Disclaimer: The story of Christy belongs to the Marshall-LeSourd Family. This fiction is written for my own personal enjoyment. The story uses themes from the book, CBS series and PAX movies. Title: The MacNeill's: Part Six / Chapter One "Amelia Jean MacNeill ................................................ After the twins had been born, the MacNeill household seemed to be in a eternal uproar. Ian and Sean were demonic and angelic. They kept their parents and siblings on their guard. Mischief was their companion. Trouble was their shadow, much to Christy's dismay. They were smart, and worked together to plan and execute ideas that would eventually land them in trouble. Bob Allen warned Neil that boys would be boys; Creed was a perfect example. In the years following their birth, Christy suffered two miscarriages. She was distraught, and blamed herself. Neil was her tower of strength. When the twins turned four, they began to realize what their parents were trying to teach them. They followed the household routine, chores were assigned to them. They saw Neil's role as a doctor and a healer. They listened to their mother. The world around them began to make sense. Ned, Catherine and Charlie emerged as role models. The twins began to watch their siblings more closely than before. Neil and Christy had been married for ten years. Christy spent a lot of time teaching the twins their letters and numbers. They were read stories, They would climb onto their Poppa's lap when he sat in the rocking chair. He would read to them but he was also a masterful storyteller. When he would begin, all of his children gathered around to hear him spin his tales of adventure. For Christy, these were times to be treasured; memories kept in her heart. They made the trip to Asheville for Thanksgiving. Julia was amazed at the changes in the twins. They were no longer devilish cherubs, but walking and talking little boys. They loved to get into mischief still, but in some ways they were settling down. She wished that Christy and Neil lived closer to them. She was a bit jealous that Alice got to see more of her grandchildren, but she had learned to keep her counsel. Neil would not allow her to upset Christy. Julia could sense and see a tinge of sadness in her daughter. Christy's two miscarriages weighed heavily on her daughter's mind. Julia knew Christy's will. Privately Julia felt five children was enough, but, she knew that Christy wanted another baby. In March, an influenza epidemic spread throughout the Cove. Neil closed the school. Christy was glad that Ned, Catherine and Charlie were home. The twins caught a cold, but they were over it in a week. Neil was gone for days at a time. Alice, Dr. Davis and Neil were all on the brink of exhaustion. Finally the danger passed, but the Cove and outlying areas lost eight residents. The school was re-opened. Christy made Neil stay home. She pampered him and made all of his favorite foods. She baked cookies, cobblers and pies. She made him stay in bed in the mornings so he could catch up on his sleep. The twins helped look after their Poppa. They managed to share some special times together. Christy was getting over her depression. About six weeks later, Neil had a hankering for fried chicken and biscuits. He slaughtered a hen, dressed it and set about plucking the bird. This was a chore Neil chose to do for his beloved wife. She had a hard time slaughtering animals because she had the bad habit of giving them all names. When he brought the hen to Christy, she took one look at it and ran out of the cabin, heaving at the base of the steps. The sight of the plucked bird turned her stomach. This had never happened before. He held her, gave her a wet cloth and began to ask her questions. It had been a while since she experienced such sickness. She looked at Neil with joy and fear. She didn't want to lose another baby. They said a prayer together. Neil told her he would do the cooking, and insisted that she rest. The next few weeks were difficult. The smell of coffee made her queasy. Neil made tea instead. The children were told to watch her, and not let her strain herself because they were going to have a new baby in the house. Ned, Catherine, Charlie and even the twins all pitched in to do the extra chores. Neil ascertained that the baby would be born in November. As only a mother can, Christy prayed for the health of her unborn child. ........................................ It was an exceptionally warm summer night. Neil was sleeping soundly beside her. Christy felt restless. Sleep eluded her. She finally decided to get up because she didn't want to disturb Neil's sleep. She looked in on the children. They were all asleep, covers turned aside because of the heat. She quietly walked onto the porch and listened to the sounds of the summer night. She could hear the water as it rushed over rocks. The owls were hooting to one another in the distance. The stars were shining brightly, the sky seemed so dark because there was no moonlight. Stars were like diamonds sparkling against black velvet. She sensed Neil's presence before he spoke. "Are you feeling all right, Lass?" "I'm fine. I just couldn't fall asleep." "Is anything bothering you? Is the baby very active tonight?" "No, not really. Everything is fine. I'm sorry that I woke you. I tried to be quiet." "You were, my love. I just missed having you there beside me." He kissed the top of her head. She leaned her head back against his chest and sighed. He smiled into her hair. Then he turned her around and kissed her gently. She sighed again, content. She put her arms around him reveling at his virility. He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to their bed. In the morning she awoke in Neil's arms. She turned to kiss him awake, but he was already up, watching her sleep. He loved the peacefulness that radiated from her as she slumbered. It reminded him of the first time he watched her sleep after the school had been set on fire. He knew then she would hold a special place in his life. "Good morning Lass/Darling." They spoke at the same time, and then they laughed. She wished she could stay in his arms like this all day long. Sounds emanating throughout the cabin indicated that some or all of the children were awake. "I wish..." she started to say. "I know," he said, "I could stay like this with you forever." "Breakfast!" They said together, and both reluctantly got up to dress and greet