandmother sure was fertile.” Quinn said.

“Indeed, it’s just so cool! Anastasie was a criminal! And she wrote basically her whole life down in this one measly book! Thank you, Anastasie! She just helped me ace this project! Or at least pass.” 

“Don’t forget what Ms. Jefferson said.” Quinn said.

“What’s that?”

“She said, and I quote, ‘Get more in depth with your project. Explain what challenges you think they faced, and why they wanted to do what they do, their inner emotions’ her words, not mine friend.”

“Challenges Anastasie faced… maybe struggling to hop a train in time?” Cheryl and Quinn chuckled.

“No, she means emotionally. Like my family, I wrote that Angela faced hate and discrimation just because she was a different religion. She fought for herself and her peers, yet still had to leave. She had to take big risks just to have a better life.” 

“Damn, that is deep. I don’t know if I can write that good.”

“Yeah, I believe you can. Try and match it?”

“Is that a challenge?” Cheryl asked.

“Oh yeah. You have two hours to get in depth with Anastasie.”

“You’re on hun!” Cheryl began writing on her paper. She had about 3 paragraphs of writing. She barely had very much, Quinn wasn’t sure if she’d pass.

“3...2...1… time!” Cheryl dropped her pencil.

“Booyah! Care to take a gander at what I wrote?” Cheryl asked.

“I would prefer if you read it to me.”

“Well, okay.” Cheryl gulped, “‘Anastasie Hamorgale, my great, great, great grandmother. From france. She immigrated here in 1876. Anastasie is probably the most exciting person I’ve ever read about. Want to know why? She was basically the most wanted woman of 1876. She was a robber, a thief, and a conniving liar. She even hijacked a ship to get to America. But she was the baddest grandma ever!’” 

“Well, uh.-”.

“Stop talking!” Cheryl yelled.

“Okay, okay! Continue with your report.” 

“‘Though her life was exciting, dramatic, and many other adjectives, she was most definitely lonely. You see, her journal has been passed down by Hamorgale’s for years. She wrote all about her thefts, travels, and life. She never wrote about her family, until she met Abadie. Abadie was my great, great, great grandfather. Once she met Abadie, she wrote that a void in her heart was filled, as if she had purpose. She eventually stopped stealing. She had 16 children and had a wonderful rest of her life. Riches and object’s don’t bring you happiness, that’s what my granny had to learn.’” Quinn began clapping.

“Amazing! Wow, I just said that to you. Damn times have changed and it’s only been 4 hours.”

“Was I accurate? Please give me your honest opinion.” Cheryl said.

“100%! You were probably right about Anastasie, objects don’t make you happy, it’s love and family that does.” 

“You know, she wrote a lot about Abadie. She also put a portrait of her and her family in the book.” She showed Quinn the picture.

“Talk about big families!”

“I know!”

“Are you ready to pass this in to Ms. Jefferson tomorrow?” Quinn asked.

“Yes, I think I am. I hope I finally pass something in this stupid class.” Cheryl patted Quinn on the back as she kept writing.

The next day came. The day Quinn and Cheryl had to pass in their reports. They walked to school discussing their projects.

    “Bring your paper’s up to the tray, students.” Ms. Jefferson slammed the tray down on the desk as the student got in line. 

    “Someone is still antsy about the Kelly situation. It was 2 days ago!” Quinn exclaimed.

    “She’ll get over it.” Cheryl put her paper in the bin, as did Quinn. 

    “How does it feel to have finally passed in this report? Good, bad, the same?” Quinn asked.

    “Actually, I feel pretty confident. I think I really did well.” Cheryl said.

    “Good! We get the results tomorrow. Oh and after school, want to go to ‘Gertrude’s Ice Cream Bar’ to celebrate that you actually passed your project?” 

    “Quinn, I haven’t actually passed yet. Nor got a grade.” 

    “Look, I know you’re going to pass! Come on, I need some ice cream.” 

    “Fine! Is she going to tell us our grade or do it via email?” Cheryl asked

    “Yeah, email I think, that’s what she usually does.” 

    “Sweet, now let’s shut up and get through this stupid day, I need ice cream now too.”

    The day went by, slow as usual. The next day, Quinn and Cheryl were meeting at Quinns house for the grades. 

    “Okay, the emails were sent! Are you ready?” Quinn asked.

    “Yes.” 

    “3...2...1!” They clicked on the email.

    “I got an A!” Cheryl exclaimed.

    “I got… a B.” 

    “Yay! We passed!” Cheryl went to hug Quinn.

    “I didn’t pass! I got a B!” 

    “What are you talking about.. You got a B. That’s a passing grade.”

    “Not in the book of Quinn!” 

    “Chill out dude, it’s just a B.” Kori snarked as she walked through the room.

    “Kori! You’re a wonderful sight to see… actually, never mind. You’re literally the last person on this planet I’d want to be talking to.” Cheryl laughed as she heard Quinn say this.

    “I like angry you! So snarky.”

    “I’m just stopping in for my sage energy drink. Gives me spiritual connections.”

    “You sound like a deluded housewife, Kori.” Cheryl said.

    “Whatever.” She walked off as Quinn laid her head on the table.

    “Come on, Quinn. It’s a stupid B.” 

    “Not to me! I usually get A’s! I feel like a failure.”

    “I legit passed the whole 5th grade solely on B’s. I think you’ll be fine. You know what we need!” Cheryl said.

    “What?” 

    “Day number 2 of ‘Gertrude’s Ice Cream Bar’. You down?” Cheryl asked.

    “Yeah.”

    “Okay bestie, let’s go get some ice cream.”