The News Hit Hard

The News Hit Hard

A Story by Kay
"

This is a little historical fiction story that I wrote a long long time ago in a galaxy far far away. Just kidding. I know this is not my best work and it is a real fixer upper but I hope you will help make this story the gem it is.

"

 

"Cathy, get up, almost time for breakfast," Mother called up trying not to wake the rest of the household. Feeling like she had ten-pound weights on her eyes, she had to fight to get up.

"OK dear"

"Ever since those borders came I have to make their stupid breakfast" Cathy mumbled.

"Ouch these flour bag skirts are so rough they scratched my skin!" I yelped. As I was leaving I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My long brown curly hair was dangling just reaching my chest. My white blouse was not white any more it had been patched up so many times it looked more like a worn out quilt. I leaned in closer and saw my light sky blue eyes staring back at me. My bright orange freckles stood out as a big black dot on a new crisp piece of white paper. Stepping back my scratched black buckle shoes made a loud clip, clop, clip, clop now I could see all of myself. I still had the same chicken legs and scar from when that mean boy, James Ark, scared me and ended up falling off the big apple tree and breaking my leg. While slouching down the stairs, a dim light was leaking in from the kitchen door. I gently pushed open the door Mother was wearing a white checkered dress. "Mother I love that dress, I haven't seen you in that dress since Father lost his job." I said.

With a soft loving voice in which mother's speak in Mother replied, "Why thank you! All of my other dresses have all these holes that every time I patch them up another appears. But now we should be getting to work, get on your apron." My apron brushing on my skirt made the stiff material scratch her legs.

"Mother, why must I wear these flour bags for clothing?" I, having just about enough with the uncomfortable skirts and shirts whined.

"I know that it's not luxury clothing but there is a depression going on out there so we will have to make the best of it," Mrs. Frank said while cutting the last of our last summer's canned strawberries. My mind started to drift back to 1930 when it all began. …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a cold November day the wind howled outside the movie house.

"As the depression deepens, more and more men lose their jobs," boomed the voice on the newsreel.

"Look at them! All those people who are too lazy to keep a job! My dad works hard, do see him unemployed? No! All those bums they don't deserve pity," I thought while watching the flickering black and white screen show a long line of men at a soup kitchen. Finally, it ended! That was not a good movie. It had all these pictures of people riding the rails. Walking outside the wind lifted my light brown curls and dropped them in front of my eyes. When I walked in, mother was wearing her green and white checkered dress under her flour covered blue and red apron. It smelled like meatloaf.

"Hello dear, how was the movie?" Mother asked not looking up from her work.

"Fine I guess," I replied while pulling up a chair. The chair screeched along the wax floor.

"Don't do that you will scratched the floor." Just at that very second, I heard the Par pull in. I loved the Par’s sleek black paint, and the way it shined in the sunlight. The reason I call it the Par is that when we got it, I did not know how to say car and the only thing that came out was Par. I leaped out of my seat and ran to the door.

"Father what took you so long?" I cried while running to the Par. Father crawled out as slow as a snail, there was not any sign of emotion, and he just grabbed his hat so tight that his fingers turned bright red. "Father, Father, Father!" I echoed. All he did was rumple my hair and kept on walking. Mother was in the kitchen; acting like nothing had happened was still rolling the dough. I trailed father like a lost little puppy.

"Go upstairs!" Said a voice so cold I could hardly know was my father’s.

"But –" I asked hoping to learn what was the problem.

"I said go upstairs!" he yelled, turning around and his eye once dreamy green was filled with a fiery glow. Quickly I scampered up to my room.

 

 

 

 

"Why is father acting like that?" I kept on repeating over and over while pacing. I heard a loud gasp and the rolling pin hit the floor. An hour later they finally called her back down.

"Honey take a seat," mother pointed, my parents were already sitting down.

"Honey we have some bad news that will change a lot of things we do around here. We, might even have to move out of Chicago." Gently mother rubbed my hand while talking. Father chimed in,

"The factory has had their business down for awhile, and it was no surprise that they started to lay off workers, and the first round of shots hit me, so I guess what I'm saying is, that I lost my job.’’ The News hit hard, it felt like someone hit me with the car and then shook me and never let go. I did not know what to say. Now I’m the daughter of those lazy bums I see in the newsreel. This is going to change my life. I never will be popular again. People will think I am poor and will shun me away! All I could do was slowly creep back up the stairs to my room and cry. Big huge sobs rang out, and did not stop until I fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I heard my door creek open. I kept my back to the person. She barged into my room.