their children in the kitchen. It was a brand new day at the MacNeill's. .......................................................... The weeks flew by. Vegetables and fruits were canned. Turnips, onions, cabbages, and potatoes were stored in the root cellar. Hams had been salted and cured and the bacon was smoked. Just before Thanksgiving, Amelia Jean MacNeill was born. Neil was overjoyed for here she surely resembled her Momma. As he held her in his arms, he looked lovingly at Christy. "Lass, we have six beautiful children. How can I ever thank you for all of the joy you have give me?" "Neil, you don't have to thank me. I share your joy." Alice looked in on them. She smiled at her newest granddaughter. "At least Catherine will have a sister to share things with." Christy's face clouded for a minute and she remembered her own sister, who had died so young. Amelia bore her name. She prayed that Catherine would indeed get to share things with the newest member of the MacNeill clan. End of Chapter One Title: The MacNeill's Part Six Chapter Two "Amelia Jean MacNeill" Summary: Just before Thanksgiving, Christy gives birth to her sixth child, a daughter, Amelia Jean. .................................................. Julia and William Huddleston came to Cutter Gap to see their new granddaughter. Julia brought everything needed for an Asheville Thanksgiving. She knew that Christy would be busy with the new baby. Everyone would pitch in to help. Alice and Hattie would be joining them, as well as David, Miranda and their three children. It would be a lively celebration for everyone. As the family sat around the table, William was filled with a sense of pride and peace. He looked at his son-in-law, grateful that Neil's skill had given him a second chance. He had walked his daughter down the aisle at her wedding, and been able to play lions and tigers with his grandchildren. After dinner, but before dessert, Christy got up and left the table. She had heard Amelia fussing. While the women cleaned off the table and put the food away, William, David and Neil kept up a lively conversation with all of the children. Neil got up to look in on Christy and Amelia. The sight of mother and child together always brought tears of joy to his eyes. Christy smiled at him and began to move the baby up on her shoulder. As he had done hundreds of times before, Neil grabbed a piece of flannel for his shoulder, took the baby from Christy and burped Amelia. He held her gently in his big, strong hands, bent down and kissed his wife. They walked out of the bedroom together. William held out his hands to take the baby from Neil. As William looked down at Amelia, he said, "My little Miss." Tears filled Christy's eyes. She smiled at her father and embraced Neil. William said to her, "I feel like I've stepped back in time thirty-three years, and am looking at you, Christy." "Oh Daddy," she said laughing. They were rejoined by Alice, Hatti, Julia and Miranda. Desserts were served. It had been a meal to remember, a Thanksgiving memory to treasure. .......................................................... Six months later Neil came into the cabin from visiting the Holt's. Little Sarah had developed an ear infection. Rebecca was good at following doctor's orders, so he felt she would recover soon. "Christy," he called, "the huckleberries on Pebble Mountain are ready for picking." Now berry picking was considered women's work. The vine covered bluffs where the plants grew best also housed poisonous snakes. Neil always went with her and helped her pick berries, taking along his shotgun as a precaution. "We'll take a picnic with us," she said. They got up early the next day. After a hearty breakfast, they all set out with baskets and pails. Christy had packed sliced ham, biscuits, lemonade and gingerbread for their lunch. They began their trek to the huckleberry patch. The morning sun was pink over the mountains. Mist clung to the hollows. Christy held Amelia in her arms. Charlie and Catherine walked beside her. Ned held the hands of the twins. They sang songs while walking. It took almost an hour to reach the berry patch. Neil brought along some canteens with water and insisted that everyone drink to avoid dehydration. The sun rose higher in the summer sky. As they picked the berries, the baskets became filled with the delicious fruit. They broke for lunch. Christy washed some of the berries and they ate them for dessert along with the gingerbread Neil had received as payment for medical services. Christy planned to can most of the berries. They would bring a touch of summer to the long winter months ahead. She'd make a shortcake with them tomorrow. Earlier in the month they had picked wild strawberries. She loved the taste of those delicate treats. She had picked enough for a batch of jam. Last year the bears and the birds got most of them. They finished picking, all the baskets and pails were filled. When they reached home in the late afternoon, everyone was tired. Neil would help her can them in the morning. It had been a beautiful day spent with her loved ones. Christy sat down later in the evening and recorded the day's events in her journal. ......................................... Neil and Christy were enjoying a quiet moment together. Ben Pentland had just delivered the mail. Neil had received two medical journals and a letter from Harold Wade. Christy had a letter from her parents. They had been sipping a cup of tea together, just enjoying the quiet. The children were in school, and baby Amelia was napping. Letters were such a wonderful form of communication. Having the telephone was handy, but there was still something special about receiving a letter from a loved one. Christy's letter was full of the latest gossip, from her mother telling her who had bobbed their hair to those who raised their hemlines to show more leg. "Neil," she said with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, "Mother said it's the latest rage for women to bob their hair. Do you think I should cut mine?" Neil thought for a long time before he answered. He loved Christy's long hair. He would help her wash it, and brush it and even braid it at night. Removing her hairpins was one of the loving, intimate gestures he shared with her. If she indeed wanted to cut it, he would miss it very much. "Christy, it is your hair; if you want to cut it, well Lass, it's your right. I would be devastated, but then, it's not my hair." She chuckled. "Silly man, as if I'd give up having you help me take care of it! I love the way you touch my hair and hold me and nuzzle me and kiss my hair. Those are precious moments we share together. I would not want to lose them because I bobbed my hair!" Neil looked at Christy intently. She was thirty-three years old now and more beautiful to him than ever before. They had finished their tea. Neil stood and took her hand. She stood up and then he kissed her. