The Awakening

The Awakening

Elizabeth Montgomery

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places are a product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any other means, electronic, digitally, photocopied, recording, or any other except for brief
quotations in printed reviews without the prior consent of the author. Copyright by Elizabeth Montgomery 2014 All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-1503061781

Edited by Eric Hoffman

Chapter 1

   May 1970

    By the time Adele Martin finished watching the last fifteen minutes of Little House on The Prairie she figured she had two choices. She could either go home right now, or stay at her best friend’s and wait for the school to call.
   She chose the latter, despite she knew that she belonged at home.
   Earlier that morning, her mother had warned her to go straight home, join her father in the workshop, and help with the cleanup. That really had been her intent. Obeying orders came naturally.
   The thing was, she never liked her life at home. Building furniture alongside her dad was hard work, and tedious, too. And milking all those cows was a total bore.
    When she’d heard the school bus had broken down, and inevitably, she knew she’d be late getting home, she figured she may as well make the most of things and spend a bit of harmless time in town with Tammy.
    Because being young only happens once, she thought Tammy’s invitation to her home was quite harmless. The two would spend a couple of hours in Orangeville, talking about boys and other whimsical things that girls like to talk about. It also gave her some time to watch TV. Little House on The Prairie was her favourite show and she rarely had time to watch it at home.
    Adele lay on Tammy’s bed, staring off into space, daydreaming about her love for airplanes. Her fascination with them could easily match Amelia Earhart’s. She’d spend hours reading about traveling to far off places.
   Aviation was about the only thing she, and her father had in common.
   Her father was a workaholic. He loved the outdoors, but he enjoyed building furniture the most.
   Adele was certain that God had made a mistake, and she’d been born into the wrong family.
   Building kitchen cabinets was boring and dusty and there wasn’t a thing about it that she liked.
   Adele snatched the pillow from the bed and tossed it at Tammy.
   “Tammy, have you decided what you want to be when you grow up?” Adele’s plan was to leave Hollowtown and travel as far away as possible. She’d study her brains out and hopefully, one day become a teacher.
    Adele sat up, folded her homework into her packsack and stared at Tammy. “Are you listening to me?”
   “Of course,” Tammy said. “Don’t know what I want to be.” She shrugged. “I’m not as smart as you. Don’t have the options you have.”
   “Pull up your grades, then. You’re not dumb, you just don’t try.”
   “Yes, I do.”
    Adele didn’t have time to comment. The phone rang and both girls jumped when they heard it blaring. It was the school letting them know the bus was fixed.
     Tammy turned off the television. “Fun time’s over.”
    “Figures. Didn’t even get to see the end of my favourite show.”
    Once outside the girls headed off to school. With a good fifteen minute walk ahead of them, Adele figured there was still lots of time for chit-chat.
    “You know Adele, I studied for an hour before I took that last exam. Got a half decent mark too.”
    Adele clapped her hands. “Not bad for not studying.”
   “Why bother, school’s a bore. Besides, I’m going to marry rich.”
   “You’re going to count on a man? Humph, not me. I’ll never need a man to help with the bills. Doubt I’ll need a man for anything.”
   “You will if you ever want any kids,” Tammy teased.
   “Never thought about that.”
   “Well you should. You might want few grandchildren later on to spoil.”
   Adele burst into laughter. “The things you think about.”
   “That’s what I do. Mom says I’m one of those dreamers with fancy plans that will never come true.”
   “What does she know,” Adele said without thinking. “I mean, she’s never around.” She stopped and turned to look at her friend. “When’s the last time you saw her?”
    Tammy shrugged her shoulders. “Can’t remember. She’s always out somewhere. I hardly ever see her, ‘sept on weekends and even then she’s only in for a few hours—you know, to do the laundry.”
   “When’s the last time you had a home-cooked meal? Adele asked.
    Tammy stopped, looking deep in thought. “Can’t remember. What a terrible memory I have,” she said as if it didn’t matter. But Adele knew it mattered. It mattered a lot.  What a terrible mother, leaving Tammy to fend for herself.
  “If you don’t mind me asking…what do you eat?”
   “All sorts of stuff. Mom might not be around much, but let me tell you there’s always plenty of food in the fridge. And the freezer is full. Mom has a ton of cookbooks lying around, you should come over sometime and I’ll cook you up a feast.  “Whattya say?”
   Adele smiled and patted her on the back. “I’d like that.”
   “Do you cook?”
   “A bit. I’d rather bake. Love licking the bowl—it’s the best part about baking.” She giggled.
   “Maybe that’s what I’ll be,” Tammy said.
   “What?”
   “A cook. I could manage a fine restaurant and cook for the elite.”
   “Think there’s any money in that kind of work?”
   “Sure there is, everyone has to eat. Why, I might even manage a huge franchise one day.”
   “I suppose.” Adele nodded, but thought,
highly unlikely
. As for her, she was going after a successful career. She wasn’t going to settle for anything less than what she felt she deserved.
    “What are you daydreaming about?” Tammy asked.
    “Traveling. Can’t wait to grow up and travel the world. Do you have plans like that?”
   “Nope. I just want to finish high school before I’m eighteen. After that, I’ll look for a man who has money, get married and live happily-ever-after.”
   “What if he dumps you, like your dad did your mom? What then?”
    Tammy waved her hand in dismissal. “Then I’ll take him to the cleaners, like Mom is Dad.”
    “Personally, I don’t believe in divorce.” Adele locked her arms together. “Not unless the guy’s a real creep and does the unthinkable.”
    “People get divorced all the time. Not many have parents like you.” Tammy frowned. “They still kissing in front of you?”
    “All the time.”
    Tammy shook her head. “Sickening.”
    “It’s better than fighting all the time like your folks.”
   “I guess. But they are kind of old to still be in love, don’t you think?”
    Adele laughed. “They’re young at heart. Besides, Mom could be a model she’s so pretty.”
    “Not mine. Nearly ready for the grave, they are. Can’t believe they carry on like they do. Dad’s seeing a young girl. Hard to believe a teenager would be interested in him. Think she’s after his money?”
   “Has he got any?”
   “He just bought a new sports car, so he must. It’s way too cool. The top folds down and everything.”
   “He could have bought it on time.”
   “Nah, Dad never buys anything he can’t afford, and he always brags that he pays cash.”
   “Must be nice. Wish my folks had money. But Mom says money’s the root of all sorts of evil. Actually the Bible says the same thing.”
    “That Bible’s what’s keeping you from having fun. If I were you, I’d throw it in the trash,” Tammy said and didn’t resist the impish urge to be herself.
    “Shame on you, Tammy. You should read it once in a while, might even help you stay out of trouble.”
   “Doubt it.”
   “Fine by me, I’m sticking to what I know is right. And may I remind you whose parents it is that are divorcing.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    “Maybe they should try marriage counseling.”
    “Way too late for that.”
    “It’s never too late. Anything worth having is worth working for. That’s what my mom says. She’s a wise woman.”
   “She’s also flat broke. And how happy are you, Adele?”
   “I’m very happy.”
   “Sure you are.” Tammy grinned.
   Adele fixed her eyes on the road. Her mood soured as she thought about the things Tammy had said. It was true, she hated to be poor. More than anything she longed for things that she knew she’d never have. And her mom would remind her just how sinful it was to be envious. She was guilty of that too.

