Generation Seven Heir Vote

   Welcome to the heir vote for my legacy. There are two different people who you can vote for to be heir, so let's get started!

  The first choice is Basil (pronounced like the herbal plant, bay-sell, not bah-zel) Janes. She dreams of becoming a nature photographer. Her lifetime wish is Visionary (max out the painting and photography skills) and her traits are loves the outdoors, artistic, photographer's eye, loves the heat, and family oriented.

  The second choice is Harbor Janes. He dreams of becoming a sailor and will move to Isla Paradiso. He might even meet a mermaid along the way... ;) His lifetime wish is Grand Explorer (find all the mysterious/uncharted islands) and his traits are loves to swim, absent minded, clumsy, sailor, and loves the heat.

   You may be curious about Wren, who I didn't include in the heir vote, because I'm planning on creating a spin-off story for her, called Tracked. I've set up the blog for Tracked and am working on the first chapter, which will be released as soon as possible, sometime this week.

Thanks for voting!

Basil- 5

Harbor-5

Total- 10


Vote on the FORUMS.

7.14: Family Time

    "Can you believe how much time has passed?" I asked Rosie, as we sat on a bench, in the same park that we got married in.
    "I know." She said, smiling, glancing around. Our three children, Basil, Wren, and Harbor, had all grown up so quickly... Basil had announced that she wanted to be a nature photographer; she was turning twenty-one soon. Wren and Harbor, who were also eighteen and legal adults, had recently graduated high school. Harbor, who had always loved nature and the beach, was thinking of maybe buying a boat and sailing around the world; the ocean was a perfect place for him. Wren had become more skittish and was frequently running off to who knows where. "They're all grown up."
    "It feel like just yesterday we were standing here, saying I do."
    "It does." Rosie agreed, holding onto my hand. "I love you Hazel."
    "I love you, too Rosie." I kissed her cheek, as I heard the familiar sounds off the children. I felt a pang of sadness; I couldn't call them children anymore, they  were grown up. "I wonder what Harbor's doing." I said, glancing over at him.
   "I don't know." Rosie shrugged, also looking at our only son, who was climbing up the ladder of the play set.

Harbor's Point of View...

   "Hey, Wren." I said, glancing up at my twin sister, who was sitting on the playground set. "Whatcha doing?"
   "Not much." I heard her say, as she sighed. "You know how I feel about family time."
   "You think it blows?" I asked.
   "Yeah." I heard her chuckle a little, as I began climbing up the ladder.

  "What's funny?" I asked, as I sat down next to her, almost hitting my head on the low roof.
   "Oh... I mean, everyone knows that I hate family time. I-" She took a deep breath and glanced at me, as if she was going to say something important. "I care about you guys, though. Ya know? It's stupid, but... family is family, right?"
   "It isn't stupid." I reassured her. "I care about you guys, my family, too."
   "Yeah, but you like hanging about with our parents and Basil and stuff."
   "Nothing wrong with that." I shrugged, feeling a little offended. I liked my family and why bother insulting that? "They're actually kinda cool."
   "Harbor. You think our parents are cool?"
   "I mean, you know. They aren't super lame and give us a lot of freedom. They don't mind taking me on weekend boating trips or Basil to LA for photo ops and contests."
    "Hey, guys! Smile!" I heard Basil shout, down on the ground.
    "Speaking of Basil, looks like she's got the camera." Wren sighed. She hated have her photo taken, even though Basil did it all the time. "She's gonna be the crazy camera lady we see at events, telling her kids to pose and stuff."
    "At least we'll get some freaking awesome holiday cards." I tried to be optimistic; why bother being upset or looking at the bad side when life was so great?
    "Yeah... at least she actually knows how to use a camera and isn't someone who takes crappy iPhone pics and Photoshops the hell out of them."
    "I got the perfect shot!" Our sister shouted, waving her camera in the air.
    "Delete it!" Wren called out, standing up. "Delete it, please."
    "Only if you can catch me." She teased, turning to run.

   "I gotta go catch the blonde who's being a bit bitchy."  Wren said to me, as she told a hold of the pole and slide down it.

Basil's Point of View...

   "Catch me if you can." I shouted, as Wren began sprinting after me. I felt like a five year of again, playing silly games with my sister.
    "Caught you." Wren said, as she grabbed onto my arm. She could always run faster then me.

  "Do I have to delete the picture? It's a nice one. The lighting reflects off of-"
   "Yes, yeah ya do." She said, interrupting my photography babble. "I hate my photo being taken, you know that."
   "But you're so photogenic. Isn't it a tiny bit ironic?" Flattery usually worked on the subjects who were reluctant to let me capture their image; why shouldn't the trick work on Wren?
   "No. Come one, you said if I could catch you, you'd delete it and I did."
   "Fine. But it's a really pretty shot."
   "I'm naturally really pretty, so it makes sense that my photos would be too." She smirked, playing the flattery game with me, as she grabbed for my camera.
   "Here." I sighed, as I handed her my camera I'd received for my birthday a little over half a decade ago. "Be careful, that thing may be old, but it's still worth a couple hundred bucks."The camera was my prize possession and if Wren hurt it, I would probably have to hurt her... not that I actually would, considering my lack of physical strength.

    "Don't worry. Even if I do drop it, I've got the money."
    "How do you- never mind." Wren shot me a look, as if to tell me not to ask. She fumbled around with the buttons for a few seconds, then handed me back my pride and joy.
    "Thank you." She said, just as her phone began beeping.
    "I think you have a message."
    "Yeah, I probably should check it." She said, pulling out her phone, walking away from me. She was so secretive; what was going on?

Hazel's Point of View (Again)...