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Much later, Amelia started to talk "baby talk". Neil heard her and went to the crib to look upon his delightful daughter, who was so like her mother. He realized her diaper was wet, so he cooed and spoke gently to her as he changed it. Christy watched quietly from their bed. Neil loved helping her take care of the children. He never once said rearing a child was only women's work. He had helped her bathe them, feed them, change their diapers. He soothed their fears, patched up their cuts, scrapes and bruises. How she loved him! When he could spare the time, he spent it with his children. His work was so demanding. He had vowed to himself on their wedding day he would not neglect his wife or children, if they were so blessed. Christy got up and dressed. Neil had put Amelia in her playpen. The children would soon be home from school. Homework would have to be done. Neil helped Christy in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for the stew she was preparing for supper. She had made fresh bread early in the morning. When the children came home, the first thing Ned did was pick up the baby and give her a big hug. She giggled at her big brother. The children hugged their parents. They were happy to see Neil at home. He was often at the clinic in the afternoon. They did their homework, and Neil promised the boys her would take them fishing in the evening. End of Chapter Two Disclaimer: The story of Christy belongs to the Marshall-LeSourd Family. This fiction is written for my own personal enjoyment. This story uses themes from the book, CBS series and the PAX movies. Title: "The MacNeill's" Part Six/Chapter Three "Amelia Jean MacNeill" ....................................................... The fireplace served as a heating system for the household. In the winter evenings the hearth was the place where the family gathered, not only for warmth, but for entertainment. Neil had a way of building a substantial fire that would last for a very long time. As Ned grew older, he assisted his father in building the blaze. After supper the family settled in around the hearth area. Christy would piece fabric for a quilt, knit or mend. Neil would sit in his rocking chair and smoke his pipe. The children would sit around in various places, on the floor on a rug, on the hassock or chairs, or the best place of all, their parents laps. Stories were told by Neil and Christy about their childhoods. Neil would sometimes speak of his ancestors. Sometimes as they sat around the fire, they would sing hymns or mountain ballads. All of the children could carry a tune, like their father. Patches would fall asleep next to Charlie, the cats would sleep in any available lap. On some nights, they would pop corn in the big wire popper over the coals. Another treat was to bury potatoes in the hot coals and then eat them smothered in melted butter after they were cooked. Christy or Neil would read passages from the Bible. Favorite stories were also read. When bedtime came, tired children were put to sleep on their soft feather beds, covered in hand made quilts. On very cold nights, Neil heated bricks. Each one was wrapped in layers of soft flannel and placed at the bottom of each bed to keep everyone's feet warm and toasty. Christy was content. She had six beautiful children. Neil was still everything she could have dreamed for in a husband. He was so determined to keep his family well. He tried to protect them from harm. He guarded their health and welfare. She also knew his fears, and did her best to allay them. Ian and Sean did indeed resemble Creed Allen's personality. No matter how hard they tried to be good, trouble attracted them like bears to honey. It certainly made life interesting. They asked questions about everything. Their curiosity knew no bounds. They were interested in knowing why things happened and how things worked. Sean had developed a special relationship with his grandfather. His constant barrage of "whys" always received patient answers. He was fascinated by William's office and all of the books that contained the laws and statutes for the state of North Carolina. Whenever the MacNeill's visited Asheville, Sean could be found in Grandpa's office. Ian had a fascination with wood. He loved to watch Jeb Spencer or Uncle David work with wood. He had so many questions and both men would also patiently answer them. He loved to help his Poppa build or fix things. Amelia Jean was a joy. Neil was absurdly over-protective of his youngest daughter. She was a mirror image of Christy. She was now talking a blue streak, and learning quickly from her brothers and sister. She had them wrapped around her little finger, and as the youngest she got away with almost everything. The boys had nicknamed her "Amy Jean." She could be as imperious as Grandmother Rudd. She would try to manipulate her parents, but she failed more times than she succeeded. It was now 1928. Ned was thirteen, Catherine-eleven, Charlie-nine, Sean and Ian-seven and Amelia was three years old. ................................................... As a child, Christy loved swings. After they were first married, Neil had asked Christy many questions about her childhood. She told him that in her heart she was a tomboy, much to her mother's dismay. She was very competitive, she liked to win and she loved to play on the swing in her mother's rose garden. In that first Spring of their marriage, Neil and Jeb constructed a porch swing made out of sturdy slats of oak. It had a comfortable back to it and sides for arm rests. It hung by sturdy chains from the thick log rafters on the porch. It was long enough to hold two adults. After Ned was born, Neil and David hung a rope swing with a wide plank seat, from an oak tree near the river. It was close to one of Neil's favorite fishing holes. Christy would sit on it and gently swing Ned as they watched Neil fish. When Catherine was old enough, the swing