{"id":315,"date":"2015-11-30T21:12:31","date_gmt":"2015-12-01T05:12:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/?p=315"},"modified":"2015-11-30T21:12:31","modified_gmt":"2015-12-01T05:12:31","slug":"originalfiction-november-27-28-29","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/2015\/11\/30\/originalfiction-november-27-28-29\/","title":{"rendered":"#OriginalFiction &#8211; November 27, 28, 29"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>She tried to process what she was learning. \u201cSo my Grandpa bought the land from Ms. Maggie\u2019s Grandpa\u2026 on her mother\u2019s side,\u201d she added to try and keep things clear.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe did indeed. After Abe\u2019s wife died, he had a hard time being home. Ended up moving into the carriage house on the Farnum estate.\u201d Mr. Timms let out a hard laugh. \u201cFunniest thing ever, it was. He and Alastair Farnum, Marion\u2019s father-in-law, became nearly inseparable. Two old widowers who never would have spoken to each other when they were young, suddenly spending all their time together playing chess.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And there was the AF that was the right age. Could she have solved the mystery? Was Abe who those letters were written to? Was that why he and Alastair never would have talked? She had to poke just a little bit more. \u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t Abe Milner and Alastair Farnum have talked when they were younger?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mr. Timms shook his head. \u201cYou hang out with the Simon kids hang out?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy not?\u201d He raised his eyebrows at her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy not? Because they go to a boarding school and holiday overseas.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mr. Timms nodded. \u201cExactly. Different social classes. You think you don\u2019t talk to the Simon kids because they aren\u2019t every here. Old Abe and Alastair knew they did not talk to each other because one was the scion of a wealthy family who owned factories and the other was the son of a factory worker.\u201d He smiled at her. \u201cOld age tends to erase some of those distinctions.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It was not quite as clear cut as she thought. She was certain that Alastair Farnum was the AF in the letters, so she could deliver them to Ms. Maggie. But was Abe Milner who they were written to? That would be awkward. Your grandmother was in love with your grandfather \u2013 the other one. Still, no matter what, she was certain Ms. Maggie would be happy to have the letters.<\/p>\n<p>She should feel some relief. She knew where the letters belonged to. She had all the answers she needed to satisfy the magic, but not all the ones she needed to satisfy her own curiosity.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf Mr. Milner was the son of a factory worker, he didn\u2019t inherit our land. How did he get it? Did it belong to his wife\u2019s family?\u201d She finished putting the caps back on the salt shakers.<\/p>\n<p>Mr. Timms shook his head. \u201cNo. His wife wasn\u2019t from here. City girl, I think, though she did love the place.\u201d He drained his coffee cup. \u201cFrom what I heard, Old Abe fought in the First World War. When the war ended, he did not come back here right away. Settled in the city, made some money. No one ever talked about how. He bought the property you live on from the Barnows and moved the family back here when Marion was about 8. Never worked here that I knew of.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mr. Timms set his coffee cup gently on the counter and pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. He set a $20 next to the cup.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me get you your change, Mr. Timms.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cKeep it, missy. Always makes an old man happy for a pretty, young girl to pretend she is interested in what he has to say.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBelieve it or not, Mr. Timms, I am really interested in what we talked about. As you said, I do love that bit of land.\u201d She smiled at him and began to get change out of the cash register.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll the more reason for you to keep the change as a tip. Have a good afternoon, Mina.\u201d And with that, Mr. Timms walked out of the diner.<\/p>\n<p>She put the change in her pocket and the $20 in the register. The diner was empty. She looked at the clock. It was just after 2:00pm. Her shift ended at 3:30pm, when Aria would arrive to work the rest of the night. Keeping herself busy for the next hour was not going to be an easy thing. She could not wait to tell Dorian what she had learned.<\/p>\n<p>Dorian stayed out in the car when he arrived. He knew that if he came in, something would be found for him to do. As it was, Aria arrived a few minutes late. Mina already had her apron off and flew out the door.<\/p>\n<p>She jumped in the car, eager to share her news, but Dorian spoke first. \u201cI think the AF in your letters might have been Alastair Farnum.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know. The letters belong to Ms. Maggie. I think they may have been written by her grandmother to her OTHER grandfather. It\u2019s kind of awkward, but if anyone can appreciate it, I think Ms. Maggie can.\u201d She took a breath. \u201cWait a minute, how do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI stopped by the historical society. The Farnums are all over the museum. How did you find out?\u201d He pulled the car out of the parking lot.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMr. Timms.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He nodded. \u201cSo, when are you going to give the letter to Ms. Maggie?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She chewed her lip. \u201cI don\u2019t know. Sunday doesn\u2019t exactly seem like the day to deliver that kind of news, but I don\u2019t want to take them to her at school, and waiting until next Saturday seems forever\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo you want me to drive you back into town after you gather the letters?\u201d He did not sound exasperated, which is what she would have expected.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMaybe\u2026 Mr. Timms gave me another big tip, so I can at least give you gas money.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They passed their mother\u2019s car, heading in to the diner, less than a mile away from the house and exchanged waves.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me know when you\u2019re ready to head back in to town.\u201d Dorian disappeared into his room.