Chapter 2
 

     December 1970
   The Martin home was always cold, especially on nights like these. December was the coldest month. Adele closed her eyes and hummed under her breath, trying to remember the song her grandmother, Hattie had taught her. The memory had faded and as hard as Adele tried she couldn’t seem to remember it now.
  
Since her grandmother’s death Adele had difficulty concentrating at school, as well as at home. Her grandmother was precious, so precious that her death sent seventeen-year-old Adele into a terrible depression. She couldn’t picture herself living in the house where her grandmother no longer lived in.
    The old run down farm house was now a miserable place to be, and at work with her father, she said so.
     “I wish we could leave the farm, Dad,” she said. “It’s not the same now that Grandma’s gone. A move to town would do us all good.”

      For a moment her father didn’t comment. He smiled, then winked. “What for?”

    “‘Cause the farm is cold, and building furniture and milking cows is man’s work.”
     “Got no boys to help out. I need the help, Adele.”
    “But the work’s strenuous. No girl should have to endure this kind of life.”
    “It’s not so bad here. Why, we’ve got these mountains and valleys like nobody’s business and five hundred acres of land. It’s a paradise.”
    “Is that what you call it?”

    “Many men would. Heck, there’s farming all around us and sixteen other families doing the exact same thing. Though none build furniture like I do. Besides, you’ll grow up soon enough. You’ll meet some guy and just like that, you’ll be gone.” Ryan snapped his fingers and then went back to milking cows.

    “I wish.”

    “You can wish all you want just keep milking.”

   “I know, I know. But our farm’s so big, and your carpentry business is so tedious.”

    “Stop whining. You’ve got lots to be thankful for. Don’t forget to thank the good Lord when you say your prayers tonight.”       