became one of her favorite play things. She could swing and watch her brother and Poppa fish in the river. With time, use and exposure to the elements, the plank seat split and had to be replaced by Neil. Amy Jean had watched Catherine swing and decided she wanted to play too, She barely managed to climb up on the seat. Her legs were too short to be able to touch the ground. She could not push off to get the momentum started, and she didn't know how to push hard enough to set the swing in motion. She managed to go back and forth a bit, but not like Catherine had done. Christy was on the porch. Amy had been playing with her doll a minute before. When Christy saw Amy on the swing she screamed. She was too far away and watched in horror as her youngest slid off the seat and fell to the ground hitting her head. Neil and the boys were there in a flash. Amy was more shaken than hurt, but he would take no chances. Neil carried her inside and checked her thoroughly. She was scared, but not seriously hurt. She had scrapes on the back of her head and elbows. Neil had her lay quietly on the couch. Christy was upset. "Neil," she said tearily, " cut down the swing." "No." "Why not?" "Because it's not necessary. I'm going to speak to Jeb about building a special swing for her. I'll not punish Catherine by cutting down her swing. I saw a special seat in a park once when I was in Baltimore. It was safe for the little ones. Let me talk to Jeb, Christy." "I was frantic. She was gone in a flash." "I know, I was frantic too." "She was so still, Neil." "She was just stunned for a few minutes." "Oh Neil, I don't think I could bear seeing any of my babies seriously injured." "Momma, I'm not a baby," declared Ned. "Son," said Neil, " you are her first born. The bond she has with you will never be broken. It's a fact of life, get used to it." "Poppa," said Ned with exasperation. "Get used to it," Neil said with laughter in his voice, "no matter how old any of you get, you will always be her babies!" Christy laughed in agreement. Who could argue with the truth? Neil stopped by Jeb's the next day with a drawing of what he needed to construct a swing for Amy Jean. Jeb understood the concept of a little chair with arms, no legs and a wooden bar that would slide down the two ropes and safely tuck the child in to keep her from falling. Two weeks later it was ready. Ropes were strung over the oak next to Catherine's swing and the chair was attached. Amy Jean could be pushed by her Momma, Poppa or her brothers, while Catherine swung beside her. She was safe and Christy was at peace. Neil was content. .................................................................. Amelia knew that if she cried Poppa would soothe her and hug her and fix her scraped knees. She had run away from Sean because he had pushed her. He had yelled, "No Amy!" and pushed her away. All she had wanted to do was to pet the black kitty with the white stripe down its back. Sean wouldn't let her. She petted Smoky and Mist and Patches all the time. Sean was mean! She knew if she told Poppa that Sean had pushed her, he would yell at him and he would be in big trouble. She ran to the cabin calling for her Poppa. She started crying. Neil came running . "Poppa, Sean pushed me down. My knees are hurted." Neil saw that her knees were scraped. Sean came running to the steps. Neil glanced at Amelia through the corner of his eyes. She was smirking! As Sean came running up the steps, she quickly began to sob harder. "You precious little imp," Neil thought. "What happened Sean?" "Poppa, I pushed her away because she wanted to pet the skunk that's nesting by the hollow in the sweet gum tree." "Scraped knees are far less painful than being sprayed by skunk oil, Amelia Jean." She realized that her father hadn't fallen for her tears. "I wanted to pet the kitty, Poppa." "A skunk isn't a kitty. You can pet the dog and the cats and even the rabbits in the hutch, Amy. Skunks and other wild animals don't want to be petted. Thank you Sean. You saved your mother and I an afternoon of pure misery trying to rid your sister of the smell of skunk. Well done, son." "Poppa, she's fearless. She'd try to pet a bear if she could. You've got to do something, Poppa. We can't keep our eyes on her all the time!" Neil laughed heartily. This coming from one of his notorious twins! "Now you have an idea of what you've put your mother and I through when you were younger." The he turned to Amelia. He looked sternly at her. "When your brothers or sister tell you ‘no' they are standing in for Momma and Poppa. It was very wrong of you to try to get Sean into trouble." Neil rarely raised his voice to either of his daughters. "I do not like deception, Amelia Jean. You may go to your room." He opened the door to the bedroom she shared with Catherine. "I am disappointed, Amelia Jean." She started to cry in earnest. Neil cleaned the scrapes on her knees. Eventually she cried herself to sleep. Neil told Christy what had transpired. "That little minx," she said, shaking her head. ........................................................ Amelia was very smart. She was going to start school in September. She knew her alphabet. She could count to five hundred and she could read. Watching her brothers and sister do their homework, hearing her Momma and Poppa instruct them, well, she just listened and absorbed all of this fascinating information. When Ned learned The Gettysburg Address of President Lincoln for the final school social, so did she. Amy Jean didn't understand what all the words meant, but she felt one day she would figure them out. Neil doted on her. He loved all of his children to distraction. Catherine was such a mix of both Christy and Neil. At age thirteen, she was facing a lot of changes at this point in her life. Blossoming as a young woman, yet in so many ways she was still his little rebel. Amy Jean was tiny and petite, and very much a little lady. While Catherine had despised ruffles and lace, Amy absolutely adored them. Catherine was a tomboy at heart. Amelia thought she was a princess, and so did Geoffrey Grantland. He was a year older than Amelia, and he thought she was perfect. End of Chapter Three Disclaimer: The story of Christy belongs to the Marshall-LeSourd Family. This fiction is written for my own personal enjoyment. This story uses themes from the book, CBS series and the PAX movies. Title: "The MacNeill's" Part Six/Chapter Four "Amelia