<\/p>\n<p>She lingered for a moment in the hallway before entering her room. She stared at the lock box. She had found it only 24 hours ago. And yet it seemed it had been with her forever. She sat on her bed and caressed the stack of letters. She was not ready to let go just yet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>She tried to process what she was learning. \u201cSo my Grandpa bought the land from Ms. Maggie\u2019s Grandpa\u2026 on her mother\u2019s side,\u201d she added to try and keep things clear. \u201cHe did indeed. After Abe\u2019s wife died, he had a hard time being home. Ended up moving into the carriage house on the Farnum estate.\u201d Mr. Timms let out a hard laugh. \u201cFunniest thing ever, it was. He and Alastair Farnum, Marion\u2019s father-in-law, became nearly inseparable. Two old widowers who never would have spoken to each other when they were young, suddenly spending all their time together playing chess.\u201d And there was the AF that was the right age. Could she have solved the mystery? Was Abe who those letters were written to? Was that why he and Alastair never would have talked? She had to poke just a little bit more. \u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t Abe Milner and Alastair Farnum have talked when they were younger?\u201d Mr. Timms shook his head. \u201cYou hang out with the Simon kids hang out?\u201d She laughed. \u201cWhy not?\u201d He raised his eyebrows at her. \u201cWhy not? Because they go to a boarding school and holiday overseas.\u201d Mr. Timms nodded. \u201cExactly. Different social classes. You think you don\u2019t talk to the Simon kids because they aren\u2019t every here. Old Abe and Alastair knew they did not talk to each other because one was the scion of a wealthy family who owned factories and the other was the son of a factory worker.\u201d He smiled at her. \u201cOld age tends to erase some of those distinctions.\u201d It was not quite as clear cut as she thought. She was certain that Alastair Farnum was the AF in the letters, so she could deliver them to Ms. Maggie. But was Abe Milner who they were written to? That would be awkward. Your grandmother was in love with your grandfather \u2013 the other one. Still, no matter what, she was certain Ms. Maggie would be happy to have the letters. She should feel some relief. She knew where the letters belonged to. She had all the answers she needed to satisfy the magic, but not all the ones she needed to satisfy her own curiosity. \u201cIf Mr. Milner was the son of a factory worker, he didn\u2019t inherit our land. How did he get it? Did it belong to his wife\u2019s family?\u201d She finished putting the caps back on the salt shakers. Mr. Timms shook his head. \u201cNo. His wife wasn\u2019t from here. City girl, I think, though she did love the place.\u201d He drained his coffee cup. \u201cFrom what I heard, Old Abe fought in the First World War. When the war ended, he did not come back here right away. Settled in the city, made some money. No one ever talked about how. He bought the property you live on from the Barnows and moved the family back here when Marion was about 8. Never worked here that I knew of.\u201d Mr. Timms set his coffee cup gently on the counter and pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. He set a $20 next to the cup. \u201cLet me get you your change, Mr. Timms.\u201d \u201cKeep it, missy. Always makes an old man happy for a pretty, young girl to pretend she is interested in what he has to say.\u201d \u201cBelieve it or not, Mr. Timms, I am really interested in what we talked about. As you said, I do love that bit of land.\u201d She smiled at him and began to get change out of the cash register. \u201cAll the more reason for you to keep the change as a tip. Have a good afternoon, Mina.\u201d And with that, Mr. Timms walked out of the diner. She put the change in her pocket and the $20 in the register. The diner was empty. She looked at the clock. It was just after 2:00pm. Her shift ended at 3:30pm, when Aria would arrive to work the rest of the night. Keeping herself busy for the next hour was not going to be an easy thing. She could not wait to tell Dorian what she had learned. Dorian stayed out in the car when he arrived. He knew that if he came in, something would be found for him to do. As it was, Aria arrived a few minutes late. Mina already had her apron off and flew out the door. She jumped in the car, eager to share her news, but Dorian spoke first. \u201cI think the AF in your letters might have been Alastair Farnum.\u201d \u201cI know. The letters belong to Ms. Maggie. I think they may have been written by her grandmother to her OTHER grandfather. It\u2019s kind of awkward, but if anyone can appreciate it, I think Ms. Maggie can.\u201d She took a breath. \u201cWait a minute, how do you know?\u201d \u201cI stopped by the historical society. The Farnums are all over the museum. How did you find out?\u201d He pulled the car out of the parking lot. \u201cMr. Timms.\u201d He nodded. \u201cSo, when are you going to give the letter to Ms. Maggie?\u201d She chewed her lip. \u201cI don\u2019t know. Sunday doesn\u2019t exactly seem like the day to deliver that kind of news, but I don\u2019t want to take them to her at school, and waiting until next Saturday seems forever\u2026\u201d \u201cSo you want me to drive you back into town after you gather the letters?\u201d He did not sound exasperated, which is what she would have expected. \u201cMaybe\u2026 Mr. Timms gave me another big tip, so I can at least give you gas money.\u201d They passed their mother\u2019s car, heading in to the diner, less than a mile away from the house and exchanged waves. \u201cLet me know when you\u2019re ready to head back in to town.\u201d Dorian disappeared into his room. She lingered for a moment in the hallway before entering her room. She stared at the lock box. She had found it only 24 hours ago. And yet it seemed it had been with her forever. She sat on her bed and caressed the stack of letters. She was not ready to let go just yet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[22],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-315","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-original-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p75MAh-55","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/315","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=315"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/315\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":316,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/315\/revisions\/316"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=315"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=315"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/erinshanendoah.com\/alienanthros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=315"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}