    “Yeah, yeah, I will.”     

     Inside though, Adele had no intention of thanking the Lord for the farm. Or for the cabinets. Nor the cows. And the five hundred acres of land she secretly wished would somehow disappear into thin air. She felt as if she were missing out on a normal life and the farm was the enemy.

      She wasn’t sorry for saying the things she’d said and wasn’t about to take any of it back. She was no hypocrite—just angry. And she felt sorry too for her younger sister, Jan who she was certain would grow up feeling the same way.

      On cold winter nights like these she had plenty of time for daydreaming and daydreaming proved to be her saving grace as she’d often fantasize about living abroad or better yet, becoming rich.
     A while later, the chores ended and she went inside the house for supper. 
     She passed by her grandmother’s bedroom, and, after five years, Adele still half expected to see her sitting in the room reading her favorite newspaper.
     Frances had her hands in soapy water. When she saw Adele, she tossed a wet cloth to her.
     “You have a bit of mud on your boots,” Frances said, “just give them a wipe and throw the rag in the laundry.” 
     “Okay, Mom.” Adele cleaned her sloppy boots and shivered. “It’s cold outside.” She sat on the closest chair, staring at her mother. “What’s for supper?”

    “I made your favorite homemade stew. It’s supposed to go down to minus ten tonight. The stew ought to warm you up.” Frances set a plate in front of Adele. “Where’s your dad?”
    “In the barn, where else? I swear he’s married to those damn cows.”
    “Adele!”
    “Well, he spends more time out there than he does in here. And it’s cold as hell outside.”
    “Watch your mouth,” Frances reprimanded.
    “Wish we had money. I could stand living in a brand new home, let me tell you,” Adele said as she munched on garlic bread.
     Frances scowled. Adele watched her mother pull her long hair away from her pretty face. “You shouldn’t be wishing for things you don’t have. Be content with the things you have.” She turned the stovetop to simmer and emptied a ladle of stew into a large bowl.

    “Why? What’s wrong with dreaming? Moving to town would be suit me fine.”

    “I see.”

     Exhausted, Adele wasn’t able to hold back her emotions.

    “Doesn’t being poor bother you?” She leaped off the chair, grabbed her empty plate and dropped it in the soapy water. “All my friends live in nice new homes. It’s hard not to be jealous.”

     “Jealousy is a sin,” Frances rebuked.

     “Everything’s a sin.”
      “Stop that!”
      “Stop what? Wanting more? What’s wrong with that? Look Mom, all my friends have Nintendo games, television sets, cars and all we have are kitchen cabinets and those fat, stupid cows outside.” She pointed to window. “Are you telling me it doesn’t ever bother you?”

    “Now and then,” she confessed.

    “That’s all?”

    “That’s what I said.”

    “Well it’s not fair.” 

     “I know you’re missing grandma, and it’s hard living here.”

     “Brutal, actually.” Her mother hadn’t a clue how she felt, she was sure of that.

      Frances was a devote Christian who wouldn’t stand for long rebellion, or complaining. She was devoted to her husband and family and as much as she loved Adele she’d only tolerate her whining up to a point. Frances had been raised in a loving home, though her parents were every bit as strict as she was.

     “Your father’s a hard worker.” 

     “I know.” Adele lowered her eyes to the bare wooden floor. “Dad loves building things. He loves the smell of woodchips, and farming, and the smell of cow manure. Being poor doesn’t even fizz on him. He thinks this place is a paradise. The guy’s got a few loose screws.”

    “That’s enough!” Frances said sharply. “Building things and farming is all he knows. He loves the land and there’s no sin in that.”

     “I know. But sometimes…all the work—”
     “That’s why he needs you.”

     “I know. I’m going to bed, Mom,” Adele said sliding off the chair.
     “Goodnight,” Frances said kissing Adele on the cheek.
       That night Adele went to her room tired. She climbed the stairs, and, fully dressed, fell into bed exhausted.
      The room was almost dark, a pale light shone through the homemade curtains, revealing small stitches which had been carefully, and lovingly sown together by her mother. 
     As clear as crystal Adele pictured her mother hard at work on her sewing machine, making drapes.
     It wasn’t good enough. Adele wanted more than anything to be like her friends and to be able to place an order from the Sears catalogue, and have brand new furniture and matching décor. She understood that all the other farmers in the area lived somewhat the same, but they didn’t have large farms and all the children in the surrounding area were much younger. She felt alone.
      Saddened and cold, she got up, pulled on her flannelette pajamas and crawled back under the covers.