I never did give this a title....
The Remember Wenn Fan Fic that would not die is percolating again, I think an ending might be surfacing. I had originally mapped out three parts to this and a timeline... more planning than I've ever done before so of course at some point I lost all of my notes!
I want it all in one place, so here it begins...
Part 1
"I'm going out there and BE somebody!!" - Esther Blodgett (A Star is Born-1937)
Days were cold in Maine, and the nights were colder. Even the hottest days of summer the water splintered against the rocky shores like ice. The chill wound its way through the small fishing towns along the coast shaping the inhabitants clinging to the rocks like the mussels and clams that they hunted and lobsters they pulled from the deep. The cold, clear air polished the light. Sometimes as the light came lancing through the trees it was as if God was reaching down. The trees were dark and old holding Ligonia in their arms guarding the town from the rest of the world.
It was raining the day that the players came to town. They slogged through the muddy street past Joe on the porch of Eriksson’s General Store and stopped in front of the town hall. By evening Ligonia was abuzz with interest and most of the people were finding the urge to gather at the Whale’s Tale to gather a bit of news and some cheer.
“Hurry up Hildy-girl.”
The ten year-old shook her auburn curls out of her eyes and looked up from the music she was studying.
“You know if you don’t finish your chores I won’t take you downtown with me.”
“Mother won’t let you go without me. She’s going over to Mrs. Shaw’s they’re going to finish the costumes for the pageant.”
Byron Douglas smiled at his little girl “Feed the chicken’s Hilary then we’ll go.”
Hilary left the front porch with a bang, several thumps and a crash later she was in the back scattering grain.
“Hilary Winslow Douglas! Don’t let me catch you tearing through the house like that again.” Marion Douglas shook her head over the turbulence that seemed to follow her Hilary everywhere she went. Last week she had caught Hilary trying to teach the dog how to play You’re A Grand Old Flag on the piano. When caught Hilary had explained that Portia the piano-playing pooch would be a wonderful draw for the school pageant that year.
“The blooming Lilly of Ligonia on her way to Shaw’s Dry Goods.” Byron Douglas doffed his cap in an extravagant bow as his wife came down the front walk.
“Oh, Byron.” Marion smiled depreciatingly.
“Just as lovely as the day I met Miss Marion Booth, in Boston, Stunning, and fresh from her success in Princess Ida. Miss Booth may I have this dance?” Byron humming a waltz held out his arms with a raffish grin.
“Not on your life, not on the front lawn.” Marion’s eyebrow rapidly climbed toward her hairline as she regarded her grinning husband. “There’s a cold dinner in the ice box for you and Hilary. Have a good time and stay out of the Whale.”
“Marion… I wouldn’t bring Hilary in there.”
“She’ll keep an eye on you Byron, after all you must be in top form tomorrow, the school examiners are coming.” Marion brushed an invisible speck off her husband’s shoulder and leaned in closer. “The best teacher in Maine needs to remember to tell his daughter she will be a big sister soon.” Marion touched his cheek lightly and with a smile walked down the street toward Shaw’s. Byron watched her go, brought back to earth with a bang as Hilary, hat flying behind, let the door slam again.
“Can we go now?”
“Your chariot awaits, Madame” Byron bowed low and handed his daughter into the model T Ford.
The Town Hall was lit with luminaries and a giant banner hung outside proclaiming The Edward Holmes Players in gold and crimson. Broadsides had been posted around town earlier that day proclaiming tonight’s performance to be The Winter’s Tale by William Shakespeare. For that night the town hall was transformed into Leonte’s palace in Scilia and far Bohemia, there were disguises, comedy, tragedy, mistaken identities, true love and Bears.
The audience spilled out into the night. Hilary walked slowly be side her father lost to the world. “Did you enjoy that Hildy-girl?” he asked as he cranked the car.
“Oh Papa… It was so much better than vaudeville, was that like what Mother used to do? When Hermione was alive at the end it was positively perfect. I saw Mrs. Eriksson cry and Deacon Johnson too, and oh I want…”
“Whoa, I guess that was a yes,” Byron smiled at the glowing young face beside him as he started down the road for home. “Hildy-girl there’s something important I need to tell you. ‘Long about Christmas time you’re going to be a big sister.” Hilary seemed to be concentrating on the road spread out in front of them; Byron touched her arm. “Hilary, penny for….?” She leaned against him as the crickets sang, she could smell peppermint and underneath it tobacco, whiskey and chalk dust.