  "Hazel, I think we should tell them now." Rosie said, adoringly looking into my eyes. I looked back into hers. They were a pool of melted chocolate and I wanted nothing more than to be able to go swimming in them, all night long.
   "You're right." I agreed, as we stood up off the bench.
   "Harbor, Basil, Wren!" Rosie exclaimed, walking over towards the picnic tables. I followed her, hoping everything would go well. We hadn't just gathered in the park for family time to have fun, we had news. Basil and Harbor gathered around us, as Wren stood off to the side of the park, playing on her phone.
    "We, mum and I, have something to tell you."

    "What is it?" Harbor asked, worry spreading across his delicate face. "Is everything okay?"
     "Yes." Rosie nodded, "We- what's Wren doing?"
     "She got a text." Basil told us, gently placing her camera on a picnic table; she was preparing to be shocked and didn't want to drop the possession she loved so dearly. "Please, tell us. She'll come over in a second."
     "Hazel." Rosie softly nudged my arm, prompting me to announce the plan.
     "We've decided to move to France. I'm officially retiring from the science facility; we've done all the research needed, so I'd be losing my job soon anyway."
     "Mother, you're too young to retire." Basil said, looking confused. "You're not even fifty."
     "I know, honey. I'm not officially retiring retiring, but that's what I'm calling it."
     "Why France, then? Why not stay here? I know they have beautiful scenic views and I would love to take a vacation there to capture them, but I have a life in America."

     "We're all not moving. Your mum and I are. I can garden in France just as well as I can in Appaloosa Plains, but she'll be able to make better wine."
      "What about us?" Harbor asked. "What will we do?"
      "We're giving you your inheritance money early." Rosie said. "Instead of waiting another thirty or forty years. Hopefully you don't mind."
      "Of course not!" Basil and Harbor articulated unamiously.
      "We're selling the house. I bought it for a fairly high price; we'll be able to sell it for a decent price and split the money evenly between you three."
       "Mother..." Basil said, looking at me with wide eyes. "You're leaving to go live in a foreign country and giving us a large sum of money. Are you sure everything's alright?"
       "Nothing is wrong... There's just so many memories concerning the past here. My father was pretty infamous, so there's still things named after him here. We want to help you all out with something you love doing; the money we're splitting between you three should be used to support a passion, such as boating, or photography, or college, not just to buy front row tickets to some concert or a luxurious car or mansion."
       "We love you all and want to help your future." Rosie said. "What's keeping Wren? She should be hearing this."

       "Guys, guys!" As if on cue, Wren shouted while running up to us. "We have to go home. Now."
       "Sweetie, calm down. What's going on?"
       "I just... feel... off? Yeah. I feel off. We need to go. Now."
       "I suppose it is getting dark and if you feel bad, we can talk more about the news at home."
       "Yeah, yeah. We need to get home." She said, out of breath. I shook my head, sighing. Wren was always mysterious. I began walking to our car, holding hands with my wife. The children slowly followed us. I had a wife and children; after everything we'd gone through, life was wonderful. I had my family and my garden and was about to move to Paris, as soon as the realtor could find someone to buy the home. Wasn't life fabulous?

NOTE: This is the last chapter of Hazel's generation and the heir poll will be out soon. Hopefully switching from Hazel's to Harbor's to Basil's and then back to Hazel's POV wasn't too confusing for anyone; I wanted to cover a bit of everything.

7.13: The Beginning of the Bad

 WARNING: The words d--n, h--l, b---h, and p--s are used. There's a few references as well that push the rating, so yeah.
 

Wren's POV...

   I sashayed out of the salon, with my newly streaked hair. My mint green highlights matched my sparkling zebra tank top and mini skirt. Mum forced me to put on a long sleeve shirt under the tank top, but couldn't convince me to wear leggings. They were so yesterday and, since she wouldn't buy me fishnets, I didn't have any to match. Thank goodness we were on winter break and mother was at work, otherwise I don't think I could have escaped the house long enough to get my highlights. I'd been saving for over a year and finally I had enough to get a top of the line job done. It was a shame they couldn't last forever.
   I began walking towards the road, ready to hail a cab. it was freezing cold; I wasn't walk home in this outfit. I liked to think that the hotter you look, the quicker you get cold. Tank tops and mini skirts were the skimpiest thing I own; I was trying to make everyone jealous, not earn a reputation as class slut. I didn't make out with a different guy everyday behind the bleachers or smoke in the bathroom or do it in the back of someone's pick up truck in ninth grade and I hardly skipped class. I didn't pay much attention to whatever the hell the teacher droned on about, but was still passing every class with a C. I didn't even bribe the teachers with money or a little student-teacher tongue to tongue. I used my damn brain and logic; that's what you needed in life, not Shakespeare.

   "Hey, hot stuff!" I heard some jerk who was prancing out of the tattoo parlor hat was connected to the salon shout. "Over here!" I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. I wasn't trying to provoke anyone who wasn't in my grade; I didn't want middle aged creeps catcalling, I just wanted the other seniors going insane over me. I wanted attention from high school guys, not guys who dropped out of school and were high. "Hey, look at me. You deaf?"
   I glanced around, hoping a cab would roll by; I didn't want to have to deal with him. Why was he calling out to me? If you compared me to the cheer leading bitches, I was dressed like a nun. I shivered, as the snow started sticking to my skin. I regretted not wearing jeans or at least knee high socks or tights. I was freezing my butt off.
   "Hey, black head girl. I can tell you can hear me. I can tell and it pisses me off that you won't listen."
    "Look, creep, do anything to me, touch me and I'll scream." I turned to face him.
    "Let's talk. All I wanna do."
    "Nah."
    "Come over here."
    "Leave me alone if I do?"
    "Yeah, sure."
    "Fine." I said, prancing over towards him, making sure to shake my assets a few times and flip my hair. Up close, he looked younger... I'd say hotter as well, but he had a weird patch of hair of his face. If he shaved that and smiled a bit and stopped yelling at girls, he'd defiantly be cuter. I could tell he worked out; he muscles bulged through his shirt... if only he shaved and wasn't a giant son of a bitch. "Hey, how old are you?"
     "Why?"
     "You look younger then I thought you were."
     "How old did you think I was?"
     "Late twenties."

