A sad, happy, and exciting story all at once, written in first-person style. Note: this is a fiction story; did not really happen.

Immy T.

Chapter 1

My real name isn't Immy T. It's actually Imogene Tara Jones. But everybody calls me Immy T. Even the trees in the small wooded area around the brook call me that. Their names are Lark, Sophie, Addy, Benny T, Ralph, Oscar, Herbie, Dana, Edward, Dalilah, Katrina, Andrew, Oliver, Ophelia, and Jedd. Yep, that's the names of my best friends, the trees.
I never start a day without a schedule. My schedule for today was...
1. Eat a breakfast containing the usual buttered toast, apple, and strawberries.
2. Get Jibby and make him be the king of my castle, (really just a fort,) on top of the mountain, (really a large, steep hill.)
3. Talk to Ralph, Oscar, Herbie, Dalilah, my favorite of the bunch, and climb them.
4. Talk to and be with my favorite tree on the top of the mountain by my castle, Cri. She is the youngest tree who always warms my heart when she talks; she's happy about every second of the day.
5. Get my studies and homework done. (I'm home schooled.)
6. Talk to the brook, Gloria.
7. Play in the brook. (She thinks it tickles when I get in and play.)
8. Play some more in the brook and talk. (I usually play in the brook in whatever clothes I am in, and when I'm done, I change into clean, dry clothes. This means my favorite pair of socks, too. Their names are Felice and Kenny.)
9. Have lunch, as always containing two peanut butter, peanut, and blueberry sandwiches, a banana, and one carton of milk, and one glass of Fruity Tooty Drink, the Melon-Berry kind.
10. I usually just ramble about, talk to the clouds, and talk to Stephen, the sun.
11. Usually at about six o'clock pm we eat dinner. Then I look out the window, and when it's a full moon, I can talk to Luna, the moon.
12. Then I read to Luna and everyone else in my room, including Jibby, my Westie puppy, Philip, my parakeet, and Nibbs and Tibby, my two black kittens, from stories that I made up myself. I always write them in my Magic Book. Recently I have been reading one I wrote when I was in first grade, called "Dreamer."
13. Finally, I draw a picture of my day and go to sleep.

Yep, that's my usual schedule. That's what happens during the day at the Jones' house. I also talk to trees other than Ralph, Oscar, Herbie, and Dalilah. Another thing I always get to squeeze in there is talking and playing with Mama and Pappy.
So now you know the basic things about me, things that everybody thinks are weird. Just to be curious about something, do you think I am weird and strange? (pause) If you didn't want to tell me you could have at least said it nicely. I was only wonderin', that's all.

Chapter 2

I'm only called Imogene Tara Jones when Mama and Pappy are mad. They don't get mad much, though, 'cause I'm pretty much a good girl. I do remember a couple of times I did, though.

We were coming home from the picnic, and I wasn't hungry anymore, but I knew Mama and Pappy would say that once you start somethin' ya gotta finish it. It was a peanut butter, peanut, blueberry sandwich, and since I had already eaten three, I could only eat half of the fourth. I really was full, honest. But that ain't what Mama and Pappy would think. Well, they would have known I was full, but they were too full to finish it for me. So I wrapped it up in a napkin, and when I got home, I fed it to Philip, who didn't seem to like peanut butter, peanut, and blueberry sandwiches. My floor was soon covered in breadcrumbs, peanut butter, peanut, and now squashed blueberries, right below Philip. Unfortunately, my parents had found the mess before I did, and sure enough, I heard those words, Pappy was shouting, "Imogene Tara Jones" from inside the house. Of course, I was outside with Cri outside my castle on the mountaintop. When I heard my name, I knew I was in big trouble, well, not big trouble, but trouble. I had to wash it off as much as I could with a rag, and Mama did the rest since I was only in preschool. (That's how long I've been eating peanut butter, peanut, and blueberry sandwiches! They really do taste good! You should try it sometime.)

Do ya wanna hear another time? Okay, sure!

