Hi Friends,
My post this week is a short story that I found while delving into some old writing files, in an attempt to find some much needed inspiration. I could really use some feedback from my friends and fellow writers. Would you mind sharing your thoughts and some gentle criticism with me?
My story is called..........
Hidden Beauty
Jocelyn had always
been told how much she resembled her great, great grandmother. She also shared her
birthday. Jocelyn loved listening to the
stories Grandmother told of Adelaide
and her life in the Victorian Age.
Jocelyn, though proud
to have the physical characteristics and strength of character that Adelaide possessed,
wondered how much alike they really were. The family albums only revealed
grainy, discolored and torn photos. And the stories sounded a bit far-fetched,
at times. Jocelyn wanted proof and after her college graduation, she would set
out to find it.
Adelaide’s
homeland, sat on the Celtic
Sea, which may be why
Jocelyn found herself dreaming of the seafaring lifestyle. She would visit Portsmouth, England
to examine her roots. Her first stop, after she settled in at the cozy bed and
breakfast she had reserved for her stay, would be the library. There she will
find the family name and hopefully the comings and goings of Adelaide.
She paged through
newspapers of that era. Jocelyn’s plan was to read anything with the name Carleton
in it. Unfortunately, she didn’t find much for her efforts. She left the
library to head out for dinner, with the thought of being more productive the
next day.
The streets
welcomed her with light that came from the little shop windows. They were
quaint and colorful, just as she imagined Adelaide
to have been. Grandma always made Adelaide
seem larger than life. If that were so, then she certainly didn’t take after
her. Jocelyn was more reserved, not outgoing as Adelaide. But, Jocelyn had a different
feeling about her. She pictured her more subdued, maybe even, a little sad
about her life. She began to wonder if the information Grandma had given her
was true; or stories that her own imagination had made up.
Jocelyn spent another
day at the library to search further for any inkling of how Adelaide lived her life. One would think
there would be newspaper clippings and articles aplenty, but nothing. Jocelyn
heard a whisper of a voice say, “Carlton?
You’re searching for Carleton? Would that be Adelaide Carleton?”
“Yes! Why yes,
did you know of her?” Jocelyn looked up and saw a very handsome man. She
gasped, realizing he was very close to her own age and wondered, what could he possible know of Adelaide? The
gentleman apologized for interfering, but seemed to have some very worthy news
about her great, great grandmother.
“Yes, I knew of
her. Come with me. I have something to show you.”
Jocelyn certainly
wasn’t going to fall for that one, until the librarian had stepped up to him
and said hello. She called him Mr. Langford, a name that was very familiar to
Jocelyn. She had listened to her Grandma repeat it several times in her stories
of
Adelaide.
She walked with
him to an old, but lovely home set on the bank of the Celtic. Was this were she lived? Jocelyn
wondered. He opened the front gate and took her hand, leading her down a path
that took them to the back yard of the old house. Her attention turned to a man
in a wheel chair, whom he introduced as his grandfather.
“It’s very nice
to meet you, sir.” He took one look at her and though he looked surprised…. he
really wasn’t. As if, he knew this day would come. You see, Jocelyn really was
the spitting image of Adelaide
and the old man knew instantly who she was. He stared at the portrait in his grandfather’s study for many years
while growing up. He took Jocelyn’s hand and asked the young man to wheel him
into the house. In a room, off the hallway, there she was…...
Jocelyn entered
the room and with her mouth agape, she could barely believe her eyes. It was a
self-portrait, or so it seemed, only in a different time and a different place.
Jocelyn noted the sadness in her eyes and knew that for the first time, she
would hear the true story of her great, great grandmother…….the story of an
unrequited love with a seafarer……..the story that Jocelyn daydreamed so
frequently.
Glancing at the
young man, Jocelyn knew there would also be a story of her own to tell when she
returned to the States.
Thank you for your time and honesty,
The Ethereal Chick