   "Dude, I'm eighteen. Can you tell?"
   "Look, dude, if you shaved your damn face maybe I could tell." I snapped, not liking the fact that he called me dude. Who used that word anymore?
    "Chill out. I was teasing. I'm eighteen and you're, what, fifteen?"
    "Eighteen, too. Senior at the local high school. You attend?"
    "I'm enrolled... doesn't mean that I attend."
    "So no."
    "That would be correct."
    "If you did, you'd know me. Maybe I'd know you." I glanced at him. If he got his act together, he could play some spring sport and get in with the jocks. He had the attitude, now he just needed to both showing up to tryouts.
    "You're what, the lesbo couple's daughter?"
    "Shut up, jerk."
    "Best you got?"

    "Just because I have two mothers who are perfectly happy and have been together for forever doesn't mean you get to call be the lesbo couple's daughter. I am my parents daughter and who gives a damn if they're straight or not? It's their business, not yours or any other fool's who thinks it is."
    "I was kidding."
    "Don't. My parents could move from this state to another and their marriage wouldn't even be recognized. I'm tired of people who make fun of them. Love is love and you don't criticize it just because it's between two women. Got it? You're lucky I don't storm off; I have no tolerance for those ignorant, intolerant comments."
    "You're fired up."
    "I want my parent's to get respect."
    "Fine. Sorry, gee. Look, I have to tell you something. Wanna go someplace private?"
    "No, I want to go someplace well lite with people around. I don't know you, you don't know me." I shrugged, rolling my eyes at the thought of me actually agreeing to go someplace with him of all people.
    "There's a bar that never check your ID right there." He gestured across the street.
    "I don't drink. I'm under aged."
    "So am I and I've tried beer. Still here today, perfectly okay."
    "I wouldn't say perfect." I mumbled, following him across the street to the bar.

    We walked inside, the bouncer not even stopping us for a moment. You's think for a town that only has one bar they'd pay better attention. Sadly, or shall I say luckily, they didn't. I followed him up the stairs, past the jukebox and broken down arcade game machines and trashy bar and bartender who had a bad dye job; mine clearly topped hers.
   "What's going on? Whay do you need me?" I asked, once we'd found a quiet corner to chat in. The bartender could see us; if anything got out of hand, he'd be bale to step in and help.
    "Need money?"
    "I guess. I won't steal though."

   "Really? I had you pegged for a bad thief type of person."
   "No stealing." I said once more. "And I'm not bad, just... and attention seeker. I like causing a little bit of a mess. I'm occasionally troubled. Not bad, though."
   "Is that what you call it? Troubled."
   "You heard me." I glanced at him, wondering hwy I was wasting my winter break talking to him.
    "I did. Lucky for me, it isn't stealing. Good thing, too... the boss would have..."
    "Have what?"
    "He's got a temper. Running rings around Washington, Oregon, Montana, the Dakotas, and northern California is stressful."
    "Rings? What type and in six different states? Who is he?"
    "Not for me to say. Let's just put it this way, I know very little. That  very little, is more then you know, though. You tell any things won't end well. What you now know is enough to tick off the boss."
     "What would he do to me?" I asked, feeling nervous. I wasn't bad, I didn't break laws.

     "Let's just say, he's disposed of several people... they're no longer alive to tell the story of their disposal, though. He's the master who plans it all out and if you say no, he sends his hit men to take care of you. Hasn't been caught yet."
     "Is it real? Are you serious?" I snorted, trying to sound like I didn't believe him, when, truthfully, I did.
     "Read the news lately? You hear about the body found in Olympia National Park?"
     "Really?" I gasped. He had to be lying... mother cancelled our camping trip because of that body that was found back in September. I believed him, but at the same time it felt too odd. What did they want with me of all people? I was a senior in the damn local high school; I wasn't even a high school criminal. "That's him? Your boss planned it?"
     "My boss' boss' boss See, now this is secret. Other then the whole kill thing, it's the worst I know. I tell you, you tell anyone, you're dead. I'm not suppose to tell, but... dammit. You're cute and I haven't recruited anyone in the past two years, when I first began, and I think they're gonna come after me. Look, Washington's divided into four regions. Each state has a different amount of regions, depending on convenience and where each ring is. I don't know how the hell they do it, but whatever. Each region has one person overlooking it. Okay? Each state has one person who looks over everything, ya know, those are who the region managers report to, the state managers. The state managers, there's six of them, report to the big boss."
     "I think you're lying. It sound too cartoonish. Like a movie or something." I turned, ready to wlak away, when he grabbed my arm."
     "I'm not. Please, don't leave. If you do, both me and you are in trouble."
     "Liar."
     "No, dammit bitch, I ain't."

