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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1260668-Family-of-Stone
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1260668
A young girl's desperate attempt to feel loved.
Carmen couldn’t wait to get to the top of the hill, her favorite place in the world, away from screaming, hungry children, dirty dishes and forever-filthy floors.  Left alone, Carmen cared for six younger children and a household while a mother named Eunice went to work.

Eunice spent every day in town whether she worked or not while her father, the town drunk, lived on the next hill with his new wife and children. Although he never stopped by, sent a note, or called, Carmen loved him.

She bathed the last of the younger children, ironed the clothes, washed, and put away the dishes before scrubbing the floors. Finally, she was ready. Her day concluded, the house tidy, and the children fed, two hours remained before Eunice was due home. She untied her tiny apron; the one covered in tiny hearts, and hung it carefully behind the kitchen door before slipping on her saddle oxfords. Eunice would be furious if she were to find her wearing them.

She scampered up the hill, jumping from side to side, and picking up smooth rocks along the way. Her destination remained clear...her home, the one she made for her own little family at the very top, because being twelve was too much trouble in the one below. She wanted to be on the mountain, the very top, where the wind whistled your name and the leaves waved, welcoming you home.

Animals gathered along the summit as if waiting for Carmen to come and play. Play was a filthy word to Eunice. It caused her lips to draw at the corners, puckering as though she had just eaten green persimmons.
“No self-respecting child has time for play, and if she does, she doesn’t have enough to do,” Eunice expressed, spitting in Carmen’s face as she plead her cause. “Play is a waste of time and energy. It’s time that could be used for more important things,”

Carmen knew how her mother felt about work. It was the reason she had no dolls, no tea sets, and no friends. Carmen was to work, tend to smaller children, and prepare all meals. Nevertheless, Carmen was blessed with a magnificent imagination, one that freed her from her present circumstances. Carmen dreamed of loving arms that longed to reach out and lovingly wrap around her. She knew Eunice would never offer such comfort. She wanted something that belonged to her, just one thing, something small, even tiny, as long as it was hers. Something Eunice would never know about...a secret.

Her dark hair, like a lively kite, floated on a breeze as blue eyes sprang to life. Her legs, spindly but strong, climbed the hill as her heart pounded and her palms grew wet. She was going home, her home, the one she created for herself. The one most children already possessed.

The wind surfed and puffed under her blue gingham dress. Giggling, she pushed her dress down and kept running. She could feel it! She was almost there! The place that belonged to her and her to the place. She longed for her dolls, the ones that loved and needed her to love them back. There was no screaming here. No obscene words that echoed inside her head as they sprang from the tight lips of the demanding woman called Eunice.  She was home. The furniture meticulously placed, beds tidy, without wrinkle, and the table set proper but playful. They were precisely where she had left them, listening to the radio and waiting anxiously for her return. They smiled when they saw her and she laughed out loud.

Carmen picked up Suzy cuddling her lovingly, noticing her lovely blonde curls and her bright blue eyes. Laying Suzy down, she picked up Emily. She needed a hug, too. Ellen, John, and Michael smiled and ran to her for hugs and kisses; they could hardly wait for story time. She felt the love they offered her. They had missed her and wanted her to come to them yesterday, but she hadn’t finished her chores in time. She had missed them, too. They were special, handpicked from thousands.

It had taken her a long time to find the ones she needed to make her family. Just any rock wouldn’t do. It had to be a special rock...a loving rock. She couldn’t just pick and choose at random. She held each one, cuddled and hugged, feeling for a family locked deep inside each one. If she couldn’t feel it, she might still use it as furniture or something else. Everyone received plenty of love and everyone gave plenty in return. Carmen was elated to be home, no sour look for her, only love, smiles, kisses, and dreams of a better tomorrow. It waited for her. It’s where her family lived, her dolls, her children, the ones who loved her. This was her heaven. She would go again the next day, if Eunice were gone long enough.

Tomorrow bloomed into glorious dreams of being with her family, but it wasn’t to be. Eunice was angry.  Carmen had done precious little to appease the woman with the tight lips. The floors needed rescrubbing, the dinner needed re-cooking and the children all needed re-bathing. Carmen sobbed, brokenhearted, longing for her family on the hill. Her tiny hands bore blisters and cuts from the redoing of work. Her eyes cried for the family she needed to comfort, the ones who loved her and would never spit at her for washing their hair or cleaning their ears.

The next day, Eunice climbed the hill. “Blackberries would make for a fine pie,” she had squeaked out between her tight lips before leaving with a berry bucket. “Carmen, you must learn how to make pies. Church socials always require such things.”

At the top of the hill, Eunice found them...her dolls! She spent hours taking them apart and tossing them into a pile. “How in heavens name could she possibly plant potatoes with so many rocks around? Where had they all come from? She was betting it was Carmen’s doings. She would have to whip her for such incompetence. How stupid, to line up rocks when there was so much work to be done.”

Carmen was inconsolable. Her family was gone, her hugs and kisses destroyed, and her imagination in jeopardy. Eunice laughed, parting her tight lips into a sneer as Carmen tried to explain the importance of the stones.

“Stones, will not feed you my child, and stories will not save you. Work is what we do and we should be glad we are able to do it!

“No more rock piles, Carmen. None, do you hear me? Now get to your chores and take care of your brothers and sisters. I’m going to take a nap.”

During the light of a full moon, Carmen, slipped from her bedroom window, ran to the top of the hill, gathered her stones, and hid them in the basement. She covered them with an old quilt in an attempt to keep them warm. She read a bedtime story before sneaking back upstairs and into bed. “Eunice never comes down here! She always makes me. Now, I will have you all closer than before.”

That afternoon, Herman, the youngest boy, ventured downstairs in search of Eunice. Instead, he found a pile of rocks laid oddly about the basement floor, later reported it to Eunice. He smirked at Carmen before running wildly about the house daring her to catch him.

Eunice went down stairs, gathered the rocks into a laundry basket, and took them upstairs. “Carmen!” she yelled. “Come in here!”

Carmen obeyed, even though she knew the tone of Eunice’s voice always meant a beating was immanent. “Yes, Eunice?”

“Are these yours, Carmen?” Carmen was quite aware that Eunice knew to whom the stones belonged. There was to be no lying. “Yes, Eunice.”

“The same ones I tore apart and tossed away on the hill?”

“Yes, Eunice.”

Blind with rage, Eunice began throwing them, hitting Carmen repeatedly. The sound of children screaming could be heard up and down the holler. Carmen lay on the floor of her tiny home covered in blood, and refusing to breathe.

Folks say Eunice lost her mind. Other’s say, Carmen drove her to it. “What a bad girl!”

Her sister Grace was now mother to her siblings. Grandma came to stay because Eunice was never coming home. Every Sunday, during their childhood, Grace would take her brothers by the hand and lead them to the top of the hill where Carmen first started her family. She looked around at the splendor and tried to see what Carmen had seen in the beauty above the holler. It was so different from that which lay below.

Atop the hill where the land lay flat and an oak tree gave shade all day, Grace placed a smooth stone atop a small grave. One by one, the children took each other’s hand, as love replaced anger and hug’s soothed away years of hurt and indifference.
© Copyright 2007 PurplePassion (2write2live at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1260668-Family-of-Stone