Monday, December 22, 2014

Bee Truthful

or, Conclusion to The Day the Globe Dropped
If you missed the first instalment, *click* on over and read it now.  We'll wait.

Margot’s heart stopped.  It leaped into her throat.  The Ornament floated  toward the floor.  Margot aged, the pretty falling for days, it seemed.  She thought, “The green and black rag rug Grammy made will cushion The Ornament, and it won’t--"

“Poof.”



It was a muffled explosion, but the shards scattered across the rug, and even onto the hardwood floor.  Margot almost shrieked, but no, she controlled the impulse.  She started to run from the room.  “I’ll tell Grammy the cat did it,” she thought.  But then she realized the cat was hers.  The cat was home.  Grams did not have a cat.



Margot ever so carefully picked up the larger pieces of the globe and wrapped them in an old brown poke, stuffed them into the bottom of the waste bin.  She swept the rest of the wreckage down the register.  “That’s not right,” she muttered to herself, and yet she was satisfied that all was cleaned up.  Except for her conscience, that is, which was getting louder and louder as it reiterated over and over, “Naughty girl!”

“Grammy!”  she called up the stairs. “Grammy.”

“What is it, Girl?  I’ll be down shortly.”

“I have to go to the necessary.”

“Alright, Sweetie.  Put your coat on, now.”

Margot shrugged into her blue woolen jacket and started toward the kitchen door.  She stopped and went back to the trash bin where she recovered the bag that contained the broken pretty.  She  took this with her and threw it down the hole.  “Naughty girl,” said her conscience.

After Grammy and Margot finished their supper, Margot’s having been mostly pushed desultorily from one side of her plate to the other, they quickly washed up and dried the dishes.  They went into the parlor, where they sat side by side on the settee.  Grams picked up the book.

“What ails you, Child?” she asked as she opened the book. She glanced sideways and saw a tear leak from Margot’s eye and trickle down her cheek.  Grandma began to read
 “I didn’t do anything,” said Freddy as bold as brass, and with these words a little bee sprang out of his mouth, while poor Freddy had grown so reckless that he hardly noticed BEE-TRUTHFUL flying away.*

Margot’s sob turned to a wail as she buried her head under Grammy’s left arm.  “There, there,” Grams consoled.  “Why didn’t you tell me you broke The Ornament?”

Grandma allowed Margot to wail and blubber for a bit as she stroked the little girl’s curls.  Finally the child was able to sob out, “But now you will hate me.  I. am such a bad girl.”

 “No, of course I don’t hate you.  I could never hate you; I love you so much.  And you are not a bad girl.  You are a curious little girl who did something wrong, and you knew it was wrong.  But it can be forgiven.  Naturally I feel badly that The Ornament is gone, but I feel badly because you disobeyed me, you did something you knew you shouldn’t, then you tried to cover it up.”

The child looked up into her Grandmother’s eyes.  “I am sorry,” she said.  "I will save all my pennies until I can buy you a new ornament.”

“I forgive you.  You do not need to buy an ornament.  The Ornament is gone.  But what I most want is to see my Little Girl growing up to be a truthful, kind, and honest person.  Will you do that?”

Margot nuzzled as close as she could to Grams.  They sat quietly for a while, and when Mommy and Daddy with Uncle and Auntie came in much later, this is what they saw.  Elderly lady and young girl holding each other, both fast asleep.

We like to think that all is well that ends well.

*Freddy’s Dream, or, A Bee in His Bonnet, Andrew Stewart, 1884.  p.78

7 comments:

Vee said...

Sweet ending.

Secondary Roads said...

Thus may it ever be.

vanilla said...

Vee, I think the author was just not in the mood for an unhappy tale.

Chuck, I have had my fill of adults yelling at kids for being kids. Teaching them, yes; anger, no.

Sharkbytes said...

And it is lessons like that that stay with us our whole lives. How wise Grammy was. Perhaps I will have to tell the story of the blue Marble.

vanilla said...

Sharkbytes, and so it is that I anticipate reading the story of the blue Marble!

Lin said...

I'm glad it wasn't Grammy's favorite ornament. Or even if it was, I have a feeling that it would have turned out just the same.

vanilla said...

Lin, I just have a feeling that Grams was a very special person, one who valued relationships above objects.