     "Prove it." I said, suddenly feeling courageous. "What do you want with me? Who found me and told a manager or boss or whatever the hell you call it? How did they find you?"
     "Look, I can't-"
     "Goodbye, then."
     "No! Don't, you- I could die."
     "I don't think you're telling me the truth." I was in deep waters; one wrong movement and I was drowning, one right one and I was floating to the paradise island of information.
     "The Washington manager found you. How? I don't know. There's ways of getting info I don't know about. Look, they want you to sell."
      "Sell what?"
     "Cut the innocent act, bitch."
     "Call me bitch one more time and I"ll cut you."
     "There's the rebel, they found. I sell mostly the white powder-"
     "Coke?" I asked.
     "Like this." He said, holding up a small bag. "Believe me now?"
     "Put that up!" I whispered. "We could get caught! I can't get caught with a druggie."
     "I don't use really, I sell it. Mostly to Appaloosa Plains bums who are middle aged alcoholic and the occasional addict chick who will offer her body for a snort. Usually we'll sell those ladies the stuff that knocks 'em out."
     "How much will I get paid?"
     "Depends. We mostly need someone to peddle steroids to dumb high school guys and gals who want to win, pot cause they want a harmless high to get them away from high school, and somebody to cut the serious stuff." He wiggled the plastic bag in front of my face. "Flour, baby powder, don't care, what just cut it with something."

     "What if I say no?"
     "You'll end up badly." He shrugged. "We've been over this."
     "I know... I just can't wrap my head around it. How did this begin here? How did it get here?"
     "Oh, simple. Everyone has a different story, but I like this one. This girl, I don't know what the hell the bitch's name was. Anyway, she moved here, a gold digger, to marry a ancient dude. Her husband then died, she missed her family and didn't know how to do anything other then sex, so she started doing these drugs. After she found herself this sugar daddy firefighter, she started paying for the drugs instead of offering assorted sexy fun time tasks. Her firefighter boy toy knocked her up and kicked her out, she became depressed, had this bitchy toddler kid thing who eventually ran back to the firefighter dad of hers, and her whore of a mother happened to OD. The end."
     "That's horrible! How can you tell the story with feeling bad?"
     "Look, it's probably exaggerated. Just tell me, will you do it?"
     "Fine." I sighed. I was intrigued; this seemed so  unreal, yet here he was, a classmate of mine, convincing me to sell steroids and crap.
     "Great. You know, you can't escape, though. Right?"
     "Please." I rolled my eyes. "Look, if I'll be gone more and sneaking around, you know my overprotective parents will try and mess with stuff."
     "Think of a cover. Hell, I don't care. I gotta report to my region manager who's in town today only. Okay?"
     "I know!" I exclaimed, my mind slyly thinking of the perfect excuse. I just wanted to dip my toes into the pond and see what he was talking about, see if this hardcore drug scene he told me about was real and my excuse would be perfect. "The New Year's dance. Go with me."
    "I'm not gonna pretend to be your damn boyfriend just so you can peddle."
    "My parents will never suspect that I'm lying. Please. Look, I won't if you say no. Besides it will be easy, just act like you give a crap about me and shave your damn face."
    "If I do, I get to take twenty percent out of your salary until we fake breakup."
    "Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Boyfriend."
    "My girlfriend's bitchy." He sighed. "And will look damn fine in a dress."
    "That's right." I said, as he leaned forward, to whisper in my ear.

   "I get the dirty deeds done to me, right?"
   "Ew!" I pulled away from him. "Look, just... not unless we're actually dating. I'm not a slut." And with that, he smirked and turned away, hurrying off to find his boss. What had I gotten myself into? I go to the salon to get mint green highlights and I end up with a job and fake boyfriend who supposedly has been dealing since he was sixteen. Life sure gets interesting pretty quickly...

NOTE: This is my one hundredth chapter for The Janes Legacy! Can you believe it? Over a year ago, I published the first chapter and now we've reached one hundred chapters. One hundred! I knew that legacies had a lot, but one hundred! I'm still amazed by the fact... thank you to everyone who's been reading. Thank you to the lurkers who haven't commented and to the person who's commented on every chapter. Thank you. (P.S. If you're wondering why I published three chapters in one day, this is why. Also, the next chapter won't have as much language in it.)

7.12: Commotions and Anniversaries

   "Welcome home!" Rosie and I exclaimed, as soon as Basil stepped foot in the house. Wren and Harbor, who were running off of the large , yellow school bus weren't far behind her.
    "I'm just coming home." She laughed. "What's up?"
    "Well..." Rosie began. "Your mother and I had an idea, so while she was at work some decorating was done. She took off early, to be able to be here to see you right as you got home."
     "That's so nice." She exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face.
     "We thought we'd do something special for your birthday today!" Basil, our thirteen year old eight grader; she was going to be a freshman next year, was turning fourteen! I couldn't believe that time had flown by so quickly...

     "Come into the kitchen." Rosie said, leading Basil, Wren, Harbor, and I into the kitchen. None of us, except for my wife, knew what was in there. "Look!" She walked over to a deep fryer, picking up a basket of what appeared to be french fries. French fries? She was perfectly aware of how unhealthy those where. I couldn't believe she'd do this to our children. Cake was alright on birthdays, but French fries? I forced a smile, not wanting to cause a fight between us in front of the children.
    "A deep fryer? And ice cream maker!" Basil looked around the kitchen, her eyes filled with surprise and excitement. "Thank you mum, thank you mother." She reached her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

    "Oh it was all your mum's idea." I whispered into her ear, not wanting to be blamed when the countless health problems deep fried foods caused.
    "Thank you mum." She said, pulling away from me.
    "I'm hungry." Wren complained, clutching her stomach. "School food isn't good."
    "Honey, you should have asked me to make you lunch. I make Harbor's." Rosie said, as Harbor stared off into space, licking his ice cream cone.
    "Nah. I mean, I'm okay. Thanks."
    "Basil, why don't you take a peek of the dining room? Wren, Harbor, you could go with her." I said, as they dashed away to the formal dining room, no doubt wanting to know what was in there.

