Hello everyone! Today marks my first guest post, written by my amazing friend, Jaedyn, from J Long Books. I absolutely loved the story she wrote for my blog, and I wrote one for hers! If you are interested in reading more of her work, check her out on Wattpad! We chose the word prompt "transport" for our stories, and I know you will love them. Here is Jaedyn's story, "Trails."
“Trails”
By Jaedyn Long
“How much farther, Mama?”
“A little farther, Pip.”
“You said that last time!”
I didn’t think she really had a right to be asking that question, much less for the 35th time. And yes, I’d been counting.
“I know, Pip.”
“How much farther is a little, Mama?”
“Just count the trees we pass, and you’ll know.”
Cecile huffed indignantly and slumped against Mama’s back. Mama had been piggy-backing her for the past hour, and I didn’t know how she did it. If it was anyone who should be asking “How much farther”, it was Mama. I didn’t much like walking, but at least I didn’t have to carry my fidgety little sister.
I had to walk too, but I had a wagon to pull all of our belongings with us. Currently we were trekking uphill, and instead of reprimanding Cecile, I saved my oxygen for my aching muscles.
“One. Two. Three.”
“You can’t count the trees we haven’t passed,” I grit my teeth. “That’s cheating.”
Cecile blew a raspberry at me.
I heaved the wagon to the hill’s plateau, and on the last yank, I toppled to the ground. Cecile laughed, but I didn’t bother getting up. Sighing deeply, I layed there, on my back, on the grass, ignoring the buzz of unidentifiable creatures in my hair. Ignoring the itch grass on my skin. Ignoring the questions of my mother. Ignoring the water that Cecile was pouring on my forehead.
I stopped moving and closed my eyes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We’d been traveling for eight days. First by wagon, then train, then boat, and the rest by foot. It felt like we’d used every mode if transport available (including piggy backing, at least in Cecile’s case.
It was just the three of us. I remember writing it down in my first journal entry of the trip. My name at the top: Winnifred, even though most people call me Winnie. Then Mama, and then Cecile. All in my best cursive. And then the year: 1827. Spring. From the sweltering but history-filled Virgina to the unpredictable weather and sparse settlements of northern Indiana. I wasn’t too keen on the move, and Mama wasn’t too keen on explaining her reasoning, even though I’m nearly a grown up. “Ladies must listen and learn,” she always said. I didn’t like to listen.
And even more than listening, I hated walking. At least, not this kind of walking. We’d been ferried across the Ohio, but upon trying to cross the Muskingum, we’d been completely drenched. Mama insisted that walking would help us dry off (not like we had a choice) but the water had barely left before we approached the Muskingum again. What was this river???
And so we continued that way, wading through creek after creek, river after river, Cecile on Mama’s shoulders and our meager belongings tied into a scarf in my hair, before we finally reached Fort Wayne, where Mama gave in and decided to replace most of what we’d lost. That’s where we got the wagon (and boy was I happy about that).
And after that there were no more rivers. Just the occasional log house and cornfield.
Maybe Indiana wouldn’t be so bad, I thought. Maybe...maybe all this travel would be worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mama was dabbing a cold cloth on my forehead when I woke. I turned my head toward her. I swallowed hard.
“Mama!” I cried. Nothing came out.
“Oh Winnie…here, drink this.”
She handed me another cold cloth and I sucked on it like a babe.
I heard sniffling.
I hoisted myself up, trying to ignore my dizziness, and rolled over onto my stomach. A few feet in front of me, Cecile sat with her legs dangling off the hill’s cliff. I saw teardrops on her skirt. “Hey, Pip,” I whispered.
Her head whipped around. “Winnie?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re alive!”
I snorted. “Of course I am--”
Mama gave me a warning look.
“I mean, yeah. I’m alive. I just fainted, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“I was really tired, I guess.”
She thought about that. “I’m tired too.”
I wanted to say something sarcastic, but it occurred to me that there was a reason she’d wanted to piggy back. She was only seven, after all. “Sorry about that.”
She nodded quietly. Then, looking up, “Do you want me to pull the wagon?”
I almost said yes, but Mama put a hand on my shoulder. “Actually, girls… we’re here.”
“We… what?”
Mama helped me up, and I leaned into her. She swept her arm across the horizon below us, and I gasped.
Below us, lush fields of flowers and tall grass stretched out. Just past a grove of trees, the grass turned into sand, and sand into a vast body of water.
“Is that the Paffic Ocean?” Cecile gaped.
“Pacific,” I corrected.
“Oh.”
“No,” Mom chuckled. “That’s Lake Michigan.”
Cecile and I barely glanced at each other before taking off down the hill and sprinting to the water. Any fatigue I’d felt had been taken by the wind that battered our faces. Reaching the sand, we chucked off our shoes, hiked up our skirts, and waded into the water.
We’d finally made it home.
About the Author
Jaedyn Long is a teenage homeschooler whose dream is to be a bestselling author and a Broadway actress. When she’s not writing or belting out show-tunes, she can be found cheerleading, reading, or hanging out with her siblings. You can find her nerdy rants over at J Long Books.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Don't forget to comment so Jaedyn knows what you think of her story!! If you’d like to read my take on the theme, you can find it here. Don't forget to stop by her blog to see more of her work!
~Ash
