Sunday, October 2, 2016
1st 5 Pages October Workshop - Bynum
Name: Karen Y. Bynum
Genre: Young Adult (high fantasy)
Title: THE LUCK EXCHANGE
When elves die by sword or sorrow,
Owls make certain they see tomorrow.
Their souls are planted and reborn.
With pasts erased, they do not mourn.
But compassion fades and hearts harden
As rumors take root and poison the Garden.
Earthworms of anxiety knotted in Madelece’s belly. How was she going to ask her mother permission to do the sleep study? She took a deep breath, got out of her canoe, and pulled it onto the sand. She scanned the plain oak canoes anchored to the shore by Luck, until she spotted her mother’s, smooth and tan with the faint black stripes of orca wood.
She turned back to her canoe. “Madelece says, Stay.” Her voice was strong and sure. She reached down and gave the boat a small test push, and it scooted back into the water. Jinx! Thank the Owls no one was around to see her failure. She quickly grabbed the edge before it floated away. Her maple tea was in there—and she would need every drop of sugary goodness to get her through this—along with the cloak her papa had made for her.
Father, she reminded herself. Not Papa. Mother liked her to call him Father.
She lived with her mother, except for the summer solstice. During the time apart from her father, they exchanged weekly scrolls by pigeon. Still, it wasn’t the same. Not seeing him every day was always hard, but even harder after weeks of Papa-time.
After she found the in-case-of-no-Luck rope she kept hidden under the seat, she tied it to a nearby tree, securing her canoe. She shivered and let down her thick, copper-colored hair so it fell over her shoulders—it was cooler in the Valley than where her papa lived at the Beach, but she wouldn’t wear her cloak. Not now. Not around her mother.
Madelece gathered her satchel and took a long drink of her maple tea. Okay. She could do this. She pushed a low branch out of her way, and it swatted her bare legs as she passed.
The path snaked through the woods. Early morning sunlight dusted the forest floor. Familiar raven ca-caws echoed around her, and rabbits scurried into their burrows as she walked by. Despite this, and the closeness of hundreds of trees, the woods felt empty.
Eventually, the trees began to thin out when she neared the clearing. At the edge of the open field were three giant pine trees. The one in the middle was perfect for climbing because of its evenly spaced branches, but the one on the end was perfect for hiding things.
After a quick glance around, she ducked under the foliage. She pulled open the drawstrings of her satchel, got out the cloak, and hung it over the highest branch she could reach.
When she stepped out of the forest, she practically walked into a wall of flowery perfume. The too-sweet smell of roses stuck to the inside of her nose, like snot she couldn’t sneeze out.
To her right was the pumpkin patch full of orange, Luckfull pumpkins. From here, she couldn’t tell if there were any silver ones, but there were almost always Luckless hatchlings. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be many this Harvest. The afterlife wasn’t exactly easy on the Luckless, and even harder on the Forgotten. But, they wouldn’t know if there were any Forgotten until the hatchlings were ready for Delivery. Then, the Storks would either deliver them, or not.
On the other hand, she’d find out how many Luckless pumpkins there were either later today or tomorrow when the Harvest began. She’d taken part in the Harvest since she was five, so this would be her seventh year.
Directly in front of her stood Mother’s small stone cottage, surrounded by blue rose bushes. One of the few frivolous things Delora had used her Luck to splurge on.
The earthworms in her belly tightened as she gripped her satchel and walked around the side of the cottage to the front door. In the distance, golden rays peeked over the mountain top. The dirt road in front of the cottage was busy with villagers going into town, and gardeners heading to the Garden.
Madelece wanted to slip inside unnoticed and have another cup of maple tea before beginning the day. It’d been an early start this morning, leaving Father’s house and then fighting the can-never-make-up-its-mind-which-way-to-flow river.
She raced up the stairs and reached for the door, just as it swung open. Jinx. Mother’s booming voice made her jump, and the last sip of her maple tea sloshed out of her travel mug.
“Ma-da-lease!” she called. “Sweet girl. You’ve returned!” The tall woman pulled Madelece into her bony embrace. “How are you, my love? Did you have a smooth journey? From your last pigeon, I expected you home later this evening.” She continued without actually pausing long enough for a reply.
Madelece’s cheeks grew warmer as she caught glimpses of villagers gawking at the reunion. Great. Just what she wanted.
Mother finally loosened her hold and took in the sight of her daughter. Madelece fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. It wasn’t quite as loose as it had been a month ago. “My goodness, dear girl, your father certainly fed you well.” Delora released Madelece completely and smiled sweetly to someone on the road. She waved. “Good morning, Otto.”
“Good morning, Mistress Gardener,” he replied.
“My daughter has returned! I’ve missed her so. I may be in late this morning.”
Her mother always made it sound like Madelece had run away from home. She started to say she was fine and for Mother to go to work whenever she needed, but Otto replied with, “Take your time. Offspring are a blessing from the Owls.”
“That they are.” Her mother turned back to Madelece and herded her toward the door. “I’m sure you’re starving, Maddy.” Once inside, she gestured toward the kitchen. “Delora says, Prepare a breakfast feast,” she announced as they walked into the den.
It was a cozy room with a fireplace, a bookcase built into the back wall between two windows, a small couch, and two fluffy chairs. Everything neatly in its spot. Immaculate. Just like her mother. They passed through an archway into the kitchen and sunroom where pots and pans clanked out of the cupboards and eggs floated from the icebox, along with boar slices.
“That’s all right, Mother. We can just go to the Gar—”
“Nonsense, dear girl. You need to eat. I wouldn’t want your father telling people I don’t feed you.” She smiled and smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her apron before taking Madelece’s satchel and unloading each item onto the oversized dining table. It barely fit in the sunroom, but after Madelece’s parents parted ways, Delora had insisted on keeping it. Didn’t make sense to Madelece—the table had been in Crale’s family for centuries—but she liked having something of her papa’s close by.
“I’ll wash and press your clothes later. I don’t have the time right now.”
Madelece had hoped her mother would notice how wrinkle-free and orderly they were—arranged by color and thickness—because she’d used Luck. And it had worked so beautifully she’d just known her mother would be proud.
Madelece’s shoulders dropped. “Thank you, Mother.”
Delora left the now-rumpled stack of clothes on the table. “Well, dear girl, the Garden needs me! I’ll see you after you’ve finished all your breakfast.”