I was in my castle on the mountaintop, and sure enough, I heard it.
Pappy was shoutin', "Imogene Tara Jones!" from way inside the house, that's how loud Pappy's voice is, I'll tell ya, it done be true. It really is. But the strange thing was, this particular time I didn't wanna leave my castle, 'cause I hadn't a clue why Pappy was yellin' my whole name; I didn't know why I was in trouble! So I went inside to find Jigsby and Trixy, my two white baby bunnies, hopping along inside the house! My jaw dropped all the way down to my toes, I tell ya. I scolded them and scooped them both up in my right arm. I shook my left pointer finger at them and scolded again, plopping Jigsby and Trixy on the warm spring earth.
They said, "The door was open, and you know how we like to explore anywhere we can get our paws! It ain't our fault!"
"Yeah!" said the other
"Oh, it done be your fault! You bad, bad bunnies. I ought to keep you in a cage with a big lock for what you done!"
They pleaded, because I always say that when they got into some trouble, but I never do it.
"Please, please, Immy T! Don't do that!" they pleaded the way they always do, and I always say, 'Don't do it again, and I won't.'

Well, sorry, but I need to read to Jibby, Philip, Nibbs, and Tibby now, before I don't have enough time to draw my picture of my day.

Chapter 3

What's that? You want to hear, too? Okay. Listen closely, 'cause you can only hear and feel the magic if you do.

"Chapter 3, The Master.
Ahem. Now, Rose was not yet aware that her dreams in Loosong were going to disappear. She did not know that her world of dreams would be taken away, and all of her adventures there would soon end if she did not do something. She hadn't been to Loosong in a long time, so she had no idea of the dangers that she would face. There was a dangerous monster, so horrible, trolls and bad, bad fairies even feared to hear of him. Rose hadn't heard of him, but when she returned to Loosong, the fairies and princesses were acting suspicious; they were whispering."
I stopped talking for a moment for scolding Jibby for drooling all over Philip. Since when did he eat parakeets? Jibby had to be put in his cage, 'cause he wouldn't stop trying to eat Philip. Then I continued, ignoring Jibby's whining and barking. He was whining, "Let me out. I was just having fun!" Again, I ignored him and continued.
"And she was gettin' real suspicious, so she went around askin' and alls people could say was, "Nothing, dearie." or, "Go along and play now." And that is exactly what she did. She went, and what she found couldn't be described in human words. What she saw was the subject of all Rose's suspicions, and all the whispering, too. She stood, completely face to face, with The Master."
I concluded chapter 3 and told Jibby, Philip, Nibbs, and Tibby that they needed to go to sleep, and they whined. Then Calvin and Hobbs came in. "C'mon, Immy T! Read another chapter." And I had only said that I needed time to draw my picture of the day. They got real mad, but listened as I went to get my art supplies. I had a 184-piece art kit. It has fifteen oil pastels, four erasers, three liquid glues, three glue stick glues, twelve regular pencils, thirteen pages of stickers, twenty-five washable markers, seventy-five colored pencils, twenty-four paint tubes, nine paintbrushes, and a palette. I would draw a beautiful picture of the brook and trees and Mama and Pappy and Nibbs, Tibby, Jibby, Jigsby, Trixy, and Calvin and Hobbs, (my twin Siamese kittens,) and me sitting in the castle on top of the mountain, playing and making magic together. Then I would go to my desk and do a double outline of the lines in the picture, one outline in crayon, the other in colored pencils. And I would paint the insides of the well shaped pictures and use oil pastels to color details such as eyes, nose, mouth, and stripes or spots on the animals, too. Mama and Pappy always loved seeing them and put each in a folder full of them the next day when I would show them. I loved and still do love to see them happy.