“Can the baby’s name be Perdita? Or Hermione, or Paulina, or…”
“We’ll see, my dear we’ll see.”
Part 2
I want it all in one place, so here it begins...
Part 1
"I'm going out there and BE somebody!!" - Esther Blodgett (A Star is Born-1937)
Days were cold in Maine, and the nights were colder. Even the hottest days of summer the water splintered against the rocky shores like ice. The chill wound its way through the small fishing towns along the coast shaping the inhabitants clinging to the rocks like the mussels and clams that they hunted and lobsters they pulled from the deep. The cold, clear air polished the light. Sometimes as the light came lancing through the trees it was as if God was reaching down. The trees were dark and old holding Ligonia in their arms guarding the town from the rest of the world.
It was raining the day that the players came to town. They slogged through the muddy street past Joe on the porch of Eriksson’s General Store and stopped in front of the town hall. By evening Ligonia was abuzz with interest and most of the people were finding the urge to gather at the Whale’s Tale to gather a bit of news and some cheer.
“Hurry up Hildy-girl.”
The ten year-old shook her auburn curls out of her eyes and looked up from the music she was studying.
“You know if you don’t finish your chores I won’t take you downtown with me.”
“Mother won’t let you go without me. She’s going over to Mrs. Shaw’s they’re going to finish the costumes for the pageant.”
Byron Douglas smiled at his little girl “Feed the chicken’s Hilary then we’ll go.”
Hilary left the front porch with a bang, several thumps and a crash later she was in the back scattering grain.
“Hilary Winslow Douglas! Don’t let me catch you tearing through the house like that again.” Marion Douglas shook her head over the turbulence that seemed to follow her Hilary everywhere she went. Last week she had caught Hilary trying to teach the dog how to play You’re A Grand Old Flag on the piano. When caught Hilary had explained that Portia the piano-playing pooch would be a wonderful draw for the school pageant that year.
“The blooming Lilly of Ligonia on her way to Shaw’s Dry Goods.” Byron Douglas doffed his cap in an extravagant bow as his wife came down the front walk.
“Oh, Byron.” Marion smiled depreciatingly.
“Just as lovely as the day I met Miss Marion Booth, in Boston, Stunning, and fresh from her success in Princess Ida. Miss Booth may I have this dance?” Byron humming a waltz held out his arms with a raffish grin.
“Not on your life, not on the front lawn.” Marion’s eyebrow rapidly climbed toward her hairline as she regarded her grinning husband. “There’s a cold dinner in the ice box for you and Hilary. Have a good time and stay out of the Whale.”
“Marion… I wouldn’t bring Hilary in there.”
“She’ll keep an eye on you Byron, after all you must be in top form tomorrow, the school examiners are coming.” Marion brushed an invisible speck off her husband’s shoulder and leaned in closer. “The best teacher in Maine needs to remember to tell his daughter she will be a big sister soon.” Marion touched his cheek lightly and with a smile walked down the street toward Shaw’s. Byron watched her go, brought back to earth with a bang as Hilary, hat flying behind, let the door slam again.
“Can we go now?”
“Your chariot awaits, Madame” Byron bowed low and handed his daughter into the model T Ford.
The Town Hall was lit with luminaries and a giant banner hung outside proclaiming The Edward Holmes Players in gold and crimson. Broadsides had been posted around town earlier that day proclaiming tonight’s performance to be The Winter’s Tale by William Shakespeare. For that night the town hall was transformed into Leonte’s palace in Scilia and far Bohemia, there were disguises, comedy, tragedy, mistaken identities, true love and Bears.
The audience spilled out into the night. Hilary walked slowly be side her father lost to the world. “Did you enjoy that Hildy-girl?” he asked as he cranked the car.
“Oh Papa… It was so much better than vaudeville, was that like what Mother used to do? When Hermione was alive at the end it was positively perfect. I saw Mrs. Eriksson cry and Deacon Johnson too, and oh I want…”
“Whoa, I guess that was a yes,” Byron smiled at the glowing young face beside him as he started down the road for home. “Hildy-girl there’s something important I need to tell you. ‘Long about Christmas time you’re going to be a big sister.” Hilary seemed to be concentrating on the road spread out in front of them; Byron touched her arm. “Hilary, penny for….?” She leaned against him as the crickets sang, she could smell peppermint and underneath it tobacco, whiskey and chalk dust.
“Can the baby’s name be Perdita? Or Hermione, or Paulina, or…”
“We’ll see, my dear we’ll see.”
Part 2