Jean MacNeill" ....................................................... Moira Parker was at her wits end. She wasn't quite sure what to do about Amelia Jean MacNeill. She was so far above the other children her age. Her reading and comprehension skills were on a fourth grade level or better. She was also superior in mathematics. Some of the children were intimidated by her. She was also a chatterbox, and loved to tell her classmates what they were doing wrong. Moira knew she would have to talk to Christy about her youngest daughter. The opportunity to talk to Christy came sooner than Moira expected. Christy had stopped by the Mission to see Miss Alice. Moira and Miranda ended up joining them for tea. "There is nothing quite as civilized as a cup of hot tea served in fine china," said Miss Alice, smiling. "I have had the luxury of experiencing High Tea once. Although my Quaker sensibilities were ill at ease in the opulent dining room, I managed to appreciate the elegance of the tradition." Christy remembered taking High Tea with her mother and grandmother in Asheville. "I loved the little cucumber sandwiches," she said. "I had to wear a hat, and my white gloves. It was an experience. I don't think Catherine would want to be dressed like that, but Amelia would love it." She laughed at the thought. "Geoffrey said Amelia was helping him with his subtraction problems," said Miranda. "Yes," said Moira quietly. "Oh dear, what has she done now?" asked Christy. "She wants to help everyone," said Moira. "even when the children don't want her assistance." "My little busybody. I'm so sorry Moira. I'll speak with her again. It's just that she absorbs so much of what her brothers and sister are studying. She comprehends so much. I hate to put a damper on her enthusiasm for learning." "I understand what you are saying, Christy. My concern is for the feelings of inadequacy some to the other children are experiencing as a result." "Neil and I will have to talk with her. She has to understand that there is one teacher in the school. She is not old enough to be a junior teacher." "Geoffrey has a serious crush on Amelia," said Miranda with a smile. "But she's only six years old." laughed Christy. "Yes, I know. He's turned seven now," giggled Miranda. "Amy Jean does know how to flirt very well." laughed Miss Alice. "She just bats her eyelashes, and the little boys fall off the benches." "Oh dear," said Christy. "Do I have to address that problem as well? At least Catherine hasn't put us through that, yet." "I don't know about that, Christy. I think my Luke has a serious case of Catherine-itis." "Really? She hasn't said anything to me." "I think it's because she spent so much time with Ned and Luke, she hasn't looked at him in a romantic way." "I know that she thinks he is special," said Christy. "She's mentioned that to me, I didn't see it as a crush though. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. She's fourteen and I imagine it will be sooner rather than later. But Amy is my concern. I don't want her to be a busybody." The ladies disbanded, and Christy walked over to the clinic. Neil had finished with his last patient and was updating his patient records. "What a nice surprise, Lass. I'm just finishing up my notes." "I joined Miss Alice, Moira and Miranda for tea, Neill. Apparently Amelia Jean is at it again. She's trying to be a junior teacher, and she is rubbing some of her classmates the wrong way. They don't like know-it-alls." "Oh my, she doesn't understand their pride, does she? Well, we'll have to talk to her tonight and try to help her to understand it. What a bother. Did you ride Duchess here?" "No, I felt like walking." "Good, then. We'll ride home together. It will be like old times, Lass." She smiled at him. "It has been a while, hasn't it darling? I can remember dreaming once, before we were married, of riding behind you on Charlie, through the meadow. It was just before Margaret returned." "Well then, shall we go and gallop through the meadow, Christy?" "We'll be going the long way home, Neil." "Are you in a hurry?" "Not today." "Good." "Dinner is made. Catherine will set the table, and Ned will make sure the twins and Amy have done their homework." She put her arms firmly around Neil as they raced through the meadow. It was exhilarating. She felt so alive! It was hard to believe that they'd been married for seventeen years. They were laughing together, and it felt good to be able to feel this way. When they reached the cabin there was a lightness in their steps. The children greeted them with hugs and kisses and noisy chatter. After dinner was finished and dishes washed and dried, Christy spoke with Amelia. They sat on the porch swing listening to the noises of the evening twilight. Neil joined them, lighting his pipe as he sat down. He put his arm around them both, along the back of the swing. "My sweet Lassie," he began, "you're interfering again at school." "Mrs. Parker spoke to me, Amy. You have to stop helping, when it isn't wanted," said Christy. "But I was only trying to be helpful." "I know my sweet one. You have to understand that some of your fellow classmates are ashamed that they are not as quick as you are. They don't learn things as fast as you do. When you help them, it's like rubbing their noses in the dirt, and they resent it. Mrs. Parker doesn't want their feelings to be hurt. She doesn't want to hurt you, either. She knows that you mean well, but it has to stop, Amy. You must do your work, and yours alone. These children are your friends and playmates. If you hurt them, they won't want to play with you or be your friend anymore. Let Mrs. Parker teach them. She has her special ways of helping them, my wee one." "Amy, when you are older you can be a junior teacher. But for now, my sweet, do your work. If you finish early, ask Mrs. Parker for something to read. It will all work out, Amy. I promise," said Christy. "Amy looked at Christy and then at Neil. "I suppose it will, Momma. Oh bother." Christy smiled at Amy's choice of words. Charlotte had sent her a copy of A.A. Milne's "Winnie-the Pooh" from England. Amy loved the story, and "oh bother" had become her newest, favorite phrase. Her youngest kissed them both and then skipped back into the cabin. Christy moved closer to Neil and put her head on his chest. He lovingly kissed her temple. She sighed with contentment. He continued to smoke his pipe as they listened to the sounds of