Chapter 4

I haven't been scheduling, eating, drinking, playing, talking, drawing; I have been miserable. Pappy has come down with cancer in his leg. His hair is falling out, he is miserable, too, and Mama and I can't run the farm alone.
One thing I've noticed since Pappy got sick is that when I am miserable, the trees, brook, Philip, Nibbs, Tibby, Jibby, Jigsby, Trixy, and Calvin and Hobbs are sad and miserable with me. Pappy just isn't the strong, fighting, amazing Super Dad that I used to know. He's weak and tired all the time. He's lost his appetite, too; whenever Mama and I ask him if he wants anything to eat or drink, he either says flatly, "No." or he doesn't say anything at all. Sometimes now that Pappy's sick, I wonder why my perfect life and perfect family have disappeared. If everything were normal, I wouldn't have to think about how many things so many other families and people are going through. Maybe God is giving me a test, 'cause I never thought of it before the past couple months. I don't like this test, though, if it even is a test. I hoped it would disappear and it was just a test that I would pass with a rainbow of colorful shooting stars. But it wasn't. I wasn't passing. And then I did pass, only I didn't know at the time, 'cause nothing went back to normal. In fact, everything went wrong.

Chapter 5

Pappy was getting worse and worse. Nothing could stop it. The weekly therapy sessions were not helping his cancer at all. He would have to stay in the hospital for a long time, maybe 'til his death. I hadn't liked to think about it. I had encouraged myself that he would get better, that this was all just God's test. But I knew I had to at least take the possibility that he really, actually might die. I felt like I would have to die if he did; I couldn't handle life without him.
I don't want him to die. Well, that's sort of obvious. Who doesn't love their father? There are actually people who hate their father. It's sad; it makes me thankful that I even have a father at all. I don't know what I would do without Pappy.
Pappy began to gradually get even worse. But I wanted to be as happy as I could for now with him, and not so grumpy; make the best of it for now. Waiting. Never knowing 'til it actually happens. My mind feels like a tornado filled with flames of sadness and grief and sorrow.

Chapter 6

I giggled as Pappy lifted my chin and tickled underneath it. I smiled my baby smile and grabbed his thumb. I shook it and stuck it in my mouth, trying to chew it with my gums. He smiled a smile too big for his face, and so did I. His eyes were smiling, too. And laughing. They were soft as an angel's eyes, glowing when someone has accepted Jesus into their life because of them.

Lately I had been remembering things about Pappy. He had been in the hospital for quite a while, now. A couple of weeks, maybe months. I hadn't been keeping track; I figured it would just make everything worse. I had been waiting in the waiting room when I had this memory, and we were at the hospital. It was three o'clock in the morning before we heard news. I woke up to Mama stroking her hands through my hair. I lifted my head and looked up. I sat there, Mama soothing me. After a couple of minutes, a doctor appeared, and he took my Mama to the side and talked quietly so I didn't hear. I held my breath the whole time, waiting. Finally, Mama came over and patted my arm, saying Pappy's cancer had improved miraculously. I let myself breathe and said a silent prayer, "Thank you, Jesus, for answering my prayers!" We got to go in to see him. He smiled that smile, and his eyes looked as an angel's.

Chapter 7

Pappy had soon become better and happier, and so had I. Now, my mind felt like an angel had gone through it and sparked and sprinkled pixie dust that made me soar through the clouds. Pappy was better, and so was I. I was so happy, as soon as Pappy got home, I hugged him, and I couldn't stop. I kissed him and I loved him a lot more than usual. I spent so much time with him and I shook his thumb and giggled and smiled a smile too big for my face. He put the same smile on. His eyes were smiling, too. And laughing. They were soft as an angel's eyes, glowing because someone had just accepted Jesus into their life because of them. Like he remembered, too.

Immy T

P.S. Mama, Jibby, Tibby, Nibbs, Calvin and Hobbs, Jigsby, Trixy, Philip, Cri, Addy, Lark, Sophie, Andrew, Oliver, Ophelia, Jedd, Oscar, Herbie, Katrina, Dalilah, Dana, Ralph, Benny T, Felice, Kenny, Cri, Gloria, Stephen, and Luna, and, well, of course Pappy, send you best greetings.
P.P.S. So do I.
P.P.P.S. I was gonna tell ya somethin' but now I forget. Oh, well.
P.P.P.P.S. I remember now. Ahem. We all lived happily ever after. THE END. Now, get outta here. I ain't gonna get my happy ending with you around.

Short story by Catherine Stout
Read 522 times
Written on 2006-05-20 at 21:01

Tags Tragedy 

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