A River of Fortune

Submitted into Contest #98 in response to: Set your story on (or in) a winding river.... view prompt

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Fiction Historical Fiction Inspirational

Amelia had lived on the river as long as she could remember. The home had been her great-grandfather’s home before it had become her grandfather’s and then eventually passed down to her father. Now it was her home, and the love she felt for it was immeasurable. Not only was there a sentimentality in the home itself, there was a depth of calmness and reassurance from the surging, winding river that ran past it and far beyond, providing a serenity as well as sustenance from its waters for all who resided therein.


The cabin’s furnishings were scarce and meager at best, but as with the cabin itself, many items had been passed down from generations of family members, and Amelia would have it no other way. There was a set of wooden rocking chairs that her great-grandfather had meticulously made once he’d arrived from Germany just after building the cabin. He’d also built the kitchen table and hutch with its intricate carvings that held her great-grandmother’s blue and white dishes. Her great-grandfather’s carpentry skills had been passed down to his son, to her father, and to her, and Amelia was able to make a fine chair or piece of furniture when she set her mind to it.


There were also the lovely and decoratively patterned rugs that rested on the floors before the hearth and the bed that her grandmother, who had hailed from Scotland, had woven. The multi-colored quilt covering the bed her great-grandfather had also made from cherry wood had been sewn by none other than her own mother, whom she dearly missed each and every day. Yes, the cabin – and the winding river – were both fervent reminders of everything and everyone dear to her.


Amelia sat this afternoon on the grassy hill along the river’s edge, a fishing pole in hand. She was intent on catching her supper. There was nothing like fresh bass, trout, or catfish from the river. Living alone, it did not require that she catch an abundance of fish, just one or two. That along with some vegetables from the garden would be an excellent meal. She watched as the lazy water rippled across the stones and down the winding pathway. The water was likely too cold yet to stick her feet in it, but she could hardly wait until warmer weather hit and she could enjoy all the benefits the river brought with it.


One hour later, three fish dangling from a line, Amelia made her way back to the cabin. Before she entered, she made quick work of scaling and gutting the fish to prepare it for the frying pan inside. She also stopped to pull some carrots and potatoes from the garden to compliment her meal. Yes, it would be a fine one, and she could already taste the wonderful food.


Once inside the cabin, Amelia chopped her vegetables and put them in a large pot of water to cook on the old black stove. She would wait to fry up the fish until last since it would not take very long to cook. In the meantime, she pulled out a loaf of homemade bread and sliced several pieces, placing them on a plate next to the butter and homemade crabapple jam on the table.


The year was 1933 and life was hard for so many people and had been for several years now. Amelia was more than thankful that she was able to sustain a living on her own land and not have to beg or move far away to make ends meet. As a single woman, she was proud of her abilities and independence. Her parents had left this world several years earlier, and she’d had no other relatives or siblings. However, she did not complain. With the bit of sewing she did for others in addition to the few pieces of furniture she was able to make, she was able to tuck away just enough money to buy necessities like flour and seeds for the garden, and also pay the taxes on the land once a year. Thus far, despite the Great Depression, she’d been able to manage.


Amelia was just beginning to put a bit of butter in her frying pan for the fish when there was a knock on her door. Quickly, she smoothed her hair back from her face and wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist. Who could be at her door at suppertime? It was likely someone traveling on the road along the river’s edge in search of food.


Striding to the door, she opened it to find a man who looked to be in his thirties with a young girl of no more than six years of age by his side. Surprise etched across Amelia’s face.


“May I help you?”


The man took his somewhat worn hat from his head and held it against his chest as he tightly gripped the young girl’s hand.


“Evening, Mam. Excuse me, but could my daughter and I trouble you for a bit of water? We’ve been walking for quite some while now.”


Amelia immediately took note of the tired concern in the man’s deep green eyes, and she knew from where he stood that he could easily smell the aromas of food that filled her cabin. She looked down at the sad eyes of the little girl and without hesitation answered the man’s question as she stepped back from the door’s threshold.


