Hello people! I hope you are all having a lovely morning / afternoon / evening... as I promised, I'm back with another of my close friend, Eden Hawthorne's stories! If you didn't see the last post, make sure to go read that, then pop on over here again to read another of her works!
I hope you enjoy it friends!
"Risky Rebellion"
It was an evident fact that cricket was for the young men, and tea was for the young ladies. Ladies did not play sports; that would be scandalous. Yet, that was exactly what Rosanne Bannerman was trying to do.
“You will thank me later,” she whispered to her best friend Beatrice as she led her discreetly by the arm away from the spot on the lawn where Patricia Evans and the other young ladies sat.
“I know you are just as bored of afternoon tea as I am.”
Beatrice’s brown eyes widened momentarily before her brow contorted into a suspicious frown. “What do you mean for us to do?” Rosanne sighed.
Beatrice never used to hesitate whenever she had a naughty scheme for the two of them in mind. She waited until they were in the garden before saying more.
“Oh please, Beatrice,” she replied. “As if you didn’t know.”
“You cannot mean—”
“Yes, I do.” Rosanne’s eyes twinkled. “Edward informed me that they were indeed playing in the Evans’s pasture today.”
Beatrice ran to catch up to Rosanne, who had stridden confidently ahead. The sweltering summer sun was causing them both to sweat.
“Your parents forbade you from playing cricket with the boys!” exclaimed Beatrice, exasperated. “Besides, this heat is abominable.”
As if acknowledging her partner’s claim, Rosanne wiped her hand across her wet temple, plastering her honey-blonde curls to her face.
“My parents shan’t find out,” she said at last.
“I don’t understand,” Beatrice complained. “The boys will tell them. Especially your brother. As soon as Edward sees you trying to play with them, he will tell your mother.”
Rosanne sat down on the white weather-worn bench next to the hydrangea bushes and stared hard at Beatrice. “You’ll want to take off your high-boots and bonnet,” she said. “They’ll only hinder you when you run.”
Frowning, Beatrice shook her head. “No, Rosanne. What about the boys?”
Rosanne smiled. “You’ll convince them with your charm and beauty.”
“You mean use my gift!” Beatrice gasped. She looked around hastily, then lowered her voice. “We’ll be punished. Neither of us are of age to use them.”
For a moment, Rosanne hesitated. She knew the regulations about the use of gifts, and the punishment that usually followed. Whether or not it was worth the risk, was what she had to decide. She had used her own gift before. At the age of five, she discovered she had the ability to control plants and nature. After that, she once used it to cause a swarm of bees to sting her brother mercilessly after he had bullied her. She never forgot how infuriated and shocked her family and friends were because of it. She had spent the month in her bedroom, forbidden from playing with other children. At the age of 21, everyone was allowed to use their individual gifts for the betterment of society. Considering that both Rosanne and Beatrice were only 16, they had a long time to wait until they could use it without any reproach. Still, Rosanne couldn’t help but think that there was no harm in using it to play a little game. Beatrice’s gift could elicit trust and compliance from others towards her; no one would even find out she used it.
“I won’t use mine,” whispered Rosanne. “None of the boys will know you used your gift on them.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you even hear what you are saying,” Beatrice replied.
Rosanne could tell she was already winning Beatrice over. She knew that manipulating the boys had caught her friend’s interest.
She pressed on. “You’re great at cricket, Beatrice. Both of our brothers have shown us how to play, and I must say we’ve got skill.”
Beatrice was still silent.
“Come. If we run fast enough, we can still catch them before they start their first game,” said Rosanne.
Throwing off their bonnets and shoes, they ran through the garden towards the field. The hot sun beat down harder and by the time they reached the young men, they were panting harder than a hound after a hunt. Beatrice’s older brother Peter was the first one to catch sight of them, and he raised his eyebrows at them. Setting aside their balls and paddles, the boys approached the girls with amusement.