     "Hazel, what's going on?" Rosie asked, flipping the deep fryer's switch to the off position.
     "Look... I just."
     "What is it? We can talk to each other. You know that. I can tell something's been bothering you for awhile."
      "I just... deep fryer." I said, ignoring her question. It was true I'd just found out about the deep fryer a few minutes ago, but it was annoying me.
      "That can't be it. This has been going on for a bit.  A week or two. I didn't buy the fryer until today. Didn't even think about buying it until today."
      "Ice cream maker."
      "Hon, the same goes for it."
      "They're unhealthy They could cause health problems. You know that, right? You know it?"
       "I know they're bad for you, but in limitation and only on special occasions, they're okay."
       "Unhealthy." I said, crossing my arms.
       "Don't talk like a little kid Hazel. We're adults. Tell me what's wrong."

    "Nothing's wrong!" I shouted, waving my arms at her. Something clearly was, I just couldn't admit it. "Nothing is. Just stop pushing me..."
    "Okay. I am your wife, though. If you're no okay,  need to know. I need to help."
    "Why are you handcuffing me to the subject?"
    "Oh, Hazel." She looked at me, a lustful glow in her eyes. "It's been a long time... what? Three weeks? I'd say twenty or more days. We're synced to each other; I know Aunt Flow isn't the one stopping us. We haven't used handcuffs, or even done it, in awhile..."
    "No reason for it, I guess." That wasn't true. There was a reason, a perfectly good one. Rosie and I had a very active bedroom life and it was in a little rut right now, due to certain issues. "Let's go to the dining room. Shouldn't keep the birthday girl waiting."
     "When you're ready, tell me. Please. Don't go through it, whatever it is, alone." She stared into my eyes, confusion and hope and lust and love and mixed together to form an emotion I couldn't name. We casually walked into the dining room, trying to act like a commotion hadn't happened within the kitchen's walls; a mere few steps from our children.
     "Are you ready to eat your cake and blow out the candles?" I asked, as Rosie lit them.

     "Yes! But I don't know what to wish for... since you got me the best camera on the market!" She squealed, pointing to her now unwrapped gift, that was perched upon the glass tabletop.
     "Happy, happy, happy birthday to Basil." We began singing as she began thinking. "Happy, happy, happy, happy. Today is very happy. Do you know why it's happy? Because it's Basil's birthday. Happy, Happy happy, oh a very happy birthday to Basil." We all sang, slightly off pitch.

     "Cake time!" Out blonde fourteen year old exclaimed, looking so grown up. We cut the cake, giving everyone a small slice. "This is fantastic!" She exclaimed, once she took a bite.
     "This is... good." Harbor said.
     "Yeah, what is it, strawberry and vanilla cake with a custard on top?" Wren asked, eying a forkful of the yellow, pink, and white mush.
      "Yes it is. Baked by your mother." Rosie beamed, taking another bite of cake."It's delicious."
      "Thank you, all. I'm glad you like it."
      "Basil, do you want to test out your camera?" Rosie asked.
      "It would be nice... there's the dog show today."
      "Why don't go?"
      "Alright. Thanks." She smiled. "Wren, Harbor, wanna come along? Please. it's my birthday."
      "Why... okay."
      "Sure." Wren shrugged. "Dogs are cute."
      "Perfect!" She slid out of her chair, grabbed her camera, and soon the three bubbling, bouncy big bundles of joy had disappeared, off to go watch a dog show.
      "Rosie, what's going on?"
      "Let's go down to the basement... I want to give you something." She stood up, walking towards the stairs, as I followed suit.

   "Wow." I gasped. She'd redone her tasting area; there was know artwork and a table with fancy metal chairs and an adorable tablecloth. "This looks wonderful, Rosie."
    "Thank you." She said, embracing me. "I was hoping you'd like it.

    "I do. What;s going on?"
    "I want you to talk."
    "I was hoping we'd be doing something different..." I kissed her, as she kissed me back. I felt her hand sliding to the portion of my back the dress didn't cover.
     "We have to talk. I know something's bothering you."
     "Screaming gout your name is talking... the children are gone. I have some new... toys to try out. It would be fun." I began kissing her neck, hoping we could avoid talking. She was right; it had been awhile since we did the deed. Maybe we needed to.
     "Hazel." She moaned, as she pushed me away. "Sit."
     "Sorry... I'm just horny." I muttered, taking a seat.
     "It isn't that." She walked towards the back room, where her wine collection and wine making machinery were stored. She came back with a bottle that gleamed beneath the light. "Here." She gestured for me to take glass, as she filled the others up. She took a seat as well, picking up a glass.

   "Divine wine." I said, as I gulped down the liquid.
   "What's wrong?" She prompted once more.
   "Want me to tell you?"
   "Yes, I do. I want you to tell me because I care."
   "I know you do. It's difficult to talk, though. You know how it can be."
   "Please tell me." She asked, placing her full glass onto the tabletop. She hadn't drank any wine; only I had.
    "I... it happened thirty-five years ago, two days ago."