“Forgive my manners. Please come inside. I have pitchers of fresh water and milk from which you are welcome to drink your fill. And I am just preparing dinner, and since there is more food than I alone can eat, I beg you to join me.”


The man’s green eyes lightened with surprise as he looked down at the young girl. She looked up at her father expectantly, a timid look on her young face, but one entreating her father to say ‘yes’.


“Mam, we’d be delighted to join you for dinner, if you have enough to spare. My name is Jonathan and this is my daughter, Susie.”


“Hello, Jonathan….and Susie. I’m Amelia. And I promise I have more than enough. Why just this afternoon I caught three fish as if I knew I’d have company!” Amelia gave the little girl a big smile and was pleased when she smiled back, still tightly holding her father’s hand and a doll in the other.


Assured her guests had drinks before them at the table, Amelia proceeded to quickly fry the fish and then placed everything on the table along with two extra place settings of her of great-grandmother’s china. It was a special occasion to be able to use it for someone other than herself. While she rarely got lonely at the cabin, she did enjoy company whenever she had it.


As Amelia passed the bowls of food to Jonathan, she eyed Susie. No child should have to endure travels on the road for such an indeterminate period of time without consistent shelter and food. Her heart broke for the little girl.


“So, Susie,” she said. “How old might you be?”


Susie looked at her father questioningly, and after he nodded, she timidly answered, “I’m six years old.”


“And who is that?” Amelia pointed at the small doll clutched tightly in Susie’s left hand as she began to eat.


“Oh, this is Cathy. She’s named after Momma,” Susie said, clutching the doll even tighter if possible.


Johnathan smiled ruefully at Amelia and added, “My wife died many years ago, but Susie clings to her memory.”


Amelia nodded. "Well, you are both very pretty," she said to Susie, who smiled in response.


After several lapsed minutes, Amelia asked Jonathan, “Are you searching for work?”


“Yes, I pick up odd jobs whenever and wherever I can. Unfortunately, it means a great deal of moving from here to there,” Jonathan said as he took a bite of his fish and smiled. “This is delicious, and I can’t thank you enough.”


“It’s nothing,” Amelia said. “I’m glad you found my cabin. I had more than enough to spare. The river ensures that I eat on a regular basis.”


Jonathan looked toward the window where he could see the river stretching far beyond and smiled. “It’s a lovely spot,” he said. “Have you lived here long?”


“Yes, the cabin's been in my family for generations.”


Jonathan nodded, continuing to eat in silence, making sure Susie’s cup of milk was replenished whenever necessary knowing full well it might be the last cup she had for a while.


Amelia’s mind was moving in constant circles with questions and ideas. She desperately wanted to help this man and his young daughter.


“Tell me, Jonathan, have you ever done any woodworking or carpentry work?”


“Why actually, yes,” he answered. “While living in Boston, I was able to work as an apprentice for a furniture business. Why do you ask?”


Amelia tilted her head, several thoughts at play in her mind. She did not know this man from atom, but something in the pit of her stomach was telling her to do her best to help him. And Amelia always tried to listen to what her gut told her to do.


“Well, I was just thinking….”


“Yes?” Jonathan stopped eating and looked questioningly at Amelia. As if sensing the seriousness in Amelia's and her father's voices, Susie also momentarily stopped eating and looked expectantly at Amelia.


“Well, you see, I sort of make pieces of furniture – it’s something my father taught me how to do. He was taught by his father who was taught by his father. Well, you know what I mean,” Amelia laughed a bit nervously.


Amelia felt like she was rambling. ‘Get on with it and spit it out girl,’ she thought to herself, which was something her father used to always say to her.


“And?” It was apparent that Jonathan was keenly interested in whatever else Amelia might say at this point.


“And well, I was thinking, if you have experience, perhaps you and Susie could stay out in the shed behind my house. It’s little, but it has everything you might need including a wood burning stove and two small beds with heavy quilts. And I was thinking….”


