As I said in my blog last night, my story tonight is a revision, a correction if you like. From a Writer’s group last week, I wrote a story, using the last line from My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult, mistakenly as the first line of my story. That last line was “I take her with me, wherever I go.” This last line was actually to be the last line of my story. So I took my error as a challenge. The challenge? To write the same story but change the position of this ‘last line’.
Changing Places ~ Version Two
Beliefs take time. I had believed that she was some sort of good luck charm. It was past time that I let go of this precious. That’s what I had called her then. When people asked me her name, I told them it was Molly, not wanting people to think I wasn’t grown up. Now Molly is smudged and is missing one eye. Her hair, once neon red, is now a strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She was given to me on my tenth birthday. She still wears the beautiful mauve dress, now faded, that has a yellowed and frayed lace collar. Unless I take it to be washed, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a frothy lace-fringed fold over top. Now, only one sock is left, but she wears it anyway.
Cindy, my six year old granddaughter came rushing in the back door one Sunday morning. “Look Grandma! I brought Molly some new socks. They’re almost exactly the same. See. Except the lace. But there’s pretty shiny ribbon around the edge.” She had always played with Molly when she came to see her Gran. Sometimes she would help me pack when I would travel, always wanting Molly in the exact middle cuddled in one of my sweaters. One day she was very quiet as I was getting ready to go off on my travels. “Cindy. It’s time to settle Molly so we can go on our trip.” She clutched Molly to her and said “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” Her serious six year old tone deserved an honest answer. “Well, she has been my companion and friend on my travels. And do you know what, she is a memory of another little doll I had been given, another precious doll who was destroyed by a mischievous five-year old. On that birthday so long ago, I vowed to her that she would be taken care of and that I would take her with me wherever I went. My serious little Cindy furrowed her little brow and asked “Do you think she’s getting tired of being stuffed in your suitcase when you go away? I think she is.” I smiled inside and tried to look as thoughtful as possible. “You know honey, I really think she is quite tired and really would rather stay here with you….if that’s alright.” Her little face lit up with smiles. “Really grandma?! But won’t you get lonesome?” I hugged her to me. “No, but I will be happy that my Molly is safe with you.” She pulled away and with that precious serious little face, she nodded her head sternly and said “Now it’s my turn. I take her with me, wherever I go.”
“Even if people are still very young,
they shouldn’t be prevented from saying what they think.”
~ Anne Frank
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