Books and ButterscotchA Story by BreezyThe strongest memory I have is climbing to the top of my
mother’s 1975 Maple Wood carved bookcase to get my grubby hands on the bright
red book and butterscotch candies. I remember falling off that
bookcase after hearing my mother call my name sharply"I was in trouble. Though she didn't tan my hide just then because I split my eight-year old head open
on the coffee table"no, Mother waited until I could see straight a week later to
give me that beating. When I was thirteen, I was still much the troublemaker I was
at eight. I frequently skipped class to read in the library"a habit quickly
learned by my teachers as they had no trouble finding me after the first two
weeks of school. After the third consecutive time my mother was called to the school,
I was grounded. No video games, no computer, no TV. Fortunately for me, I
preferred reading to gaming and watching TV. At the age of sixteen, I had read all of the books in the
school and public library, and my mother’s personal library"save that red
volume that was hidden with the butterscotch candies. And since my trouble
making went from twelve groundings a year to three, I was able to convince my mother
to take me to the book store in town. What was interesting about this experience
was that I bypassed all the books my classmates were reading. I went for Tennyson
and Byron and Austen. We walked out of that store with 3 works of literature. At nineteen, I was finishing up my first year of college"I was
a Literature major. Just before finals week, I got a care package from my aunt.
It consisted of six boxes of strawberry pop-tarts, beef-jerky, a stress ball, a
pack of socks, and a brown box the size of my Shakespeare textbook. I took the
box out of the package and used a pair of neon green scissors to cut the tape
on the mysterious gift. I cried when I opened it. The box consisted of the red
volume that was normally hidden at the top of my Mother’s book case and a pack
of butterscotch candies. When I flipped the cover open, written in my mother’s
flowing script, the title read To My
Darling Daughter. © 2015 BreezyFeatured Review
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2 Reviews Added on October 29, 2015 Last Updated on November 2, 2015 Tags: mother, books, candy, growing up AuthorBreezyTNAboutI'm a small town country girl who loves a good ghost story every now and again. I love to read and write stories in my free time. I hope to travel the world someday and write about that experience. more..Writing
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