“What in heavens are you two doing here?” Peter asked with a laugh in his voice.
Rosanne tried to feign nonchalance. She could see her brother frowning at her out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, just taking a walk.”
“On a scorching day like this?” Edward asked, clearly suspicious.
Beatrice paled despite the heat and Rosanne cleared her throat to hint that it was time for her to use her gift. Beatrice nodded slightly and swayed for a moment.
“We were awfully bored and tired, and we thought that all of you might let us play at least one game of cricket with you,” she said, with a sweet smile.
The boys glanced at each other and shrugged.
“I don’t know,” a lad named John voiced hesitantly. “Girls don’t play sports.”
Beatrice just brushed her brown curls out of her eyes and gave a whimsical laugh. “But we can! Just ask Peter. He taught me all the rules.”
Peter nodded. “She’s not wrong about that. Her aim is terrific too.”
Rosanne could hardly contain her excitement. Her plan was working.
Before long, Rosanne and Beatrice were out in the field hitting cricket balls with just as much enthusiasm as the men. Neither of them even noticed how hot or tired they were and just kept on playing. Then an awful twist happened. In the middle of the game, Rosanne was resting for a moment, when John Carpenter’s turn to bat at the ball came. He had played cricket a hundred times, and when he drew his long arms back to swing, Rosanne had no idea what was about to become of her. Faster than light, the ball flew towards him. In one swift stroke, he hit it. The next thing Rosanne knew, she was on her knees clutching her eye. There was a dull throbbing, and she could feel a hard knot swelling up beneath her fingers. Voices called to her, and hands grabbed her, but she couldn’t respond. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and shock had momentarily paralyzed her. She could hear Beatrice crying and Edward asking her questions. When she could speak, she simply asked for her parents. She didn’t remember much of the walk back to the house, but she remembered clutching her right eye, which was now aching terribly and gushing a waterfall of tears. She had no idea what she would say to her parents; she had no idea what they would do to her. The only thing she could think about was the look they would have on their faces when they would find out she had disobeyed.
Not surprisingly, her mother was in hysterics at the sight of her. Her father, however, just smiled as if amused and asked her to meet him in his study. Standing in front of his desk, whatever remained of her rebellion drained out of her, and she was left feeling guilty and small. Her father looked at her over the tops of his eyeglasses.
“I suppose you know you’ve acted shamefully,” he coughed, eyebrows twitching.
Rosanne winced. “Yes, Papa.”
“I must say, I thought your mother’s reaction was bad, but when I heard the scolding Beatrice got from her own parents, it looks mild in comparison.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she struggled to swallow. Her faced burned hot with shame. The realization that the consequences of her actions extended further than just her own humiliation and pain was too much too bear. If only she hadn’t acted so foolishly!
She looked up to find her father watching her intently.
“I’m sure you will never do that again,” he said in a low voice.
“No! Never, Papa,” she exclaimed, blinking away hot tears. She couldn’t imagine ever trying anything like this again.
Her father nodded, satisfied, then said half to himself, “I think that eye is punishment enough.”
Still ashamed, Rosanne left. When she looked in the mirror, she realized exactly what her father had meant. She saw the puffy black and blue mess around her bloodshot eye and thought she had never looked uglier in her life.
THE END
About the Writer
Hello, there. For those of you that were wondering, I am an aspiring artist and writer that hopes to possibly do something with her work someday. I enjoy spending time outside on summer days swimming, hiking, camping, having cookouts, you name it, as long as it’s with friends or family. 😉 I love to read books, play violin, ambush my little brothers, put together jigsaw puzzles, watch movies with friends, and try new things. If you like The Lord of The Rings, then we can be good friends. 😁 { Eden Hawthorne }
Thanks once again Eden for being open to sharing your work with us! :)
Now its your turn! Which story did you enjoy most? "Risky Rebellion" or "The Old America"? Share in the comments below!
I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day! Au revoir!
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