Chapter
3
Meeting
Harry
Every Sunday, Mary Beth Older went to church. If it
rained, she skipped through sloppy puddles on the sidewalk on the way to
church. If it snowed, she made angels next to the church before church started.
No matter the weather or time of year, she had gone to church every Sunday of
her whole 13 years . . . except for one. It was the despondent day her parents
had been in the train wreck that took their young lives from them. Poor Mary
Beth lived with her Aunt Eilidh and Uncle Alastair. They were pleasant people, but
simple, like everyone else in the town.
Anyway, Mary Beth went to church every Sunday, and
everyone at the cathedral was well-behaved, even the smallest of the children, Rhonwen
Moore, who rarely was silent. You seldom heard any scolding, accept for a few
times when Gregor Moore was keeping his daughter, Rhonwen, in line. So on the
Sunday that you could hear the croaky uproar from Brooksdale Road to Elder Lane
was a boisterous event. Mrs. Isla Higgins was explosive as she reprehended her
grandson, Harrison.
“Angus
Harrison Higgins,” she screamed, “it
took me HOURS to iron and fold that coat after I scrubbed it THREADBARE from
the last time you soiled it, and what do you do the MOMENT I take my eyes off
of you? You go off and ruin it AGAIN with some sludge and dirty snow from the
road. You are IMPOSSIBLE!”Mary Beth felt compassionate
towards the cowering boy whom Mrs. Isla was telling off. That was, of course,
until she thought about his name some more and realized that he was a Higgins’.
At which point she shunned herself for inflicting decent feelings toward the
boy. She allowed herself then to wonder why he had always been addressed as
Harrison in her presence instead of Angus, his given name. Isla Higgins
snatched the cuff of Angus’ coat and dragged him toward
the door of the chapel.
“I
wonder why I’ve never noticed him before,”
Mary Beth thought. She shrugged the thought away and sat daintily down in the
second pew. To her surprise, Angus plopped down sloppily into the pew next to
her and her parents. She giggled at the way he acted like a drunkard, and then
became serious again when she saw the look of pure hatred pass through Isla and
her parents.
“That
tree is nearly half the size of ours, grandmother,”
Angus stated as he gestured to the teeming tree at the front of the church.
“Now,
Angus,” Isla poke loud enough for the Olders to hear her. “It
is not wise of us to boast of our surplus possessions.
“Alastair.
Eilidh. Good morning.” She said with a sharp nod
in the Olders’direction. Mary Beth attempted to scowl at Angus, but
quickly failed, do to his uproarious actions and slouchy posture.
“Angus
Higgins. What a pleasure.” said Mary Beth sarcastically,
in a subtle try to be mature.
“The
pleasure is all mine. Your name?”he
said as he kissed her hand, making her blush.
“Mary
Beth Older,” she said, sticking her nose up in the air.
“That’s
a mouthful. I think I’ll call you MB for short. And
please, call me Harry.” At that, Mrs. Higgins
turned abruptly toward the two young teenagers with a wild look in her eyes.
“Harrison,”
she said, putting emphasis on the use of his full name, “how
many times have I told you not to use that unbecoming nickname of yours? A
thirteen-year-old boy should have a proper name! It is indecent!”
“Yes,
Grandma.” He said with a reluctant look in Mary Beth’s
direction.
Mary Beth giggled at him and then turned away at his smug
smile. Throughout mass, she tried to sneak glances at him to see if he was
looking at her. He wasn’t. As Mary Beth walked home
that day, she felt a strong feeling towards Ang—Harry. It wasn’t
hate, like she thought it would be. No, it was something along the lines of
passion.
-- Holly
P.S. -- If you missed Chapters 1 and 2, you can read them here:
Chapter 1: http://4callingbirds.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-best-tree-of-all-part-i.html
Chapter 2: http://4callingbirds.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-best-tree-of-all-chapter-2.html
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