Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html by Brianna Lee McKenzie Page A
Authors: Brianna Lee McKenzie
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Abigail’s?”
“No,” he said in exasperation. With a heavy sigh he knew that he could not explain to a child of her age what happened to her mother so he changed the subject himself, asking as he peered into the box once again, “What else do you have in there?”
She slammed the lid shut and crossed her forearms over it as she looked him straight in the face and said in a grown-up voice, “It belongs to that bad man doesn’t it?”
Travis nodded, pushing back the anger that welled up in his chest and he watched as she took the crest from his hand and wadded it up while she walked toward the trash receptacle and then tossed it away, her actions showing the anger that tore through her tiny body. With pride, he welcomed her into his lap and held her with the fresh, new love that blossomed in his heart.
As he cuddled his daughter, he felt the tug of affection for her and the urge to nurture this little girl with all the parental perception that he could glean from his once-hardened heart. He wanted to swear to her and to himself that he would never leave her again, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew that his need for revenge would return and he would have to answer it, daughter or not.
As he squeezed her one more time, he heard a ringing in the room and he loosened his grip slightly as Hannah pulled away and excitedly stumbled to the table in the corner of the room.
She picked up the receiver of the telephone and spoke into the base as if she knew exactly what she was doing, “Hello. Who is this?”
Travis watched as she shifted her weight from one leg to another in impatience as she waited for the other party to explain themselves, then she nodded and threw down the receiver while she shouted, “I’ll get her!”
With that, she skipped out the door and disappeared. She returned moments later behind Abigail, who picked up the receiver and the base and began a conversation with the person on the other end of the line.
“It’s her daughter,” Hannah explained in a whisper as she took up the box and began replacing the items into it while she stood in front of him.
“Let’s give her some privacy,” Travis offered as he guided her out of the room and into the kitchen.
There, he peered into the oven and checked on the biscuits, then closed the door again and turned around to see Hannah setting the table with expert care. He put his hands on his hips and marveled at her concentration as she placed each plate just so and then followed with the flatware, adjusting them as she went and not moving on to the next setting until she was satisfied that each one was perfect.
Abigail returned to the kitchen and nodded with an approving smile at Hannah, who smiled up at the old woman in pride before she skipped out of the room again. Travis watched the dancing curls bounce about the little girl’s head before he turned to check on the biscuits again and received a smack with the end of a tea towel by Abigail, who narrowed her eyes at him and clucked her tongue.
“I told you to let me take care of supper,” she scolded lightheartedly.
“I know,” Travis said as he peered over her shoulder at the scrambled eggs in the pan. “But, you were busy. And how the heck did we get a telephone? I’ve only seen those in hotels and banks and rich folks’ homes.”
As she scooped the fluffy eggs onto a plate beside a pile of crisp bacon, Abigail answered with a nod towards the table while handing the plate to him, “When Tom’s heart began failing, he refused to move closer to the doctor so I talked him into getting it for emergencies. It saved a lot of time the first two spells he had. The third--that happened in a matter of minutes and no new-fangled telephone would save him. You can have it taken out, but it cost a lot of money to have the lines brought in from the city, so I recommend you keep it. You never know what will happen out here in the flats.”
Travis agreed. With a
“No,” he said in exasperation. With a heavy sigh he knew that he could not explain to a child of her age what happened to her mother so he changed the subject himself, asking as he peered into the box once again, “What else do you have in there?”
She slammed the lid shut and crossed her forearms over it as she looked him straight in the face and said in a grown-up voice, “It belongs to that bad man doesn’t it?”
Travis nodded, pushing back the anger that welled up in his chest and he watched as she took the crest from his hand and wadded it up while she walked toward the trash receptacle and then tossed it away, her actions showing the anger that tore through her tiny body. With pride, he welcomed her into his lap and held her with the fresh, new love that blossomed in his heart.
As he cuddled his daughter, he felt the tug of affection for her and the urge to nurture this little girl with all the parental perception that he could glean from his once-hardened heart. He wanted to swear to her and to himself that he would never leave her again, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew that his need for revenge would return and he would have to answer it, daughter or not.
As he squeezed her one more time, he heard a ringing in the room and he loosened his grip slightly as Hannah pulled away and excitedly stumbled to the table in the corner of the room.
She picked up the receiver of the telephone and spoke into the base as if she knew exactly what she was doing, “Hello. Who is this?”
Travis watched as she shifted her weight from one leg to another in impatience as she waited for the other party to explain themselves, then she nodded and threw down the receiver while she shouted, “I’ll get her!”
With that, she skipped out the door and disappeared. She returned moments later behind Abigail, who picked up the receiver and the base and began a conversation with the person on the other end of the line.
“It’s her daughter,” Hannah explained in a whisper as she took up the box and began replacing the items into it while she stood in front of him.
“Let’s give her some privacy,” Travis offered as he guided her out of the room and into the kitchen.
There, he peered into the oven and checked on the biscuits, then closed the door again and turned around to see Hannah setting the table with expert care. He put his hands on his hips and marveled at her concentration as she placed each plate just so and then followed with the flatware, adjusting them as she went and not moving on to the next setting until she was satisfied that each one was perfect.
Abigail returned to the kitchen and nodded with an approving smile at Hannah, who smiled up at the old woman in pride before she skipped out of the room again. Travis watched the dancing curls bounce about the little girl’s head before he turned to check on the biscuits again and received a smack with the end of a tea towel by Abigail, who narrowed her eyes at him and clucked her tongue.
“I told you to let me take care of supper,” she scolded lightheartedly.
“I know,” Travis said as he peered over her shoulder at the scrambled eggs in the pan. “But, you were busy. And how the heck did we get a telephone? I’ve only seen those in hotels and banks and rich folks’ homes.”
As she scooped the fluffy eggs onto a plate beside a pile of crisp bacon, Abigail answered with a nod towards the table while handing the plate to him, “When Tom’s heart began failing, he refused to move closer to the doctor so I talked him into getting it for emergencies. It saved a lot of time the first two spells he had. The third--that happened in a matter of minutes and no new-fangled telephone would save him. You can have it taken out, but it cost a lot of money to have the lines brought in from the city, so I recommend you keep it. You never know what will happen out here in the flats.”
Travis agreed. With a
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