  "What happened, honey? Please."
  "It-it-t..." I took a deep breath, as a tear slid down my face. "She..."
  "She?" Rosie asked. "Thirty-fi-no. It couldn't... that long? Hazel, I am so sorry." She knew. "You're mother."
   "Uh-huh." I nodded. "Thirty-five years ago she died."
   "What do you want to do? To remember her?"
   "I don't know. I don't know."
   "Here." She stood up, trying to comfort me. "Here, let's go."
   "Where Rosie? What place could possibly be used to celebrate her life and remember her death? I almost lived twice as long as her... I mean, look at me. I'm forty years old and wearing a culturally offensive dress that has large pieces cut out of it."
    "Her grave." She whispered, leading me up the stairs, to the car. My mother died thirty-five years ago. Thirty-five years ago. My father... he was bad. Horrible. And our children didn't get to meet either of them. My mother, who accidentally got pregnant with me. My mother, who was young. My mother, who lied about being married to my father, to help him run for mayor. My mother, who was wonderful. My mother, who watched Marco and I play together as toddlers. My mother, who I could hardly remember. The sites passed by, as the sun sunk away, as the moon rose, replacing it. We finally arrived at the site, the graveyard, as I dried my last tear. More would come, though I knew more would.
   We unbuckled our seat belts, climbed out of the car, and slowly walked towards her grave. She was buried between my grandparents. My father was who knows where. I hadn't buried him. I hadn't attended his funeral. I had been consumed with anger that I had since let go of.

   "I leave you two alone." Rosie whispered, once we'd arrived at the site. She turned, walking towards the statue of the Grim Reaper. I wonder if he actually came for people... I wonder if he came for my mother on purpose or, by the rules of some cruel game fate played, accidentally knocked on the wrong door. Took the wrong soul.
   "Mother." I said, bawling my eyes out. She was here, beneath me. "I'm here. I'm sorry." I stared at her grave, wishing she was next to me instead. "I know I haven't visited often enough. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry." I kept repeating the five letter, two syllable word. Sorry.
   "Rosie, she was just here, she's giving us some privacy... isn't that sweet of her? She knows I have things to say to you. I love you. I'm sorry that you didn't meet someone who was better then daddy. I  don't know the full story; he never told me... I feel bad, though. I don't know, mom. I don't know.
   I suppose you don't know either. I don't know what to believe. Where are you? I know you're right here, your body, but... I don't know. Rosie, I was talking about her, got a little off topic, I love her, too. I married her mom. She's my wife. You have a daughter-in-law. Daddy got mad when I told him I loved girls. I don't think you will. I think you're smiling.
   We have children. Three children. Two girls, one boy. Basil, she's the oldest, she just turned fourteen, in blonde. I don't know where she gets it from. The donor, maybe? Wren, she raven headed, like you and me. You're pretty. Were pretty. I saw pictures... you were so young. Harbor, he's a little absent minded, but so sweet. He has black hair, too. He's nice. I think he would have gotten along with his grandma well. You're a mother-in-law and a grandmother. That's a lot to take in, I know.
   I love you. I know Rosie, even though she's never met you, thinks you're wonderful. I wish you got to meet her and the children. I wish you were here. I wish... I wish for a lot of things. I wish and wish and wish for you, but wishes can't change time. If they could, you'd be next to me and I'd be next to you. I need to go. The kids are probably getting ready for bed and I have to tuck them in. We do that every night. I think you might have... I don't remember. Good night." I turned away, taking a deep breath. I had seen my mother for the first time in forever.

7.11: Picture Taking and Making Up

Basil's Point of View...

    "Hi Wren." I said, walking into our bedroom. "I'm gonna go to the park to take pictures with my camera. Wanna come?" I offered. Mum and Mother had agreed that I was responsible enough to go to the park and take pictures tomorrow; today was tomorrow.
    "I can't." She said, as she put down her dolls. "They grounded me for smashing Harbor's dumb pumpkin after they found out that I was okay. The burn won't even leave a scar."
     "I'm sorry... at least you're okay. The scar thing's good."
     "Yeah, I guess. You're lucky you get to leave our room. I only get to come out for the bathroom and breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
     "Do you get to go trick-or-treating?" Her, Harbor, and I had planned our route. We'd start off around four and go to all the local businesses that handed out candy, then work our way to the rich people houses, then loop back around to the theater where they were showing a Scooby-Doo marathon until ten.
    "If I behave." She sighed, as she picked at a thread that was hanging off of her blue heart pajamas.
    "At least you have a chance of going. I'm gonna go ask Harbor if he wants to go, okay?"
    "Can we talk more? It's boring up here. "
    "I wanna go take pictures. The rain just stopped and it's suppose to start again soon; I need to get to the park before it does."
     "Okay... I hate getting into trouble." I turned and began walking down the stairs, to the living room. Harbor was sitting on the sofa, watching a cartoon that had a giant talking cow.

   "Hey Harbor-"
   "Shh! Mr. Moo is on! And I can't see the TV."
   "Sorry." I whispered, taking a seat next to him. I stared at the television, as I felt my brain begin to melt. Mr. Moo, the skateboarding cow who lived on a farm, kept doing silly stuff that caused the farmer to get mad, then the other farm animals would fix it, and Mr. Moo would learn that friends fix your problems for you.
   "What were you saying?" He turned to ask me, after the cartoon was over.

   "I'm going to go to the park to take pictures, do you want go with me? We're gonna have a lotta fun."
   "Nah. That episode's got two parts! The second one comes on soon and I wanna see it."
   "You sure?"
   "Uh huh. Ask mum or mother."
   "Mum's busy making stuff in the basement and mother's got to work on her science project."
   "Oh. Too bad. Shh! Look, it's back on." He said, turning his attention towards the shiny screen. I stood up, and walked to the door, hoping the rain wouldn't begin again. I saw a giant puddle on the street.  Hmm... That would be fun. Jumping in it without anyone pushing me out of the way... An overwhelming sense of immaturity overcame me, and I took off running towards the giant puddle. I took a leap and SPLASH! My rain boots hit the ground, as water covered me.

