NaNoWriMo 2010

NaNoWriMo 2010



Heels clicked along the industrial tile floor, click, click, click, all eyes turned to see who was late to the lesson. Every seat in the long narrow room was filled with a young man or woman in old-fashioned garb, a white cotton blouse with a black waistcoat, black trousers, and polished leather boots for the men; the same cotton blouse for the women with a black or coffee brown pinafore, woolen stockings, and black shoes, either boots or some type of slip-on footwear, and a white cotton bonnet on the back of their heads. Every person seated in the hall was ready with a pen and paper to take notes on the lecture and Delwen Ellis felt her ears burning crimson as she surveyed the assembly. There was only one empty chair, on the front row, directly in front of the pulpit. Click, click, click went her heels as she tried to hold her shoulders square and walk to the front of the hall.

Punctuality had never been one of Delwen’s strong suits, she was the first to admit, but when she arrived at the lecture her watch had read five minutes to eight. She had gone directly to the assembly room and she knew it could not have taken five whole minutes to come in the door. As she sat down on the front row, directly before Mr. Carlson, she wondered where those five minutes had gone. She glanced at the huge oak clock hanging on the wall behind the pulpit and dais, discovering it was now ten minutes after the hour. She had lost fifteen minutes. Fifteen lost minutes had made her late.

“Returning now to the topic at hand,” Mr. Carlson looked down at Delwen as she noisily took the notepad and pen out of her black satchel, “Each hast the responsibility to look and behave the part of a dignified, pure young man or young woman…”

Delwen noticed that she was the only one wearing heeled boots on the front row, and that each young woman was seated with her knees pressed together, her ankles crossed or her feet firmly planted straight ahead on the floor. She had automatically crossed one leg over the other as she began to take notes on the flip-top spiral bound book. She remembered her grandmother saying to her that very morning, Be prudent, be wary, be respectful of our customs and for all of our sakes, do not behave as the heathens. Grandmother had meant, do not act like yourself and take care to keep your mouth and your legs shut. This was not the first time Grandmother had cautioned Delwen, but this time it mattered. If she could not keep herself unspotted and be in the good graces of the Council, she was going to lose everything.

“Every step of thy foot must be in accordance with the Law, every thought must be in agreement with Law, or thy families will suffer according to His will,” Mr. Carlson again looked down at Delwen, his tiny black eyes bored deep into her face, which again turned crimson at the attention, “His will is that each of His children return again unto Him, unblemished by temptation of the Serpent… and swift,” Mr. Carlson pounded the pulpit with a thick black book, causing every head to turn straight and every elbow to pause writing, the tension was heavy and cruel, “are His punishments and His retribution.”

Swallowing back her embarrassment and fear, Delwen continued to write notes upon the notebook for the greater part of two hours, attempting to define her role in the village, to make a place to belong. Grandmother had made tremendous efforts to get Delwen back to Havenshire and it would not be fair to give up before Delwen even began to bring the Ellis family back into proper society.

Havenshire was a tiny village in green, rolling hills of farmland. The best cotton and wool came from Havenshire, everyone in the lands round about knew it, and for this cause were most of the villagers and farmers employed for the greater part of the year. Spring was for shearing sheep and for planting and with the melted snows and gentle rains, the riverbeds were overflowing with cool, clean water for both washing wool and growing crops. Summer was for tending crops, pulling weeds, and caring for farms. In the fall came harvest, where every available hand was put to work in bringing in the cotton, the wheat, the barley, the grains of every type, as well as picking apples, pears, and every fruit of the tree; gathering all of the root vegetables, corn, and all manner of vegetable and grain. The people were hard working and industrious, humble in their dress and their manners. Some of the families of Havenshire still drove a team of horses or a wagon to get from one place to another, but there were occasionally the more sinful of the sinless who had brought trucks and cars from the world into the dusty cobble lined lanes of Havenshire. There was little love for the outside world, at least not openly, and the only want the inhabitants of Havenshire had, was to have their lands and their families kept safe and unpolluted from the world.

Like many communities of faith, the people of Havenshire had strict laws and punishments meted out by the leaders of the village, who also were the heads of their religious body. This theocratic governing had been a source of contention for many of the younger generations, thus the reason Delwen was taken by her parents out of Havenshire and to the sinful, carnal world outside the shire. On occasion her father would drive to the town to bring Delwen and her brothers to see their Grandparents and he was met with a mixture of admiration and revulsion by the townsfolk. Delwen could vividly recall having to change out of her usual jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers and put on a white shirt and black jumper and slip on a pair of stiff black leather boots. She thought the bonnet was fun to wear, however, and did not mind dressing up in her “Havenshire” clothes if it meant wearing the cute little hat. Her mother refused to visit, however, and Delwen could never get her mother to reveal why. There seemed to be so many secrets with her and Delwen learned early on in life not to attempt to delve into the past.

“Ye have an half-hour for luncheon,” Mr. Carlson said at last when the hands of the great oak clock behind him were both up on twelve. Delwen was not ashamed to admit that she was hungry after getting up at five o’clock to attend to the cows and to have prayer and breakfast with her Grandmother. However, even as she had tried to plan out the morning and her day to show up to lessons on time, to get everything done as she was required, she had forgotten to pack a lunch. Her stomach grumbled loudly. She watched as the young men all arose and walked in single file out of the hall, then the women followed in a neat, quiet line. This was nothing like high school outside Havenshire.

As she was the last to arrive in the hall, Delwen was the last to leave. She heard her shoes clicking loudly and wished she had listened as Grandmother said that a flat heeled shoe would be more appropriate on the first day of winter lessons. However, Delwen always wore high heeled shoes when she wore a dress and she wanted to still feel like herself under her Havenshire clothes. It was one thing to give up pencil skirts and jeans, it was something else to give up her cute shoes.

The young women gathered in small groups at the picnic tables under the oak trees of the courtyard. Some were opening their book bags and retrieving paper bags with sandwiches or fruit, others were standing by and talking softly, giving shy smiles and whispering with friends. Delwen did not have any friends in Havenshire. She stood alone in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around her slender waist. The midday breeze blew crisp brown leaves off of the oaks and Delwen kicked at an acorn on the ground. There were no fruit trees that she could see to find a late apple or to munch on a pear. The grounds were full of oaks and elms, with their arms broad and full of golden brown leaves.

No one approached Delwen during the luncheon hour. Occasional looks were tossed her way with a whispered comment from one girl to another behind gossiping hands, but Delwen simply smiled and thought of how the girls before her would feel if they were suddenly plucked from Havenshire and thrown into the secular world. They would not feel so morally superior, for sure, and they would be as nervous as she was about not making a misstep in word or deed. Delwen thought of her friends on the “outside”, of how they were probably having lunch right then, eating cheeseburgers and French fries in the cafeteria, making fun of Freshmen, making fun of each other, drinking Coke and looking forward to a movie or football game on Friday night. Delwen had to consider more important things. She had to make sure that her household chores were done, had to study the Word so she could recite passages without hesitation, she had to prove her worthiness to be called a daughter of Ellis. She had to restore the family’s status within Havenshire. Football games and trips to the mall would have to wait.