Beauty

 By Abby B., age 14

#5 Two Lost Girls

January, 1879

 

I blew out a shaky breath as I wrapped my hand around a small, shaky one. In my other I held a lead rope. Connected to that rope was a horse, a Gypsy Cob.

I knew, even with my twelve years, that it was very special for me to have such a majestic horse.

Her name is Beauty.

I smiled in remembrance. Just like the horse in that story we were read every night, before bedtime.

“Are we almost there?” Ethel’s pixie face looked up at me, her braids once neat and carefully plaited now askew and hanging limply on her shoulders.

“Soon,” I responded, once again trying to avoid the question as best I could. This was what seemed like the thousandth time she’d asked that question today.

“I want to go home,” Ethel whined, dragging her feet. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” I replied, “but we have to keep going. Just a little longer, Ethel. I promise.”

Of course, I didn’t really know if it would be ‘just a little longer.’ But that was beside the point.

Please, I silently begged, if anyone is out there, please help us find somewhere to rest. That's all I ask.

 

###

It wasn’t as if I didn’t have someone I could write to, someone that could come, in a way, save us. In fact, I did. Aunt Alexandra was a substantially wealthy woman currently residing in Boston and likely waiting for a letter or telegram to announce the coming of two small girls.

What would throw her off guard was that the letter would come from me.

Two years ago, Father had died, leaving his three children to fend for themselves in the busy streets of New York. He’d been the hopeful sort of fellow, one who wanted to bring everyone joy, but also preferred to make a living for himself than to have someone take charity on him.

It was the latter quality that led to his death. He refused to see any doctor, focusing more on putting food on the table than his own health.

After he passed, it was left to our older brother to care for us. At the time, Philip was sixteen, barely out of school and not ready to provide for two young girls. He tried hard, but to no avail.

The only last solution was to send me and Ethel somewhere. Aunt Alexandra was obviously the first choice, but Philip was too kind to send us there. He knew I, with my often rebellious choices, would likely run right back to him. She was a very proud woman, with her way often being the only option you had. I could never put myself into that situation.

So instead, my brother received a favor from a neighbor. A man who offered to help pay to send us to a home for young girls, far, far away, in San Francisco, where the wealthy people live.

No one could easily get me to stay at a fancy school without my family. Just a few weeks after arriving, I packed up Ethel and started off for a place of our own. With the little money Philip had carefully tucked into my palm before we left I paid for as far as a ride would take us.

Which wasn’t very far, but it got us to a point where we could find our way. It was out of the question to walk, especially for Ethel, so I had to resort to much worse tactics.

I am ashamed to admit that I may have… borrowed a horse from a stable. Beauty was so lonely and I needed to give her a friend. Besides, that man who owned the place wouldn’t miss her too badly. She clearly wasn’t a huge prize of the owner, who I had in fact found asleep in a haystack.

Beauty and I became quick friends, and she, Ethel, and I set off on our journey to hopefully find some place of lodging.

Which leads us to the present. Where I was currently struggling.

But little did I know someone would answer my plea. Along with a little added surprise.

 

###

 

“Look at it, Louise!” Ethel cried, running forward. “It’s so lovely!”

We’d finally come upon a clearing, somewhere we could rest and hide until we were ready to move again. The wave of relief that flooded through me when we came upon it was unlike any other I had felt before. I felt… peaceful.

This is a safe place.

My decision was final as I sensed Beauty stopping behind me. It was pretty, too. There was a nice little creek breaking through the grass, running with clear water that danced in the sparkling sunlight. A small tree hung beside the creek, its bending bows casting shade over a small area.

For a few days, maybe, we could stay here before I gathered up the courage to write to Aunt Alexandra. Before our lives would undoubtedly be turned upside down.

Before I’d have to face the harsh reality that we truly needed help.

But I could do that later, I decided, and hurried to take off our small pack from Beauty.

Ethel squealed and rolled in the soft grass, her laughter bubbling like the water. “Can we keep it, Louise?”

I smiled at her, loving the little child talk she had adopted since she could speak. “For now,” I said.

I trailed away for a moment, stopping to notice the little wildflowers blooming everywhere. Hues of purple, blue, red, and white blended together in a beautiful arrangement, like the ribbons Mama used to braid in our hair. I bent down to pick one, caressing its gentle stem and touching its soft petals. I breathed in the fresh scent of the air, a small smile forming on my face.

“Who are you?”

My heart leapt into my throat as I whirled around, holding the flower as almost a weapon. A little girl was staring back at me, curiosity clear in her bright blue eyes. She had dark hair, styled in two neat braids. I glanced over her shoulder and found a palomino grazing not too far away.

“Who are you?” I replied softly, feeling suspicious. Had she seen Ethel? Beauty?

“I’m Andi,” the girl smiled brightly. “Andi Carter. I live here. My horse over there is Taffy. Why are you here?”

Oh dear.

Of course she had to live here. I couldn’t win today.

“My name is Louise,” I replied, feeling very old in the presence of the small girl, even though she couldn’t be but a year younger than me. “I’m here with my sister, Ethel. And our horse, Beauty.”

Not really my horse, I silently added.

Andi craned her neck to look around me, and I swiftly blocked her view from my grazing Beauty and a now sleeping Ethel on the soft grass. She slumped her shoulders.

“Why are you here?” she asked again. “This is my special spot. Mine.”