"Honey are you awake?" she said inching closer to my bed. I still did not budge. "I know you’re upset. Everyone is, " mother said while sitting on my bed.

"Why? This is not fair! Dad works hard and he gets fired!" is what I squeaked out of my mouth.

"Dear you have to see that many good men are losing their jobs. There will be many changes but it does not change who you are." Mother gingerly picked up Rosey my favorite doll. Rosey had long curly red hair with a white lace dress and cute little Mary Jane shoes. Then mother put her next to my pillow.

"Play with Rosy she always makes you feel better." Then just as quick she was gone.

"Yes it will change me. It will change my whole life." I whispered in Rosey's ear. Then my eyes got heavy. My body slowed down and I fell asleep again.

 

 

 

Thud, thud, thud! "Whaaah?!" I shot up as fast as a jack in the box. In a flash I was out to Jason’s old room. Jason was my older brother who is now 21. He just got married.

"But why is someone in Jason's room? It is the same way he had left it because no one has been in there?" When I reached the room, I found father in a wrinkled blue and white striped shirt with blue overalls, his hair uncombed. Where, had my father, with his black suit with red tie and slicked back hair, gone?

"Hello dear." Father bellowed. He was hammering a picture off the wall.

"But what are you doing?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Oh I'm making room ready for the boarders." father replied.

"Boarders!" I yelled. "Honey, honey hold on there is no reason to yell." Father said while hammering the pictures in to the wall.

"Oh there is a very big reason to yell! People who we don’t know will be eating, sleeping, and just plain living in our house!" I cried storming into Jason’s room. At that very moment the familiar smell of sweet spice of Jason was sucked out. Replaced with chalky, wet, choking smell of drying paint.

"When did this happen?" I asked wanting answers.

"Yesterday." Father replied like having strangers move into our house and live here was normal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

" Don’t worry the boarders won’t be moving in for a long time but we have to get ready and to shuffle around to our new rooms.’’ Father added while moving about through the roomy space. The nice wood floor was covered in a grayish white tarp that had splats and splats of light blue wall paint. And the purple drapes that hung from the windows were striped and were lying in a crumbled mess of a ball. When I was little I would wrap the long soft bottom of it around me and pretend I was a rich princess who wore deep purple velvet. Right now I wish I were rich now more than ever.

"Honey, I have a lot of work to do and not enough time to answer every question that comes out of your curious head of yours. So could you go ask your mother?" Father asked sounding a little annoyed with all of the pestering I was doing.

"Fine I guess." I answered while walking out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I walked into the kitchen Mother was not there. This puzzled me because this time in the morning Mother would be making yummy foods like her world famous French toast, or her mouth watering bacon and eggs. Then whoosh! Mother sped past the door. Mother looked frail and tired. Almost like she had been up all night. Mother’s blond hair was not in it’s usual pulled back bun but frazzled with pieces all over and Mother’s blue eyes were glazed over so it looked like she was day dreaming. Mother would always correct me on my posture saying,

" Your posture is the key to being a lady. When your back sags so does your manners." But today I could correct her! Mother’s back was slouching down like she could not stand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hello dear." Mother said while walking past. But she did not say it with the light and cherry voice but in a dry cracked one. Starting to get a little worried I asked,

"Mother are you feeling well?’’

" Oh just a little tired that’s all." Mother replied. A little tired? No way Mother was worn out so I did not even bother to bombard her with questions. Any way I knew the answer. We were going to move to the smaller bedrooms so we could charge more for the rooms. Those few weeks before the boarders moved in were not weeks but only day! The day Father put the ad in the paper people came by. Of course I don’t know who will be moving in because Mother would not let sort the mail. The day when the first boarders would move in I woke up with a heart as cold as ice. I did not smile at all knowing that strangers will be barging in on my house.

 

Knock knock! At that very second I looked up from my typewriter and stared at the door. I knew that at the moment the monsters walk in it would no longer be The Frank House, but The Frank’s Boarding House. To my surprise a girl walked in. She wore an old yellow rickrack dress. She was about a head shorter with long red hair that came down to her waist. She had on worn dirty leather shoes. And clung to a brown suitcase with unicorns, rainbows, clouds, and star decals on it. I knew that this girl must be a dreamer.