   I giggled as I kicked the water, my shirt and shorts quickly became soaked. That was fun. Good thing I left my camera in my bike's basket, though. It would of been ruined by the water. I ran to the sidewalk where my bike was resting and stood it up. I hopped on and began peddling to the park.

Wren's Point of View...

   Harbor was sitting on the floor, in his T-Rex pajamas, playing with a teddy bear. A teddy bear. The same exact teddy bear that he was given at the hospital when he was born. I sighed deeply; I hadn't knocked or said hello, this was my way of getting his attention. He didn't look up.
    "Hey, T-Bear boy." I said, rolling my eyes. If T-Bear boy wasn't a good insult, what was?
    "Oh. Hi Wren."
    "Feeling upset?"
    "No."
    "Why?"
    "I got my bear."
    "I know T-Bear boy."
    "Did mummy and mother ungrounded you?"
    "Ungrounded me? Pfht. No."
    "How can you be out of your room then?"
    "...I walked."
    "But mummy and mother said you couldn't."
    "I ignored them."
    "You WHAT!? How?"
    "By walking out of my room." I said, even though if felt like I'd explained this a hundred times to him already. "Look, I just wanna say that I wanna go trick-or-treating."
    "What's....why?" He asked, staring up at me.
    "Free candy and ghost  movies. It'll be fun."
    "You're grounded."
    "I know."
    "But...but, grounded people can't go." He said, standing up.

   "Look... I guess I shouldn't  have smashed your pumpkin. I just felt... look, I didn't like it."
   "Why?"
   "Could ya stop asking why!"
   "Huh? But... why?"
   "Look, I feel stupid that I caught on fire and stuff and I know what I did was bad. But... I felt like..." I took a deep breath and mumbled the last part of my sentence maybetheywouldthinkIwassuper-supercoolorsomething."
    "Huh?"
    "I didn't like your pumpkin and it seemed cool to smash yours... So, my problem  was solved and I looked cool... until I caught on fire. I'm trying to apologize, so like, tell mum and mother so I can go trick-or-treating."
     "What am I suppose to do?"
     "Tell. Mother. And. Mum. PLEASE!"
     "Since you said please." Then he sat back down on the floor, to begin playing with his bear again.
     "Thanks T-Bear boy." I said, as I walked back to my room. Harbor was nice, he really was. He was just... sometimes he didn't pick up on things.


NOTE: Since I was writing from Basil's and Wren's point of view, I tried making the chapter sound more simplistic and childish; the next chapter will have my more "normal" style of writing. ☺   Also, Blogger was glitching like crazy, not letting me save, inserting giant spaces between lines, etc. so that's why this chapter wasn't published sooner.

7.10: Jack-O-Lanterns

   "What are you going to carve?" I asked Wren, who was sitting in her cute little jeans, white lacy tank top, and bouncy little pigtails. Don't get me wrong, I love all my children equally, but their was something about getting to pick out girl's clothing that melted my heart; everything was so cute.
   "A pumpkin. Duh." She said, as she rolled her eyes at my question. I sighed, not wanting to have to tell my ten year old daughter to be nicer and not have an attitude. I had grown the pumpkins myself and Rosie and bought all the carving material; after they got home from school we'd surprised them with do it yourself jack-o-lanterns. They were perfect for Halloween this coming Monday.
   "Alright." I said, forcing a smile. "I'm excited to see how it'll turn out."
   "Like a pumpkin. Why don't you go carve one, stop the dumb questions, and leave me alone? Seriously."
   "Wren!" Rosie exclaimed. "Don't talk to your mother like that."
   "The weekend begins tomorrow; you don't want to be ground Saturday and Sunday, do you?"
   "Ugh, no."
   "What else?" Rosie prompted.
   "Like, I don't know. Sorry?"
   "It works." I sighed, picking up my pumpkin to carve. I didn't want to punish her and end up causing a commotion for Basil and Harbor; it was their Halloween fun too, and, for the good of the team, Wren was going to enjoy the festivities and continue pumpkin carving.
   "Why are you in the bushes, Harbor?" Rosie asked. "You can come join us; there's plenty of space."
   "I don't want anyone to see what I carve and copy me. Can I stay here?"
   "Sure." We both said in unison.

   "How about I bring my pumpkin to that side of the fence to carve? I promise I won't look at your design." I asked, as Rosie held the gate open for me. I stepped through, holding a nicely sized
pumpkin that was ready for me to carve.
    "Promise?"
    "I do. And you don't break promises." I laid down some newspaper and gently placed my nice orange homegrown sphere of pumpkin-ness on top.  I began removing the top and scooping out the seeds and insides.
     "Basil, your pumpkin's right here." Rosie pointed towards a pumpkin. "Wanna carve it with us?"

     "No thanks." Our blonde twelve year old smiled. "I went on a field trip to the art museum and the teachers bought us these nice little disposable cameras. Is it okay if I just take pictures, since I have some film left? I like your pumpkin, though, it's a kitty cat."
     "Would you like to take a picture of it?"
     "Please." She held up her blue and yellow drugstore camera and snapped a picture. "It looks nice! Thank you, mum."
      "You're welcome, honey."
      "Look at mine." Wren ordered. She'd finished carving and done what appeared to be a face, but some of the pumpkin ended up crumbling off, so there were extra holes.
      "Creative." I said, picking up my pumpkin. I'd done an ordinary, classic jack-o-lantern. Two triangle eyes, a triangle nose, and a smiling mouth.
      "It's very nice." Rosie said, as Wren glanced at Basil for a compliment.
      "Wanna take my picture?"
      "I can only take four more pictures before I run out of film, sorry." She shrugged, showing Wren the little number of the camera that told you how many more pictures you could take.
       "Here's my pumpkin!" Harbor exclaimed, carrying his over to the walkway. It was another creative design, similar to Wren's.