the night. End of Chapter Four Disclaimer: The story of Christy belongs to the Marshall-LeSourd Family. This fiction is written for my own personal enjoyment. This story uses themes from the book, CBS series and the PAX movies. Title: "The MacNeill's" Part Six/Chapter Five "Amelia Jean MacNeill" ....................................................... Amelia Jean MacNeill surveyed her new room. It was painted white. Momma had made curtains out of pink gingham fabric that Gamma had sent her. She had a small desk from her old school at the Mission. Poppa had built her a bookcase and she had three shelves just for her dolls and her stuffed lamb and teddy bear. She had a colorful quilt on her bed that had lots of pink fabrics. Amy loved the color pink. She was getting used to the new house. It was bigger than their cabin and brighter too. Catherine had her own room as well. Sometimes when it thundered Amy would run into Cat's room and cuddle with her. She missed having her older sister in the same room. Catherine, though, enjoyed her privacy. She was getting letters from Luke at least twice a week, and wouldn't share them with anyone, not even Momma. Amy got into a lot of trouble with Poppa and Momma when she tried to sneak a peak at one of Catherine's letters. School was different than the Mission school. There were more teachers, not just one for the whole school. At first some of the children weren't very nice, some said mean things. There was one girl in particular who didn't like her . The girls's name was Hannah, and she had been the prettiest girl in the class until Amy arrived. Momma tried to explain that sometimes girls were jealous. Amy had a hard time figuring out why Hannah would be jealous of her, not realizing that many of the boys in her class thought she was prettier than Hannah. Momma was busy fixing up the house. She seemed to be pleased with the way things looked. Gamma and Grandpa shipped Grammy's furniture and china. The dining room furniture fit perfectly with one leaf in the table. There were doors separating the parlor from the dining room. The table had a total of four leaves. If all of them were put in the table, it would extend all the way into the parlor. Christy had filled the glass cabinet with the lovely Wedgewood China. Momma had called the pattern Golden Ivy. Amy thought it was pretty with its yellow leaves and swirls. Poppa was pleased to watch Momma fuss, he was happy to see that she was enjoying herself. Christy was pleased. The children were adapting to school. It helped them to know that Mrs. Parker was teaching there. She was a talisman for them. Christy had been worried about Amy Jean at first, adjusting to new surroundings. Her daughter had quelled her habit of trying to be a teacher's helper, knowing most of the answers. Moira had indicated that there was another "princess" in Amy's class. Moira came to visit in the afternoon to share a cup of tea with Christy. "You will never believe what happened at recess today," she said. "Only one girl in the class has made it difficult for Amelia. Her name is Hannah Collins. She has been the belle of the class until now. Amy arrived and has proved to be competition and Hannah has done her best to torment Amy on the sly. But, your daughter is smart and resilient. She's had to be, with four older brothers. She may love lace and ribbons, Christy, but she can shimmy up a tree with the best of them." Christy laughed in agreement. Moira continued. "Apparently at recess today the boys in her class had a spitting contest." "Oh dear," said Christy. "Don't tell me..." "Oh yes," said Moira. "Amelia approached the boys in her blue ruffled dress and pinafore. Her hair was perfect today, Christy, with braids and ribbons." "It took me forever, this morning," said Christy. "Amy kept squirming!" "Well she asked the boys what they were doing, and at first the boys didn't answer her. Hannah was watching her with jealousy. Well, Christy, Amy smiled her sweetest smile, just like yours. No boy could resist her. Johnny Lee Brown told her they were having a spitting contest." "I had to walk away, because I knew what was coming. I could still hear what the children were saying." "Really,?" said Amy. "Who's ahead?" "I am," said Tyrell Banks. "Good for you," said Amy. "Can I try?" "You're a girl." "Yes I am," said Amy. "So what." "Girls can't spit," said Tyrell. "Yes they can," said Amy. "No they can't." "Yes they can." "No they can't." "Can." "Can't." "Can." "Prove it," said Tommy Marks, who thought Amelia Jean MacNeill was just the prettiest thing this side of heaven, much to Hannah's dismay. "Agreed?" asked Tyrell. "Agreed," said Amy. "You go first. Of course, poor Tyrell had no idea that Amy had learned the art of spitting by watching her two brothers, masters in the art, Ian and Sean. Tyrell stepped up to the challenge, and gave it his best shot. Amy then stepped up to the mark. She made eye contact with every boy in the semi-circle. She smiled her special smile, and fluttered her lashes, and then proceeded to spit almost two feet farther than Tyrell! "Let's do it again," he said belligerently. "Oh no, I can't. If my Momma ever found out that I'd spit in public, she'd be very unhappy and angry with me. Tyrell, don't ever think that girls are weak, we're able to do lots of things," she said sweetly. Hannah heard Amy's comment about Christy finding out. She made sure that their teacher knew about it. When Moira joined Clementine to tell her, they laughed, as did the rest of the teachers. They all knew it was incorrect behavior but privately they were all pleased to hear that Tyrell had been taken down by a mere slip of a girl. Christy and Moira had a good laugh. "She takes after me, Moira." "I can see that." "Really?" "Oh yes. That girl has spunk. And she's gotten the batting of her eyelashes down pat." "Do I bat my eyes that often?" "You'd be surprised, Christy." "Really?" "Really. Just ask Neil." They both laughed. "I have to go, Christy. I"ve really missed our teas." "So have I, Moira." "We'll just have to do it more often, Christy." "I agree." As Moira departed, Christy shook her head in disbelief. A spitting contest? Oh Amy! I can't wait to tell your Poppa. Later that night, well after the children were asleep, Christy told Neil. His laughter thundered through the house. The End of Chapter Five Title: "The MacNeill's" Part Six/Chapter Six "Amelia Jean MacNeill" ................................................. Saturday, September 