Chris A New Beginning

A continuing story of an imaginative girl.

Chris

Starting Over

Standing in a dark corner of a church, Chris looked solemnly as her heart broke.

Reverend O'Riley glanced up at the wedding guests and pronounced the young couple, “Man and Wife.”

Before the final words left his mouth, Chris turned slowly and walked away, tears streaming down her face.

No one in the church noticed.

Today was supposed to be her day.

It wasn’t her fault about the circumstances.

That alone was something beyond her control.

It was the odd turn of circumstances that had taken Mathew from her.

Fate, that dark, misguided, untimely, and uncertain entity had betrayed her, once and for all.

She had tried to reconnect the missing pieces, really she did, but the series of untimely, and unfortunate events stole what she thought was hers.

The sudden disappearance of flight 743 changed everything.

If the plane's captain had not intervened on her behalf, her time on this planet could have ended just then.

This mild mannered man guided the great plane straight downward into a watery grave.

The whys and wherefores were never discovered.

But in the end, it seemed, and above all else, he was responsible for saving her life.

During those final seconds he threw his own body between her and the plane's windshield.

Of all the vile things he was guilty of, in the end, he died a valiant death; of sorts.

And because of his final act, she stood alone, without purpose.

“Where,” she wondered pensively, “will fate take me now?”

Though she questioned her future, she knew exactly where she was destined.

She had vowed never to visit this place without Mathew.

But the past was the past and forever changed.

There was nothing holding her back, not even that vow she had taken so many years ago.

She would go to Green Gables and put to rest yet another sad chapter of her pitiful life.

She knew time would eventually take care of the rest.

She stood in Anne’s bedroom peering out a window that, not less than a year ago, a girl had fallen.

Above the window was a large sign written in large, black, bold letters, upon a background of pure white, that read,

“Keep All Windows Closed.”

It was an eerie vision, like a ghastly apparition.

A guardsman stood nearby to make sure THE RULES would be followed.

Chris turned with hands on hips, full of curiosity, asking,

“Why, for heaven’s sake, would they put up such a silly sign?

It most certainly does set a most darkened mood, to be sure.”

The guardsman, standing more like a statue than a living being, went through the task of explaining the incident of a girl falling and breaking her arm.

“We’ve not allowed the windows to be opened since.”

He was a stiff collard fellow, but very dignified.

“Well sir,” she said, standing tall and defiant, “I would never fall.

Should I fall, however, I would see to it that I floated ever so gently, much like a giant butterfly, at least, that’s what I imagine I would do.

Most likely, however, I’d hit the ground with a most horrendous thud.

Wouldn't it be such a lovely place to meet ones end? I think it would.”

The guardsman stood stoically, arms crossed, eyes fixed. He glared at visitors entering the room.

After a time he replied,

“Most likely Ma’am you’d land on the bushes below and suffer only minor injury.”

“Oh no sir,” she argued, “how wrong you are.

If only you knew the tragical tale of my tormented life you would know that I most likely would find the hardest, most cruel spot, and land on it, killing me in a moment’s time.”

Her tone changed as she began to speak slowly, in a most dramatic fashion,

“There I’d lie for all to see, sprawled like a broken rag doll. It would serve as a fine notice to those who were only slightly thinking about breaking the rules.”

Returning to her usual exuberant self, she commented,

“My grandma used to tell me all the time that rules are made for a reason. I don’t always understand why, but try breaking one of them sometime. Just as surely as one does, a most horrible consequence generally follows. But not always though,”

She continued slowly.

“I’ve heard about people who break rules all the time and never pay a price for their actions.

I’ve never understood that part.

It must be God’s way of allowing them to turn their lives about and change their ways, or maybe,” she said as she stopped to scratch her head, “He’s allowing them to go just so far before he passes final judgment and hands them their just reward.

I assure you sir, it won’t be a pretty thing to see all those rule breakers getting their just reward.

I suppose the girl who fell from the window discovered at least one rule she couldn’t break, the rule of gravity. That one seems to get you every time, although I think it's more of a law than a rule.”

The guardsman stood regally trying hard not to react to the girl’s rambling commentary, but off in the far reaches of his lips a smile began to creep across his face, but only slightly.

Evidence proved he had taken keenly to his training for his duty as guardsman.

