Generic Story Arc

I stood in the doorway of my grandmother’s sickroom. Until my departure from Andover, I had not known she was ill. My father had summarily sent me to his mother’s house, his childhood home, the family property, and her deathbed. Father had sent me, told me to take a taxi, and disregard the cost. He alerted me to my departure when he tipped me out of my bed, and told me to be on the front step within two minutes. His instructions were brisk, barely paused for insults, and my head had still been spinning when I staggered down the steps towards the nearest cab stand, a wad of uncounted bills clutched in one hand. I had taken a taxi, but I had taken a good taxi, my own passive aggressive revenge on his finances. I had thought, thought all the way through the bumpy roads out to what had once been a part of the town of Prescott, now part of New Salem. I knew better than to contest Father, I just had to survive, I was to leave for Europe in six days to spend the remainder of my time before college in the fall. I had finished high school some four months ago, and since had suffered Father’s whims. I would be nothing without his support and good will. It had been years since I had been here, a full four years, but, by the smile of some fate, I still remembered the turns on bumpy dirt roads, and the partly hidden turn off for the driveway.

Ten Cents

I never thought saving a dime could possibly cause that much trouble.  It was a dime, ten cents, no big deal, but it turned into a nightmare.  It started months before, with me getting an internship, but it really started in a phone call.

“Melia, remember, Arvid and Linnaea will meet you at the train.”

“Yes, I have their number, and I’ll call you if anything is going wrong.”  I was nearly breathless with anticipation.  I was traveling, most of my stuff had already been shipped, and I would be with the strange and utterly exciting conglomeration of my mother’s family.

“I’m not worried.  One more thing, could you pick up two five hundred foot spools of fishing line?  I need kite string.  I’ll give you the money.”  Cacia was insistent.  She was the most known of my mother’s family, a favored cousin, the family I would stay with for the spring and summer.

“Of course.”  At the time, I’d not realized just how much string I was agreeing to ferry.

Abandon

It was only chance that my step-sister, Tessi, was up at the house that weekend. She wasn’t usually, she was the only of my three step-siblings not to show up on a overly predictable schedule, Thursday nights to Sunday nights, college and jobs not withstanding. It was weirder than random chance, because, while I was at the house, Evan, my older brother, and my stepbrothers, Ian and Jan, were absent. Even weirder, my stepmother, Mae, was out of town for the weekend. Tessi never ever came to visit when Mae wasn’t home. Tessi rarely came to visit even when Mae was home; Mae visited Tessi more weeks than not.

My curiosity overcoming manners, I’d finally gotten it out of Pops that Tessi didn’t like to visit because of her father’s family. That’d not made much sense to me. Tessi and Granny Rose talked every day, Gramps always took Tessi, Jan, and Ian hunting, usually extending the invite to Evan and I, and Tessi lived on the same block as Aunt Bea. Pops was tactful with his explanation, but I guessed Tessi had a problem with Mr. Benedict. I’m not sure why she found him a problem, since Mr. Benedict only came down to the house on nights of the new moon. Usually, he stayed out at his lean to with his cases of beer, shotgun, beer can targets and trip-wires, deadly booby traps, and HAM radio. He did a bit of firewood on the side, at least enough for Mae’s woodstove to run all winter, but usually it was chopping deadfalls.
Evan said last time he’d seen Tessi in the city, they’d gone drinking. It’d been swell, he’d claimed, until, walking back to her apartment, she’d gone on a drunken rant about her hate for Mr. Benedict. I guessed that the reason Tessi never stayed for holidays, well, that, and being the only other girl, she had to bunk with me, and she hated to intrude like that.

A dinner in a box

The almost complete Begbie family was done for the day. They beached the four canoes on the broad river bank, and scrambled onto damp land. Popi Begbie was looking over his family with the intent of assigning tasks. He had been taking his family on wilderness outings for over twenty years, loading Helen and the five kids into the car to take off for two weeks of quality time. There were his children, Tommy, Robby, Samuel, and Kate, although one never knew what Tommy would do, and Kate just couldn’t be trusted, after she had called the cops ten years ago. His grandchildren, Mary, Charles, Scotty, and Flower, were at least more biddable, if currently whining, though he couldn’t stand the brats.
“Kate,” he ordered, “take them.” He gestured to the brats, Samuel and Tommy’s children, “and get firewood. We’ll set up camp.”
Kate left off stowing the canoe while exerting her negative influence over Mary, Scotty, and Flower. “Okay, Popi. Mary, Flower, Scotty, Charlie, let’s go see what we can find.” Mary, Scotty, and Flower immediately left off running up and down the riverbank to flock to her. Charlie, smart boy that he was, continued hurling rocks at the ducks.