19, 1942 Dear Momma and Poppa, I hope that my letter will find you both well. I am fine. I caught a little cold, Poppa, but I am feeling better now. Thank you for the care package. The molasses cookies were simply wonderful, as were the corn muffins. I am hoarding the jar of blackberry jam, Momma. I am not sharing it with anyone but my closest friends. You would both be very proud of me. I got an "A" on my first creative writing paper. I chose to do it on herbal remedies, Poppa. Our long walks and talks, Momma, with Granny Barclay, Mrs. O'Teale and Mrs. McHone were worth something to me. See, Momma I did pay attention. I wanted to write about a topic that I knew well. I distributed the chamomile leaves so that everyone could brew themselves a cup of tea. I think my professor was pleased with that extra touch. We had to read our papers in front of the other students. I was not nervous about speaking in front of the class. Everyone thinks I have a charming Southern accent. I have felt prejudice here. Almost everyone comes from wealthy families. There are a few of us who came from moderate incomes. I am not ashamed of my roots. On the contrary, Poppa, I boast about my Scottish ancestors. A few of these Yankees can trace their families back to the Mayflower. We go way back all the way to Bonnie Prince Charlie! Have you heard from the boys? I do not expect them to write to me, but I would like to hear how they are doing. I know that their letters are censored, they cannot tell us where they are stationed, but still, I would like to know that they are "safe." As of any one can be safe during a war. At least I get to see Ned and Emily and their two munchkins. Catriona is a tiny love, and Ned Jr. is growing like a weed. Do not be jealous, Momma. I am sending photographs with this letter. Emily has been like a big sister to me. She knows that I get homesick sometimes. Speaking of sisters, how is Catherine? I know she has her hands full with John and little Julia. I received a letter from Fiona. She says her little David is talking like a magpie. I know that she really misses Charlie. I wonder where they will finally settle down? I would not be surprised if it is in Kentucky. You know how much Charlie loves horses, but then, he has always loved his animals. Poppa, you mentioned that you were writing a new article for part of a paper being published by St. Timothy's. Is it finished yet? Has Dr. Wade recovered from his hernia surgery? Please keep me posted. I have to stop for now. I am going to meet Emily for lunch in Philadelphia. Her mother is watching the children for her. Ned is in New York. He was asked to participate in some kind of medical forum. He is to read his latest research paper. He is really moving ahead, Poppa, from what Emily says. I think though, that he is firmly rooted, thanks to the two of you. Saturday Evening Momma, Poppa! You will never guess who we met at the restaurant. Geoffrey Grantland!!! After all these years. He was with a group of his friends. He goes to Penn, right here in Philadelphia. Imagine that! He is only ten miles away from Bryn Mawr. Geoff's a sophomore. Can you believe it? Emily and I were being escorted to our table. Emily always looks so posh. I think that I looked fairly presentable. I could feel the eyes of the young men following us as we passed their table. I was seated in such a way, that I faced their table. I refused to make eye contact; well let me say that I tried desperately not to make eye contact. Anyway, somehow I must have batted my eyelashes, for immediately following that action, one of the you men stood up and walked over to our table. "Amelia Jean MacNeill?" he asked with a question in his voice. "Yes," I answered, staring at him and then recognizing him with incredulity in my voice. "Geoffrey Grantland?" I asked. He took my hand gallantly and kissed it. It was so much more refined than the back slapping hug I wanted to give him, especially for a place like Bookbinder's. I introduced him to Emily. I told him Ned was an eye surgeon at Jefferson. He asked me if I was just visiting. I told him that I was a freshman at Bryn Mawr. He seemed genuinely pleased and asked for my address. Imagine that! He then rejoined his friends. I filled in the blanks for Emily, telling her that we grew up with the Grantland's until the Mission closed. Well I must say that our luncheon was delicious. I had chowder and crab cakes and a scrumptious fruit tart for dessert. I tried keeping my attention in the conversation with Emily. But quite frankly, Momma, I sat there trying not to stare at Geoffrey's table, with my insides bursting. Every once in a while Emily gave me a quizzical look. I know she has never seen Ruby Mae bursting with juicy gossip and no one to tell it to. That's just what I felt like. I couldn't wait to come home and write to you. I wonder if he will contact me? I hope so. I would love to hear about what has happened to Ruth and Samuel. I hope Uncle David and Aunt Miranda are well. It's such a small world. I wonder what our friends would think if we were to greet one another with a Cove hoop and holler. It would probably shake their shoes off. Don't mind me, I just cannot stand people who put on airs. If it is one thing you have both taught me, it is despise pretension. I see so much of that here. But enough; I am not complaining, and I have more than enough work to keep me busy. I look forward to seeing you both at Thanksgiving. It will be bittersweet, with the boys away. Do you think Catherine will come in from Knoxville? She probably will, although she may feel it her duty to have dinner with the Parker's. If she does that, then you must insist that she come for Christmas, Poppa. Listen to me, Miss Bossypants! Oh how I miss you both, and how you must miss all of us. Or maybe instead you shout Hallelujah every morning because you no longer have noisy children in the house? Momma, now that you can drive, are you ever at home? Imagine, I had to hear from Emily, that you had learned to drive. Poppa, why didn't you tell me in your last letter? Emily had be laughing in stitches when she told me today. Only you, Momma, could purchase your license for fifty cents from the town clerk, and then learn to drive. You are amazing. Poppa, how did you manage to keep your temper in check, while you taught Momma to drive? Emily said that you bought a used Packard. Do you like the car? I hope to get