The Approach of Ginger Ed

The Approach of Ginger Ed

Today is part 2 of the mini-mystery for children I posted yesterday. Tomorrow, I’ll finish it up and then do a short critique of what I could have done that would have made the story better.

“I guess I’d better tell you, Nellie Sue,” Grandma said in her soft voice. “Ginger Ed has escaped from prison and it’s said that he is in this area.”

Mama gasped. “I don’t want you to tell Sally anything about it,” she said. “She’s just a child. She’d be scared to death.”

“I’m not a child and I’m plenty scared,” Aunt Abby said as she crossed her legs. Aunt Abby only crossed her legs when she was upset. At all other times, she sat with her ankles crossed as a lady should. Sally figured Grandma wouldn’t know since Aunt Abby’s legs were under the quilting frame.

“I think you and Sally had better come home with us for the night,” Grandma said. “It’s not safe, you two being here alone. Oh, when will this terrible war end and our menfolk get to come home?”

“Now, Ma, Sally and I will be fine. I’ve got Tom’s rifle and I’ll put it beside the bed tonight. I feel like I’m coming down with a cold and the best place for me is right here. However…” Mama’s voice took on an uncertain note. “However, I might ought to send Sally home with you. It’d be safer for her.”

Before Sally remembered she was supposed to be hiding, she scrambled out from under the quilt and stood with her hands on her hips, facing her mother.

“No!” she said. “If you’re staying, I’m staying. No old Outlaw Ginger Ed is going to scare me away.”

“Child!” Grandma’s voice was sharp. “What are you doing under there? Don’t you know eavesdropping is wrong?”

Mama put her arms around Sally and drew her close.

“It’s all right,” she said, smiling. “I remember doing the same thing when I was young.”

“Well, maybe it’s better that she knows,” Aunt Abby said. “She can help you be on the lookout if you’re going to be stubborn and stay here, Nellie Sue.”

“Just how much do you know about Ginger Ed, child?” Grandma asked.

Sally swallowed. “I know that he’s in jail ’cause he robbed a bank and shot somebody and I know he’s meaner than a rattlesnake. That’s what the kids at school say. I’m staying with my mama. No old outlaw is going to drive me away.”

Grandma shook her head. “Stubborn,” she said. “Just like her mama.”

Grandma decided she and Aunt Abby should start for home because the sky was getting darker and the clouds looked like they were heavy with snow. Night came early in the dead of winter.040

“We’ll do the chores together tonight, Sally,” Mama said.

Usually, Sally gathered the eggs and stirred up some cornbread for supper while Mama milked Peaches the cow, but tonight they both went into the dusky chickenhouse for the eggs. Together, they went to the barn to milk Peaches. When they were safely back in the warm kitchen, Mama latched the front and back doors and set about fixing supper.

That night, as she lay on her featherbed, Sally listened to the wind moaning through the oak trees in the yard. She repeated her nighttime prayer, reminded herself that Mama was in the next room with Papa’s gun and they were as snug as two bugs in a rug. That old outlaw was probably way out of the county, if he knew what was good for him.

 

 

 

 

Comments

  1. An interesting peek into your earlier writings, Blanche, I look forward to reading your critique.

    After creating a piece of art I turn the painting to the wall and don’t look at it for about 3 weeks, I am better able to see if improvement is needed. After completing short stories for education markets I don’t read them for a couple of weeks, it helps me to spot errors, previously missed, before sending the story to a publisher.

    • That’s a good idea, Josephine, to put things back and let them “cool” for a bit. I really like the mosaic you posted on your Facebook page.

  2. Can’t wait for tomorrow!

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