Before she could say another word, Jonathan began eagerly shaking his head affirmatively. “I’ll do anything you need me to do, Miss Amelia,” he said, his eyes filling with a mixture of hope and the sheen of tears.


Amelia’s heart was touched, and she knew that following her instincts was the right thing to do. “Maybe between the two of us, we could start our own furniture business. one day It's something I've always dreamed of doing. It wouldn’t be much at first, but hopefully, whenever this horrid depression ends, we’d have something substantial upon which we could build. Until then, maybe you could help around the place with repairs and gardening and such. Between the garden and the river and the cow, we won’t go hungry, that’s for sure.” When Amelia got nervous, she tended to ramble on endlessly, and as she realized she was doing just that, she stopped speaking for a moment to allow the awestruck man seated beside her an opportunity to respond.


Jonathan looked at Amelia in amazement, all thought of food gone from his mind for the moment. Who was this woman? Was she an angel? She must be. When he’d knocked on the cabin door, he had only hoped for something cool to drink, and before he knew it, he had not only a cool drink for himself and Susie, but he also had a full table of food from which he could partake. And now she was offering him shelter and work. Did grown men cry? He was sure he was about to break down and release years of tired frustration and need because of this kind, beautiful woman’s large heart and generosity.


“And please, I insist you call me Amelia – not ‘Miss Amelia’,” Amelia laughed. “Especially if you accept my offer, and we’re to be partners, in a manner of speaking.”


Jonathan reached across the table and covered Amelia’s hand with his. She immediately recognized the strength, warmth, and tenderness in the touch. His green eyes were full of emotion, and if was as if he did not trust himself to speak for a few minutes and simply nodded his head in agreement instead.


At long last, he said, “Amelia, I accept your kind offer. Susie and I will be most comfortable in the shed, and I am happy to do whatever you need me to do until we can begin to make the furniture.”


Amelia smiled, reassured by the warmth in his touch and the light in his green eyes. Looking at Susie, she asked, “Is that all right with you, Susie? And Cathy, of course? Would you like to stay here?”


Susie shook her head up and down repeatedly and leaned into her daddy’s side as her milk-stained smile grew. When she looked back up, she said, “And can we have fish to eat every single day? Please.”


Amelia and Jonathan laughed. “Yes, Susie, we can have fish as much as you want and as long as our long, winding river provides it. But I have a feeling that there’s more fish in that river than all three of us can ever eat!”


“Goodie!” Susie said.


Jonathan looked at Amelia again. “I don’t know how to thank you. Your kindness....”


“Hush now,” Amelia answered, slightly embarrassed. “I am delighted to have the company. And besides, one day, we shall be famous makers of furniture.”



And indeed, many years later, long after the years of the Great Depression suffered by so many, Amelia and Jonathan joined not only in business but in life as man and wife. Their furniture business went on to be one of the most prominent in the Highlands of North Carolina. And it all began in a small cabin along a long, winding river that gave so much to so many in a time of great need. And all because one strong, independent young woman followed her gut instincts, forging a bond of kindness and generosity where there was an immense need.


June 15, 2021 22:15

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2 comments

Amanda Lieser
15:59 Jun 24, 2021

Hi Cindy, I really loved that your piece was set in 1933. I love a good period piece. I felt absolutely transported to the character’s life on the beach. I thought you did a great job of weaving a story of opportunity. The one thing I noticed was that the story was wrapped up a bit quicker at the end. As a reader, I wanted more! My favorite part was “Amelia immediately took note of the tired concern in the man’s deep green eyes, and she knew from where he stood that he could easily smell the aromas of food that filled her cabin.” Thank you ...

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Cindy Calder
16:05 Jun 24, 2021

Thank you so much for your positive input! I am very pleased you enjoyed the story. Often, because of the limitations with the number of words that may be used, I have to wrap stories up sooner or in lesser ways than I would desire to do. Several times, I've felt that there is another story or a deeper storyline to stories that I write. Perhaps I should develop these types of stories a bit more and do a collection of short stories - who knows? Again, thank you for your kind words!

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