Kay's Story pt 3 - The Mysterious Parcel

By now the sun was sinking below the horizon, the squirrels had begun to feel sleepy, and the frogs were singing with conviction.  The twilight air was growing rich with the fragrance of coming rain.  Elianna looked up to see the approaching figure of a man with something in his hand.  As he drew nearer she recognized the uniform he wore.  He was short, with light hair and uneven, but jovial features.  She called out a friendly hello.  The two embraced as the man responded warmly, smiling enthusiastically.  He bobbed on his toes with excitement. 

            “I knew I might find you here,” he said.  Elianna laughed—a laugh that sounded like someone celebrating the first rose they had ever seen.  The melody of it seemed to make the forest younger. 

            “Why is that so funny?”

            “Oh no.  Forgive me!  Nothing at all.  No, I was so surprised to see you, and I thought of how funny it was—never mind.  I’m so glad to see you, George!  Really.  That’s part of why I couldn’t help laughing—the joy.  How are you?”

            “Well I’m right as rain.  It’s jolly to see you too!  I reckon I aint seen you in two years.  I only got back yesterday, and I barely had me a bite before ma was sendin’ me on errands.  She said this package needed to get to ya as soon as I could find my boots.”

            He held out a brown parcel.  It had no writing on it save the name “Elianna M. Key.”  The handwriting was one that she did not recognize, and seemed to be scratched on by a feminine hand in a hurry.  George looked at Elianna’s puzzled expression.

            “I’ll reckon you wonder who’s it from.  I’ll tell you: Sylvia’s the one who had it brought to you by her brother who was comin’ over here to see a girl he met on the Continent.  He’s so lovestruck it’s a certain miracle he didn’t lose it on the way.

            “Well, say, aren’t ya gonna open it?  I’m almost as curious as you must be to see what she thought was so important to send you across the Atlantic.  You remember Sylvia, right?  You know, Sylvia—the only girl that ever…”

            “I know who Sylvia is,” said Elianna softly, meditatively.  The look of reliving many old memories was in her eyes.  George admired those eyes as he peered at her.  It was like breathing in the crisp air after snowfall—through your eyes.

            Elianna finally sat down and began to unwrap the contents on her lap, slowly, cautiously, as if she half expected the devil himself to come flying out of that paper.  Instead she removed a leather bound book, showing signs of years of use and wear.  A letter in that same feminine cursive accompanied it.  By now it had grown too dark to read with ease.  George had already anticipated this and had produced a box of matches he used for smoking from his coat pocket, and was lighting a makeshift torch from a dead branch.  He huddled up close to Elianna, who barely noticed, holding the light for both of them to read.

            “Dear Elianna,” it began, “I hope this letter finds you and your family healthy and well as can be, considering the circumstances.  I do not suppose you ever expected to receive a letter from me and I can’t imagine that you are happy about the fact.  Nevertheless I write from burdened constraint.  Please hear me with patience, Elianna, and consider my offer carefully, from all sides.  If, by God’s grace, you are open enough to truly consider what I put forward, I think you will see that I have your best interest, and that of your family in mind.”

            “Why, you’d think you was as prickly as a porcupine the way she’s walkin’ on eggshells there, Lianna.  What on earth does she want from you?” George cut in, jabbing Elianna’s slight frame in jest. 

            Elianna blew out a slow breath, not taking her eyes from the paper.  “I haven’t the faintest clue, George, but I don’t like the sound of it.”

            She read on.  “You will remember from when you were here that my mother was not the strongest in health.  In the few years since, she has only steadily declined to the point of being completely bedridden.  Being so weak, I must care for her constantly, which is no easy task in my predicament you can imagine.  With Father minding business and Eric in the war, we have no one to care for and educate my two youngest siblings, Burt and Corliss.

            “It is here that you come in, Elianna, for I know you were a diligent student in your school years, and though we certainly didn’t converse much during our journey across the Atlantic or during your time here, it was plain to me that you found Scotland to your liking.”

            “What’s she want you to do, eh Lianna?  Be school marm to Burt and Corliss—what kind of high-falutin’ name is that anyway?”  George guffawed, balking at any mention of possibility of Elianna going so far away, especially when he’d just returned! 

            “Hush, George, let me finish it,” Elianna spoke softly, looking out over the rich blue of the water as she thought. 

            “Well, aren’t you gonna keep reading it then?”

            Elianna returned her gaze to the paper and George angled the torch to the letter again so they could see.