"Hello my name is Amanda!" She said it so much excitement and with a smile that took up her whole face. I could not help but to grin back. Some people might have said her smile was like a ray of sunlight but if you were to ask me her smile was the WHOLE sun! Amanda's parents looked just like her; they had the same manners as her too.

"Cathy show Amanda to your room so she can unpack." Mother asked. As I took her suitcase up the stairs I heard an odd pattern of walking. Amanda was not walking she was skipping up the stairs! I could tell my new roommate would be a handful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Months went by and it seemed like we got a new boarder a day! By the third month we had, Mr. And Mrs. Dane with their twelve year old Sam, Ms. Stacy, the Wells Amanda’s family, the Reeds with the three year old twins James and Will, and old lady Camp. Mother would scramble every day doing laundry, make food, and keeping the house neat. She would never rest and yet always looked calm and organized. Father went through the daily motion of looking at the want ads and going on interviews coming back sad and angry. Amanda and I have grown to be close friend. Well we had to, living in such a tight space.

 

 

Almost every Saturday command it would disappear for an hour or so. But this time I got an itch to see where she goes. So I sneaked out behind her. I followed her for about three blocks when she entered through a back door. Trying not to be seen I didn't dare take another step. I watched through the window, Amanda seemed to put on a dirty green apron and lugged a huge silver pot to a table. Then boom! More than 100 men came bolting to where Amanda was. She filled the bowls the men showed in Amanda face. At that moment I knew it was a soup kitchen! I was puzzled why Amanda was helping people work too lazy get a job. Just then Amanda looked back and saw me. I jumped down but she knew I was there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She opened the door and said,

"Well don't just stand there make yourself useful." I had no choice but to give in. I grabbed an apron and ladled hot bowls of tomato soup.

"Why are you helping these homeless people. You know they're just lazy." I stated.

"No, they are their people we should take pity on." Amanda replied.

"If we take pity on them they will think it's OK they don't have to have jobs." I argued with Amanda.

"Don't you have a heart?" She questioned to me. I could not stand it any longer ripping off my apron I stomped out all the way home. Amanda came home and hour later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I did not come down for breakfast nor did Amanda. The two were having an argument about last night.

" All those people are bums and all are to lazy to work!" I yelled at Amanda. Amanda trying to counter said,

"No they were people who were down on their luck. You should feel sorry they are worse off then you. They don't even have a house." I feeling hurt cried,

"Well how would you like it if you are had to share your house with total strangers?" Amanda feeling like her heart had been broken said,

"Look your father does not have a job." Then quietly walked out. My jaw wide open started to think. Amanda was almost defending me while I was just hurting my case. I was not even cutting myself some slack. I was a cold-hearted villain. At that moment Cathy noticed her errors and saw that even though Amanda did not have a lot but her heart was pure gold.

"Cathy, Cathy are you awake." She was back in the kitchen fixing breakfast.

"Mother I’ll go with Amanda to help in the soup kitchen." I said. "Why the sudden change of heart?" Asked mother acting surprised. "I want to have my heart gold" Cathy replied.

© 2008 Kay


Author's Note

Kay
remeber please don't correcrt my spelling!!!! I know I suck maybe I sould buy yet another dictonary. I guess that would be my 90th.
also remeber this is a really old and needs alot of work!

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Reviews

This is very beautiful. And I think the beginning of an amazing story. I love that Cathy wants to have a heart of gold, but I'd love to know how she achieves it.

Posted 16 Years Ago


I love this story! Well done! Everything is very clear. It's so hard for me to read something if I don't know what's going on but you do a great job at letting me know what the characters are thinking.

Posted 16 Years Ago


First I would like to commend you on a meaningful and interesting story. I loved the news reel angle to demonstrate the girls disdain for the poor. I also like the moral of this story. However, your grammar was fine at the beginning and deteriorated toward the end. I know you asked not to correct spelling, but a story this good, deserves proper grammar. Also, there are big gaps between the paragraphs. You should take these out. It makes reading easier. Great piece overall. Thank you for sharing.

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on March 30, 2008

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Kay
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