Musing #2 - Story

Hello, and welcome to my second musing. If there's one thing I like to write, it's stories. Not that I need to tell you that. You'll no doubt be fully aware of this after I've posted half a dozen "musings." ;-).

Yarn Across the Hall

 "Mama, I've nearly finished my scarf," nine-year-old Libby Harris exclaimed, holding up her teal-yarn creation.

 Mama looked up from her book and smiled. "So you have. Let me see that."

 With a pleased grin, Libby handed the scarf over. "It's near as good as yours, Mama. I've been working hard."

 "I'll say." Mama took the scarf onto her lap and looked it over closely, the twinkle never leaving her soft brown eyes. "I'm certainly proud of you, Libby. You've put a lot of thought and effort towards this."

 "She's teaching me to crochet, too," eight-year-old Anne proclaimed. "I already have a nice warm scarf, so I'm making a blanket for my dolly."

 "That's good," Mama commended. "I like seeing you two work together. May I see your blanket, Anne?"

 "Later," Anne answered, eyes aglow. "I want you to see it after Libby helps me put on a line of teal. I'm making a pattern of purple, teal, purple, teal."

 "Yes, and I plan to put a line of purple on mine," Libby added. "Then I'll crochet on a little more teal and I'll be finished."

 "Hmm." Mama gave the scarf back to her daughter and wrinkled her brow. "Don't you have the purple, Anne? And don't you have the teal, Libby?"

 "Yes, Mama."

 "Then how can you switch? Don't the balls of yarn need to be attached to your creations as you work?"

 "We'll figure it out somehow," Libby assured her mother.

***

 It was midday. The children - there were four in total, omitting the three-month-old baby, Beth - were each in their own rooms. For one hour each day they were instructed to be quiet and do silent activities while Mama and the baby napped.

 Eleven-year-old Caroline sat at her desk, scribbling the last answer to an arithmetic problem into her textbook. Let's see, she thought. If four times four is sixteen, then I place the six here and carry the one...Ah-ha! Done.

 She set her pencil down and shut her math book. Reaching over, she turned her small bedside clock. 1:32. We have about twenty-thirty minutes left before Mama's naptime is over. She grinned. Time enough to work on another story.

 Caroline flicked a strand of golden-brown hair from her shoulder and glanced at the caddy in which she kept all her writing utensils. Odd. Her brow furrowed. I don't see my favorite pen.

 Then she remembered - the day before, she'd lent the pen to Libby. 

 She probably still has it in her room with her. Caroline ripped a sheet of paper from her notebook and grabbed her pencil.

  Please slide my pen out from under your door,she wrote quickly. 

 Standing from her desk chair, Caroline curled her fingers around the handle to the door of her room and turned the knob. With a quiet creak, the door swung open.

 Caroline tiptoed into the hallway...and stopped short.

 From under Libby's door came a line of teal yarn. It stretched from one end of the hallway to the other.

 That wasn't all.

 The yarn reached Anne's door...and under. Meanwhile, from under Anne's door, purple yarn peeped out. No, peep isn't the word. Not when the yarn spilled from her door, travelled down the long hallway, and slipped under the door to Libby's room.

 What on earth? Caroline scratched her head. What are these sisters of mine up to now?

 Changing her mind about her pen, Caroline turned around and went right back to her room. For sure I'll ask Libby and Anne about this as soon as Mama's naptime is over.

***

  "Girls, can I ask you a question?"

 Libby looked up from her cookies, a milk mustache spread on the skin just above her upper lip. It gave her a young, innocent look, and Caroline couldn't help but laugh. Libby swiped her mouth with a napkin and asked, "What question?"

 "Why was there yarn spread across three countries during Mama's naptime today?"

 If Caroline had expected a bewildered, ashamed reaction from her little sister, she'd surely have been surprised. But Caroline knew her sister better than that. 

 Good thing, as Libby acted far from ashamed or bewildered.

 She only shrugged and dunked another cookie in her glass of milk, acting absolutely nonchalant, as if having yarn stretch from one door to another was a thing she did every day. 

 Caroline folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. "I asked you a question, Elizabeth."

 "Oh, I can answer the question," Anne said eagerly. "It was a grand plan of Libby's. Perfectly grand. Then we could both crochet without bothering anybody."

 "Yes, well, right now you're bothering me by not giving me a clear answer to my question," Caroline retorted. 

 "Girls, what on earth are you all talking about?"

 Caroline, Libby, and Anne all looked up as Mama entered the kitchen, Beth in her arms and six-year-old Timothy hanging onto her skirt. 

 Caroline explained what she'd seen during their mother's naptime, and Mama turned to her younger daughters, an inquisitive look on her face. "Well?"

 "It's as you said, Mama," Anne said.

 "What?" Mama's eyebrows came together. "What'd I say?"

 "This morning, you asked how we'd crochet using the same balls of yarn," Libby spoke up at last. "We figured it out right before your naptime. I could keep one ball of yarn, and Anne could have the other. But, as you'd pointed out, each of our creations were attached to both balls. So," - Libby paused to swallow her bite of cookie - "I came up with a solution. Anne could have the teal yarn, but the strand of it that was attached to my scarf was not to be cut, and it could go from her door to mine. We did the same thing with the purple yarn."

 Caroline and Mama laughed.

 "I'm imagining this," Mama said between hearty chuckles. "Yarn stretched across - "

 She bowed her head and couldn't speak anymore, as the laughter was shaking her entire body. 

 Caroline held her middle and doubled over with laughter.

 "What's so funny?" Libby demanded.

 "Nothing, nothing," Caroline gasped out, then continued giggling.

 Libby and Anne exchanged surprised looks.

 "Is that why you were sitting in front of your door when I came up to tell you Mama was awake?" Timothy asked Anne, who nodded.

 Caroline laughed harder, thinking of the door colliding with her sister sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

 Mama took a big breath and straightened. She wiped her eyes. "That was a pretty risky choice of yours, girls."

 "What do you mean, Mama?" Libby inquired. 

 "What if, for instance, Anne had tugged too hard on Libby's ball of yarn? Then Libby's scarf would unravel, and - " Mama started laughing all over again.

 Caroline could easily imagine what would happen next in Mama's story. Libby and Anne would each start tugging, then they'd storm to each other's rooms to see what was going on, and, to just nosedive everything into the worst situation possible, they'd start fighting.

 And wake up Mama with all their noise, Caroline thought. She grinned at her sisters, glad all that hadn't happened.

 Libby carelessly demolished her last cookie and turned to Mama. "But we got along, Mama, and this morning you said you liked to see us work together."

 "That's what you did, alright," Mama agreed.

"Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!" PSALM 133: 1
and
"A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." PROVERBS 17:22

~Ellen