my license as well. You need to have a car in places like this. Momma, did you learn to drive so that you could your grandchildren in Knoxville and Asheville? I think that I have bombarded you both with enough questions for now. I have to get up early for the Sunday services. I have to study for a literature test on Thursday. It has taken all of my powers of concentration to read "Beowulf." If you receive this letter before Thursday, please say a prayer for me. Write soon!! All my love, always, Amy Jean .................................................................... September 21, 1942 Monday afternoon Dear Momma and Poppa, How good of you both to write so soon. I love to get your letters. They are so full of news from home. The gingerbread is delicious. I do share it with a few of my friends. I am not that greedy. Besides, Momma, if I ate all of the goodies you send me in your care packages just by myself, I would put on twenty pounds by now. I do not mind sharing with my friends. Yesterday, I had a visit from Geoffrey in the afternoon. He loved the gingerbread. He said it brought back a wealth of happy memories. He was glad that his childhood took place in Cutter Gap. He claims it gave him a real solid foundation in faith and an appreciation of what was really important in life. He was rejected for military service because of a pierced eardrum. You would understand the medical reasons, Poppa, perhaps you can enlighten me in a future letter. Oh, by the way, Momma, Geoffrey said he would appreciate it if you could send him some blackberry cobbler. I am including his address in this letter. Of course, I told he was really indulging in wishful thinking. Poppa would never allow a pan of cobbler to leave the house unless he accompanied it with a fork in his hand. Geoffrey laughed in agreement. Am I right, Poppa, do you think? So, may I ask this question; now that the MacNeill's have a car, how are you getting by with gas rationing? Don't trips to Asheville and Knoxville use up the coupons? Do you have three gallon or five gallon coupons? I hear some of the girls complaining about having to do without. They have no concept really of what it is like to do without. They are lamenting about the fact that they can only purchase one pair of shoes. When I think back to all those children in Cutter Gap who grew up without shoes, I get annoyed at the girls who complain. There I go again, on my soapbox! I have a nickname among my friends. I am the "Little Rebel". Of course the fact that I am a "Southern Belle" among all these Yankees makes the nickname apropos, don't you think? Speaking of ration cards, Momma have you had to use any yet for sugar and flour? Geoffrey was in stitches when I told him about your secret stash. I tried to explain to him the absolute chaos of last Christmas. Who would have thought that a dead field mouse would cause such an uproar? I tried to describe to Geoffrey how we all tried to figure out where that horrible smell was coming from inside the house. Then Ned, Poppa and Charlie decided to remove the French doors between the dining room and parlor. How you complained and argued, Momma, and carried on so. Until we discovered the hidden space in the wall where you had stored the extra flour and sugar. Oh Momma, I still laugh when I see you tapping your foot and that haughty ‘don't you dare say a single word' expression on your face. Fifty pounds of flour and forty pounds of sugar! Did you have a flash of intuition then that there would be rationing during this war? Then the boys found the dead mouse in between the ceiling and the second floor and removed the offending rodent. Christmas was certainly bittersweet, knowing the boys would be joining the service; but that incident certainly gave us cause for a good laugh. To answer your questions, Poppa-- I did well on my Beowulf test. We had to write an essay. Now we are moving on to Chaucer. I am going to have to write to Aunt Miranda. I know that she loved reading Chaucer. I am dong well in Mathematics, but them I always loved working with numbers. I am enjoying my classes and the time flows by quickly. I know that I will benefit from this education, but sometimes, most times, I wish I were back home in the mountains. I have to stop writing now. I must make my way to the dining hall. It's time for dinner. I'll drop this in the mail tomorrow. My love to you both! All my love, always, Amy Jean September 30, 1942 Wednesday Dear Momma and Poppa, Geoffrey invited me to attend a Harvest Moon Dance at Penn. I was thrilled to receive his invitation. Some of my friends are jealous. I am not sure what to do. We are friends from childhood, but the intervening years ....how have they changed us? I am unsure, and I hate being indecisive!! I'm not trying to be coy, Momma, I'm just not sure what to do. Any suggestions, Momma? All my love, always, Amy Jean October 8, 1942 Thursday Dear Momma. Thank you for answering my short note. You asked me if I was excited at Geoffrey's invitation. Yes, I am. You asked me if I had an appropriate dress to wear. Yes, I do. You asked me if Geoffrey makes me feel special. Yes, he does! Then you told me to follow my instincts, and I will. I have always liked him, and we were good friends as children. I will go to the dance, Momma, and I will have a good time, I promise. I wish that you were here to hug me. I miss our talks, Momma. We'll be chattering like magpies in a few weeks, catching up on everything. I promise I'll write and tell you all about the dance. I love you! All my love, always. Amy Jean October 8, 1942 Thursday Dear Poppa, I cannot believe what you wrote as advice, Poppa! We're talking about Geoffrey Grantland, not Jack the Ripper. He's my friend, Poppa, a very good friend from childhood. You taught him how to hunt and fish, for goodness sake. I am not going to remind him that you have a shotgun, and that you know how to shoot it with expertise. I am sure he remembers that. I am not going to tell him that you are a surgeon and know how to inflict pain. And I certainly am not going to tell him that Ned has your permission to act in your place, since he is my eldest brother. You are incorrigible, Poppa, but I love you anyway. You are the best father in the whole wide world. My friends were laughing in stitches when I read them your note. I love you to pieces, Poppa!! All my love, always, Amy Jean End of Chapter Six *See Author's Note in "The MacNeills Conclusion"