Just another story...

Submitted into Contest #24 in response to: Write a magical realism story that takes place in the Wild West.... view prompt

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Fantasy

 

 

Another story taken from time

Here is yet another rhyme

It may seem too good to be true

It happened to someone I knew

So here is the real deal

As I tell you how it happened in this reel

 

 

 

The sun was already hot, and the air, humid, the year, somewhere in the 1880's, on a tropical island. There were two of them, brother and sister, and their mother, Carissa.   Every morning, before getting ready to go to school,  Cuthbert and Joanie would assist with food preparation, which would be stewing on the open earthed fire.  Joanie was getting ready outside, while Carissa, dressed from head to toe in a long full length dress, tilling the soil. Joanie was accustomed taking a shower with the hose,  the warm water from the pipe caressing her dark skin and her hair fell in two long plaits down to her back.  It would be a long day for all of them. 

Cuthbert and Joanie would sit together against the old wooden table, which was scrubbed clean, the condiments placed were, 2 mugs of fresh milk, cornmeal porridge, as they ate, not a word would come from their mouths, until they were finished. The remainder of the food would be stored in containers for the rest of the day.  Carissa was still out in the land, tilling the soil, and they knew they had no time to talk to her as they had to be in school at a certain time. There was a severe penalty if they were late.

Cuthbert was the oldest, and always walked ahead of Joanie, but she always carried the lunch as the two raced in the heat to get to school for 0845am.  When they reached the entrance of the school gate, St Hilda's Girls, Cuthbert had a little way to go to get to his, St. John's Boys School.

All of the schools were similar within that period, first there would be child inspection, to see how clean they were, then each child would be lined up until the first bell rang, which meant they had to walk in pairs to their classroom. Joanie was among the other 7 year olds, all subjects were taught by the same teacher of that year. 

          English, Arithmetic, Science and Home study.

Joanie was always top of the class, and on some occasions, she would be asked to help the other students, with the head teachers' permission. There were only 10 of them in the class room, the head was a strict, stern woman, Miss Knowles, if no one knew the answer to the question, she had her stick ready and was never afraid to use it.

Joanie was getting ready for dinner time, she had to take her bundle to the park next to her brother's school as they were sharing the dish made that morning. They would laugh and joke with each other until they heard the bell and would head back. School would finish at 15.00pm, apart from on Fridays' when they would go an hour early on account of the fisherman arriving at the bay to sell their catch. 

The evening came,  Carissa was busy cooking a concoction on the pot, Joanie arrived first, with fish from the bay. It was the national food dish 'Flying Fish' and she began to help clean and bone them. Cuthbert, arrived several hours later, he had a small job in the city, it was a hard life trying to keep their head above water. He had a large plate before him, Carissa, would sit in the rocking chair smoking her pipe, watching the night sky, drinking her large mug of coffee, thinking of him. It had been nearly ten years since, Mo passed away, he was a fisherman, and every morning he would lead his crew to sea. It was one early August, there was no sign of the fishing boat, as time grew, there were men lined up waiting, it was when they first saw the empty wreckage, they knew it wasn't good news. 

 

Joanie's Story:

I remembered like it was yesterday, I was 5 years old, the house was full, didn't know who they were, I kept on following Cuthbert, anyway, the years past without thinking about him. That is where I started focussing my mind on something else, I learnt to sew, as well as being top of the class at school, I use to go to Miss Clarke for official lessons. It would take another ten years before I would establish myself, at the back of the house, with my own personal clients. It was one way to make our life better. Cuthbert had his own apprenticeship, somewhere in the town, I wasn't too sure what he did, but between us, our heads was always in the air.  I used to love the weekends, going down to the bay, it was my time of freedom. 

 

January 17, 2020 13:39

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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