Serial Part 3

Time for the next installment of the serial I started a great many years ago. The book club I founded was inspired loosely speaking by this story that I was playing with for years before I started an actual book club. That said, it was very loosely inspired, the fiction book club and the real one bear no resemblance to each other. They weren’t and aren’t supposed to. The characters in this story are not based on real people and any coincidences are just that, coincidences. I post this here in hopes that once I get to the end of what I have written I will continue working on it. It has been go and stop for years. I have trouble finishing the things I start writing. Hoping if I am sharing it here, it will force me to work on it regularly till I reach a place that is a natural end. I warn you I am dyslexic and this is as always a rough draft by a very poor writer with severe dyslexia. Read at your own risk.

It lay in the mail box, with a bunch of spam. It was the only thing addressed to her. Sonnet, gathered up the mail from the box on the side of the house, and brought it inside. She dumped it on the heap of mail that Jared, would receive when he returned once he got out of prison in another ninety days. She couldn’t recall ever receiving any mail at this address. The last thing she recalled getting was the invite to her foster sister’s wedding that took place at a vinyard in Northern California…. Back before Leonie, was born…. So eight and a half years ago now… She didn’t know too many people on this side of the country even after spending the last eight years here…

Sonnet, kept her distance, she did the pleasantries and then she was on her way. She was a rather self sufficient person. It was just her way. Safer not to get attached. Not uncommon for a kid in foster care. Which is where she had spent her whole life after her sixteen year old mother had jumped from the golden gate bridge only six weeks after her birth. She had been through one home after another growing up. In one, she had been the only child. In another she was one of eight and it was on a farm. That was her favorite memory. She had had a favorite barn cat. Her house job was collecting eggs from the chickens. But like all homes it had been short lived… Another home had been in the city, near a movie theater. That had been cool in her early teens to just walk out the front door and go a few feet to the right and find yourself at the theater… So many homes… Some with nice people… Some with some pretty scary pieces of work. Sonnet, stopped herself. She did not want to remember the ugly things from the past that made her skin crawl and her soul recoil in horror even to this day.

She dumped Jared’s junk on the pile then focused on the envelope addressed to her. It was kind of heavier than a typical envelop should be… She turned it over to see a wax seal held it shut. A beautiful letter R, had been forced into the wax, which was a black and silver. She realized then, there was a soft scent emanating from the envelope… Someone had put in a lot of care… It smelled delightfully of ocean mist and lilacs with a hint of exotic rich vanilla. She looked at the address again, the lettering was absolutely beautiful somehow old fashioned, like caligraphy, but not the cheap caligraphy you might see on junk mail trying to be convincing. No, the hand that wrote this was expert and human not a computer printer… Who would send her something so fine?

Sonnet, sniffed the envelope again and put it down on the table. She stared at it. She checked the name on it again, and then again, and once more. Until finally curiosity got the best of her. She slid her thumb under the folded over point of the envelope taking great pains not to damage the beautiful very old style caligraphy letter R in the black and silver wax. The smell was a hint stronger now and she could detect a light fragrance of lemony earthy greenness also. She reached in and down at the bottom her hand found it. A small object wound in old paper that had been tied with a black and silver ribbon. She put the small object wrapped in paper down on the table and stared at it. What the hell was this? Who would send her something? Finally after looking at it large eyed for some time thinking and rethinking what to do in a sudden burst of activity she untied the bow of the ribbon and pulled it off. She unwrapped the paper. Inside, was a very old skeleton key on a silver chain. She held it up and looked at how aged it was. It was absolutely beautiful. But who would be sending her jewelry? She put down the paper and picked up the envelope again checking the name and address to make sure. It really was for her…

Sonnet, lifted the old piece of paper which upon it’s aged face, held the beautiful scrawl of an old quill pen and caligraphy. It read:

“The The Rebel Readers Wish To Make Your Aquaintance, Sonnet, at our book discussion scheduled for when the flower moon is full. We meet at Black Rock Farm in the town of Cranberry village.” Included was an address for the farm.

“Our Book of the month is The Birth House by Ami Mckay. You are to be ready to discuss it with us at 7 pm on the night of the full flower moon.

This is a secret club, to which few are ever invited. Someone, thought you were special so an invitation has been offered to you. Your key, is your pass to attend. Bring Macaroon cookies with you. Everyone brings something.

Speak of this invitation, this event, and club to no one. By issuing you an invite, we are risking a great deal to meet you… In over 200 years, no one from outside this club has known of it’s existence except it’s members, and a small hand full of the invited who may not have been a fit but were at least classy enough to keep our secret. It may be by the waning of the flower moon that you too belong to the Sisterhood of The Rebel Readers. Memorize the time date and address, then destroy this invitation.” It was signed by just a first name, Rose.

Sonnet held the key blinking in shock… What in the name of all that is holy sacred, pure and fictitious she thought. She looked down, but there it was, in beautiful caligraphy still looking up at her, smelling positively delicious….

Rose… Who the hell was Rose? Sonnet, didn’t know anyone named Rose… Macaroons? Oh right the french cookies… They wanted her to bake a pretencious french cookie… Right cuz she had so much time to practice over and over while managing the seven year old that was presently at school…. They’ll get chocolate chip cookies Sonnet decided. If they don’t like them they can just refuse me membership. Because, who doesn’t want to be part of a secret society when the invite smells positively glorious? Sonnet, memorized the date time and location, and shredded the beautiful document sadly, almost crushed to be destroying such a work of art. The first object that had made her feel wanted in her entire life… She put the chain with the key round her neck and checked the time before throwing on her coat and heading out to pick up Leonie. On her walk to the school, once again her mind wandered… She had 90 days to get out of her house, she had to be long gone when Jared got out. Where would she go she wondered. It wasn’t like she had much money to work with… What about somewhere with green grass? Room for Leonie, to play… Maybe a chicken coop like the one she had known so briefly as a little girl.

She stood in front of the school as the bell sounded and the doors burst open and children came rushing out. She collected Leonie, and headed home to feed her a snack and go over her homework. “Hey, baby!” Sonnet called out as Leonie, threw herself at her. “What did they teach you today?” The walk home, was filled with the chatter of a happy seven year old, talking about the latest mathematics they had learned in school and about how in science class, the teacher had told them that they were all originally monkeys, like chimps… It wasn’t that simple, but it was age appropriate for Leonie, to be introduced to the subject this way Sonnet thought to herself as she listened to her daughter prattling on all the way home.