“Ma’am,” he said in a deep, monotone voice, “you’ll have to be moving along now.”

“But sir,” she pleaded, “I haven’t seen all there is to see yet. I haven’t allowed my imagination to immerse itself into all there is to immerse. It would be a horrible tragedy not to take in all there is to take, wouldn’t you agree, oh surely you must.”

“Just a few more moments then Ma’am,” replied the guardsman, “and then you must immerse yourself someplace else.”

“Oh thank you sir,” she said as she darted from corner to corner.

She collected as many memories as her eyes would allow.

“I knew you to be a kind man when I first walked into the room and saw you standing there. You look just like one of those guardsmen at the Queens palace; only, they’re not allowed to speak a word all day long. I can only assume they are not allowed to even imagine the thought of talking. Think what it might be like, not to even be allowed to imagine talking? But then...well, just think what it would be like if they were allowed to sit about all day long and chitchat, just as though they were at a royal tea party. Why, nothing good would ever be accomplished. It would be uttermost chaos. But still, one can’t possibly imagine what it must be like to stand still without so much as batting ones eye. It must be a terribly burdensome duty to endure.”

“Ma’am,” responded the guardsman, “Are you done immersing? You’re holding up the other visitors.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

At just that moment her eyes set upon a pearl handled brush with a beautiful red rose sculpted on the backside. It was a thing of true magnificence. Chris could not resist the temptation to pick it up, even though there was a large sign telling her not to.

“Oh sir, she exclaimed. “What is this thing that brings such unimaginable joy into my heart? I know it’s a brush; but does it have a particular name? It should.

I think, by all rights, it should be called the Rose Brush of Anne. That’s what it should be called, don’t you think so?”

“Ma’am,” ordered the guardsman harshly. “Put that down immediately. Visitors are not to touch any items found in this house. They are very old and very valuable.

Do I need to call the house police?”

“Oh no sir,” Chris cried, pleading her case. “I know I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have picked it up, but I was so overwhelmed by its attraction that I could not help myself.”

She walked close to the guardsman and said in all sincerity,

“Sir,” she explained, “Anne and I are kindred spirits of the highest order. Picking up that brush would be the same as if Anne had picked it up herself. There was no actual harm done, and I won’t do it again, if only you promise you won’t call the police.”

The guardsman looked at her and smiled, “I promise not to call the police if you promise to leave.”

“I promise,” Chris replied with a smile of her own.

She slowly turned and reluctantly walked out of Anne’s room.

She turned back momentarily and bid a final farewell,

“Good bye Anne’s Room. I will always remember you in my heart as a place where I have always longed to be.”

Chris spent the rest of the morning retracing the footsteps of Anne, which included Lover’s Lane, the Haunted Forest, and the childhood home of Lucy Maude Montgomery, which had burned long ago. All that was left was a large hole in the ground where the basement would have been.

It was easy to see why *Lucy loved this place so much, that is, before it burned away.

Within its perimeters were cherry blossom trees filled with cherry blossoms that emitted the sweet smell.

And then there were the rose bushes entangled around a white picket fence.

Chris always believed there was nothing more wonderful than the fragrance of fresh roses.

Robins scurried busily, preparing spring nests. The world was alive and awake. Winter had been long and harsh.

Chris looked about, her world had awakened too.

She was alone and sad.

 She whispered to herself, 

“I shall die a lonely old maid never to know love again. I shall perish from this planet leaving no trace that I ever existed at all. Oh what a dreadful thought; to be forgotten and never remembered.”

  * Lucy is Lucy Maud Montgomery who authored the book Anne of Green Gables.

End of Part One

Author's Note

Story of a talkative young lady.

Reviews

[Andrew Golding]

A great piece of fan fiction, or fiction from a fan of Anne (with an E). I think you captured her essence in your kindred character Chris, which is a welcome thing, since I believe we need more of this sort in the world. Keep imagining, my friend!

[emmajoygreen]

Although a sad past mentioned, this is what I call 'charming'. There is a heartfelt touch to the tale within the story, emotions early explained, the characters of both Chris and the sentry well and yet gently told. You have left cues/hints and I so want to know more. Will they be merely characters or will each go her or his way? Will Chris go away, the sentry stay or is there an adventure to come? Subtle hints implied.. will wait and see very willingly. The mention of Lucy gives interesting guidance to what.. ..