“I apologize,” I raised my eyebrows. “I have no intention of disrupting your… special spot. We’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry.”

“Hm,” Andi folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe I should tell my mother about-”

“No!” I cried, panicking. “Please, don’t tell anyone we’re here. I just need a few days to rest for a bit. Then we’ll be gone.”

Andi stopped, looking confused. “But don’t you need help?”

A small idea hung at the back of my head. Help…

“Actually,” I turned towards the girl. “You could help us with something, if you want.”

Andi gasped. “Really?”

“Now, you must promise first not to tell anyone,” I said.

“I promise, I promise!” Andi said, looking very excited.

“Alright,” I knelt down to get to her eye level. “You could run home and bring us back some food. It would help a lot, Andi, it really would. But you can’t say anything, remember?”

“I can do that!” Andi grinned. “I’ll be right back in no time. And I won’t say a word.”

“Good,” I stood. “We’ll be here.”

 

###

“Got it!” Andi came around with her arms carrying a very full satchel. She set it on the grass. “Here you go.”

“Thank you!” I said, delighted as I started to root through its contents.

“Is that your sister?” Andi asked, peering over my shoulder.

“Yes,” I said. “Ethel.”

“Can - I mean, may - I play with her?”

“If you want,” I shrugged. I had no objections to that.

A few moments later there were two girls running around the area, laughing and calling out to each other in a game of chase. Ethel shrieked with delight every time Andi got close to her and continued even faster.

Eventually, Andi came to a stop, and looked at the sky.

“I should go home,” she said. “My mother is probably waiting for me.”

“Goodbye, Andi!” Ethel announced, waving her hand furiously. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Ethel,” Andi smiled at her, a bright one that matched her cheery features. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe. Goodbye, Louise.”

“Goodbye, Andi,” I looked fondly at her. “Thank you again.”

 

###

 

That night, I lay on the grass, my eyes fixated on the rolling stars. My thoughts churned like butter, unable to stay still or silent for just a moment of peace. I didn’t want to face what I knew I would have to.

We can’t stay here forever.

I knew that. Accepting it, however, was a different story.

Aunt Alexandra will take us in if I write. We all know that. And right now, I do need her help. I can’t raise Ethel like this.

We would have to leave, and as soon as possible. Everyone knows a little girl’s mouth doesn’t stay quiet for too long. Before long, someone besides Andi would come.

Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow we will leave.

 

###

 

Andi came again, just later in the day.

Ethel giggled with delight and ran to give her a hug. I brushed my dress up and stood, ready to tell Andi the hard news.

She noticed my solemn face and that small joy behind her eyes flickered for the slightest moment.

“Is everything alright?” she asked softly, and I hesitated to tell her exactly what I had to.

“Andi,” I reached out and took her hands. “We need to leave.”

“What?” Andi seemed confused, and I shook my head before she asked any more questions.

“I’m sorry I can’t explain anymore, but you just need to know that you have been more than a friend to us,” I tried to get my point across. “We will be fine, and I thank you for what you’ve done. Now, it is time for me to do what I must.” 

“But I could help!” Andi insisted. “My mother would take you both in!”

“No, Andi,” I stepped forward and placed my hands on the little girl’s shoulder, feeling much like the mature lady I was. “Ethel and I need to go. We may not see you again, my friend, but I promise I will never forget you and your kindness. This is our one chance. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Maybe,” Andi sighed, looking crestfallen. “Could you write?”

I smiled. “One day, Andi. Perhaps when I’m old and gray, or in just a few years. I will write, the moment I get a chance, I will write.”

“Fine,” Andi got up and brushed her overalls off. “I should leave then, shouldn’t I?”

“It would be best.”

Andi pulled Ethel in close to her. “I’ll miss you, Ethel!” She cried. “I wish I could show you my home, I really do.”

“‘S okay,” Ethel patted Andi’s shoulder. “Show me later.”

“Right,” Andi turned to me. “Goodbye, Louise. I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”

“Me too,” I took a hold of Beauty’s lead rope and started off towards the direction we’d arrived.

Don’t worry. I will write. You just wait and see.

When I looked back to tell her goodbye, I saw the little face, so much like Ethel’s, looking brave although there was a small tear trickling down her cheek. She waved a small hand at me in a final farewell.

Goodbye, Andi Carter.

 

###

 

Quite some time later…

 

“Andi!” Riley called, coming into the house. “I have a letter for you!”

I came out into the kitchen, my baby balanced on my hip. I swept a rebellious strand of hair out of my eyes carefully. “Who’s it from?”

“Some Louise Miller,” he responded, dropping it on the table.

My heart skipped a beat as my mind tried to catch up with what he just said.

Could it be…

It was almost impossible. I thrust Jared into Riley’s arms and grasped the letter tightly, peering at the letter. Carefully sliding it open, I withdrew the small piece of paper and unfolded it gently.

Dear Andi, though I suppose you go by Andrea now,

It has been a very long time…

I laughed, right out loud, proof of my shock. Signed at the bottom was the swirling handwriting I’d been mesmerized with as a child.

“Who is Louise?” Riley inquired. “Do you know her?”

“A long time ago,” I shook my head. “I’d almost forgotten.”

Riley smiled at me. “That sounds like a tale I’d want to hear. How does it begin, my princess?”
            “Well,” I said, cocking my head thoughtfully. “I suppose it began with a horse, as most of my stories do. And two very scared girls.”