Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Tall Tale Tuesday

Thanksgiving style...
Read the story. Tell me the lies. There are two.

I was seventeen in the fall of 1621. My eighteenth birthday would fall on the second day of the feast, and I would marry Joesph the Sunday following the celebration. Since only four married women survived the journey and our first winter here, I was obligated to help in any way I could. Unfortunately, that meant preparing the fish for cooking and washing basket upon basket of cranberries. I missed the gentle guidance of my mother. She'd died shortly after the journey to the new land two years prior. I held her hand as she suffered through her final breaths. She made me promise to marry Joesph and to be a good wife. It was that promise I was now regretting. I didn't love Joesph. I didn't want to marry him. He was handsome enough, and nice. He had a productive farm not far from my father's. Sturdy - good husband material - but not my love.
I glanced out the window, watching the man who had captured my heart. He was Wampanoag and therefore an unlikely candidate for my husband. I call him Eli, though that's not his given name. My father refuses to listen to my pleas about my marriage to Joesph. He refuses to listen to my heart. All he does is remind me of the promise I made Ma. I'm trapped. And miserable. Picking up the bucket of fish guts, I went out the door. It was dangerous to continue to talk to Eli when my fate was already sealed, but I had to. I needed to. He smiled when he saw me, my heart shattered, lurching at the sight of him. He'd asked me to run away with him and I've yet to give him an answer.

Two lies. What are they?
(No, I'm not talking about me. It's a first person story, so don't even think you can use the "I's" as an answer! And you'll have to ignore any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes in the story. I'm in a rush to get everything on my list done before the holiday!)


Natalie J. Damschroder said...

Okay, one is that the mother died two years prior, since the Pilgrims landed in 1620.'s not the Wampanoag, they're native to Massachusetts.

Okay, I've just wasted 15 minutes researching. LOL I'm going to say the second one was productive farm, since farms were not productive yet.

Jo said...

I can't believe I'm about to type this...but I am STUMPED!!!! Good job Vicki!