    "Interesting." I said, as Rosie nodded in agreement.I placed a small candle in each of the pumpkins, then turned towards Harbor, who was poking Rosie and I.
     "Mother, mum, thank you." He smiled. Harbor was, to quote his teachers, a little absentminded, but still the sweetest child you could ever meet. He may not be a straight A student, who was passionate about art, like Basil, or a fiercely independent person who stood up for what they believed in like Wren, but he loved swimming in the pool on weekends and was kind to everyone; that's what mattered.
     "HE COPIED ME!" I heard Wren shout. She was a temperamental child; nothing was medically wrong with her, she had no disorder, she just could become upset at small details.
    "Honey, it's okay." Rosie said. "Both your pumpkins are wonderfully creative and interesting. We'll display them for the trick-or-treaters to see, proudly."

    "No." She huffed, raising her foot. I turned to face her, all of shouting no, as she brought her foot down to the pumpkin. Harbor's hard worked crumbled, from the top down. With a satisfied smirk and a kick of the destroyed pumpkin, she turned towards us and shrugged, as if to say 'What? Did I do something wrong?'.
    "My pumpkin..." Harbor said, as his eyes began tearing up. "I worked so hard on it...why?"
    "It was stupid." Wren shrugged. "Anyone else feel really hot?"
    "Wren! Oh sweetie. Rosie, get the fire extinguisher." Rosie nodded, as she dashed towards the house. "You're on fire!"

     "Oh my gawd! I am! EEK!" Sh screamed, hopping up and down. I suppose you can't smash a pumpkin that has a real candle inside it without some consequences. Basil began screaming, as Harbor, scared at the sight of his twin sister caught in flames, began crying. I tried to keep from panicking; my baby girl was aflame! This was horrible!
     "Here." Rosie said, panting. She'd gotten inside, picked up the fire extinguisher we kept under the kitchen sink, and rushed back all in three seconds flat. I grabbed it out of her hands, as she hugged Harbor.

  The white foamy fire putting out stuff shot out of the canister, as I sprayed Wren with it. I had followed the directions to a T, yet the flames weren't ending. They'd not reached her torso or head yet; that was good. I just needed to stay calm and collected, as Rosie hugged Basil and harbor, urging them to turn away.

    I kept trying to stop the flames, until they did. Her skin and clothes were charred, yet the flames were gone. She was saved; she was no longer ablaze. My baby girl was okay. I sighed a big sigh of relief. My heart had almost stopped in those short moments.

   "Ugh! I'm all ash covered and smell like soot." She said, looking at her charred body. I looked at Rosie, who, like me, was surprised that the first comment out of her mouth wasn't relief, but a complaint. A tiger never changes her stripes, even if the flames were a sign.
    "Ar-r-re you ok-kay?" Harbor stuttered, wiping away his frightened tears.
    "Do I look okay? I smashed your dumb copycat pumpkin and it caught me on fire! Fire, Harbor. What do you think?"
    "No?"
    "Congratulations, you just won a billionaire dollars, captain obvious. You had a fifty-fifty shot of guessing correctly and you did. Wow, such brilliance." She rolled her eyes again as I felt the urge to say some particularly unpleasant things to her. Our daughter was not raised like this; we'd thought every single one of our children respect and kindness.
    "Harbor." Rosie gently said to our little boy who had been reduced to tears once more. "Why don't you get ready for bed?"
    "Okay mum." He said.
    "I love you Harbor." I said.
     "I love you, too." Rosie smiled. It was a routine we had. I'd say I love you,then Rosie would say it. Then, together we'd say:
    "We both love you."
    "I love you too!" Harbor said, scampering off to his room. 
    "Basil, why don't you get ready, too?" I suggested. We needed to have a little chatwith Wren, without any siblings around.
    "Alright." She smiled, following Harbor to the indoors.

    "We're glad you're okay." Rosie said, once bother of the other children were inside.
    "We are." I said, as I hugged her, then Rosie did. "And we're taking you to the hospital to see a doctor, in a few minutes."
     "Why did you do it?" Rosie asked.
     "His pumpkin was stupid and he copied me."
     "Honey, you don't smash pumpkins because of that."
     "I can't help it. Besides, Basil wouldn't take my picture. She took my picture when I was on fire."
     "You wanted attention?"
     "I dunno." She shrugged, glancing at her feet. "Maybe."
     "Well, we need to get you to the doctor, quickly." Rosie said. "I'll drive her."
     "Should I stay with the kids?" I asked. "They might need to chat a little."
     "I'm okay with it." Wren shrugged.
     "It's would be a good idea." Rosie agreed. They began walking towards the car, as I went inside.I opened the front door, walked though the kitchen, and up the stairs to Hazel and Wren's room. They shared a cute pink room and had bunk beds.

      "Hi, Basil." I said, smiling. "You alright?"
      "I'm good... is Wren okay?" she sat on her bed, glancing up at my hopefully.
      "She is. Mum's taking her to the doctor just to make sure. Don't worry, though. We're going to make sure she is."
      "Okay...I like photographing. When can we go and develop the pictures?"
      "How about tomorrow? It's Saturday and we don't have anything going on. Or, you could always ride your bike to the store. I'll give you some money."
      "Really?!"
      "Of course. You're old enough."
      "I do have two more pictures to take... the drugstore's right by the park."
      "Perfect! You can go tomorrow." I smiled, glad she had found something she likes doing. "Goodnight." I said, turning to turn off the light.

      "Goodnight, mother." And with that, I turned out the light and went to Harbor's room. I hoped Wren recovered quickly and was soon as active and content as Basil.