8th Grade Short Story

Strawberry

by Katie P.

Maurice had been out in the garden for hours now. So many hours, that the sun was on the edge of setting already. The golden light reflected off of Maurice’s golden shoulder-length hair, which was tucked behind her ear to keep it from getting in the way of gardening. Her white linen dress she was wearing, flowed right below her knees, and was not so white anymore, as it was stained with the pink and blue hues from the smushed berries. The clouds rolled in right after the golden light of the sun had disappeared, it was starting to get late. Maurice was still out and about the garden, trotting around with a big smile, carrying her favorite woven basket (which her Grandma Margaret had made for her).

It was 9pm, and now as black as burnt coal outside; her grandparents, Grandma Margaret and Grandpa Darryl shouted for her to come inside. Maurice hurried back to the old, wooden cottage, and stumbled on inside, gently shutting the door behind her. The smell of lemon cookies and green tea filled the atmosphere, and the steam of the tea made the room humid.

¨Hey Grandma and Grandpa!¨ Maurice exclaimed with a big smile, ¨Look at how many berries I picked today!¨ Maurice added, while berries spilled on the floor from the overflowed basket.

¨ Wow!¨ Grandpa shouted, but as he looked down at the floor and saw all of the smushed berries, he said ¨Just make sure to clean up after yourself, you've made a mess!¨

Grandma chuckled as she helped Maurice clean up the floor, and then headed towards the teapot to pour a cup of green tea for everyone. After finishing the cup of tea, Maurice went to her grandmother's rocking chair. The funny thing is, she was too short to hop onto it by herself, and when she did, her feet wouldn't touch the floor! Her grandma chuckled, and suddenly shed a few tears of happiness.

Maurice headed to her room for bed shortly after. Her room was a medium size, with baby pink walls, and sheets with strawberry designs on them. Maurice loved strawberries, the taste, the looks, the smell, everything about them! Her grandparents were around home most of the time, but when they weren't, strawberries were the only thing that made Maurice feel less lonely...

Twelve years had passed, Maurice's hair had grown out long - to the point where the ends of her hair past her shoulders. She stood alone in the cottage, still holding her woven basket in her right hand, which was now worn down. She sat down in her grandmother's rocking chair, now that she was big enough to touch her feet to the floor. Maurice looked out the window and stared at the garden, specifically the section where the strawberries used to be. At this point, it had been about 8 months since both of her grandparents passed away from the sickness that ran in her family.

Even though almost a year has passed, she can't move on, especially since she still has to live in the same cottage. Sitting in that chair, her memories are replaying in her head of how she loved that garden growing up, but now she can't even look at it without crying. Those words of, “come inside it's getting late”, were so hated by her, but now she feels remorse for taking them for granted. Her tear rolled down her cheek, almost mimicking the rain outside. The sound of the rain repelling off the metal gutters and the sound of the tea kettle screeching filled her head. Not able to look away from the window, she focused on the reflection looking back at her.

A small bell rang, indicating that someone was at the door. The ring woke up Maurice from her daydreaming. She rushed to the door and quickly opened it, not even peeking through the peephole.

No one was there, but a large cardboard box with holes engraved and an envelope on top was sitting on the porch. Confused, Maurice picked up the envelope, tearing the top off immediately and read what was inside. On the small, nicely decorated card, there was a strawberry pattern on the outside and the writing was a fancy cursive. She recognized that writing, it was her grandmother. Even more confused she took a deep breath and began reading it.

Dear Maurice,

Hello Honey, if you are reading this letter, it means that Grandpa and I are no longer with you. When you relieve this letter, it should come with a box, especially for you. Be careful with it and take good care of it, it was a special gift from me and grandpa. Open it now and read the rest of the letter after...

Maurice's tears ran down her face once again, making the letter soggy. She closed the letter, and followed Grandma's instruction.

Before even opening it, the box wiggled from side to side, and a quiet bark was heard.

*Maurice yaps* ¨Could it be a dog?¨ Her eyes widened as she hurried to open it.

She unfolded the cardboard flaps on top in a way that was slow but abrupt. The sound of a collar tag clanging and cardboard scratching was loud, followed by another faint bark. A small golden retriever with big paws, a small long snout, and big eyes fell into Maurice’s arms, making them heavy. Maurice’s eyes twinkled as the excitement, as well as melancholy filled her heart. She looked at the dog and smiled; she then moved.

¨Surprise Maurice! There is your new little friend so you won't feel alone in the cottage. Take very special care of him! In the pantry there should be a cardboard box labeled ¨For Maurice¨ with all the things you need to take care of the dog! Also...read the collar, I think you may like the name :)

Stay safe in this cruel world, sweetie.

Love,

Grandma and Grandpa

She closed the letter once again, and this time she smiled! She was so excited about getting a dog for the first time! She carried the dog in one arm - since it was so small - and brought it inside onto the couch. She did what Grandma had written (look at the collar). She sat next to the dog and lifted up his chin to see his name.

¨Strawberry¨ was written in large bold cursive letters which enthralled Maurice as strawberries were something she cherished. Once again she gives Strawberry a glance before taking her inside the cottage. She walked to the kitchen to follow Grandma’s instructions, and following was the sound of Strawberries' big paws scratching the wooden floors . Maurice had gotten the box from the pantry, which had food and supplies to take care of Strawberry. She had unpacked everything, and fed the dog. It was pretty late that night, so Maurice was headed for bed. She walked up stairs and Strawberry slowly waddled up there too.

Some time had passed. Maurice had walked outside with Strawberry almost everyday, even if it was just to the mailbox! Strawberry slowly grew as he barely reached the age of 3 months. He had big hazel eyes, a pink spotted nose (almost like a strawberry), and a small fluffy golden tail. His fur was quite practically the same color as Maurice's hair, even reflecting in the sunlight the same way.

As Maurice was cleaning up in the kitchen later that day, she accidentally knocked over a box in the pantry labeled ¨Maurice¨. She had no clue what it was - but her name on the front enticed her to open it. A white cloth peaked through the small opening at the top. Confused, Maurice had decided to pull it and see what it was. Her white linen, pink stained dress from when she was around the age of five unveiled.

Maurice gasped. ¨I completely forgot about this” “….a-a-and the garden too!¨, as she looked directly at the berry stains.

She ran to that same window overlooking her grandparents garden, seeing tall grown out weeds, brown leaves, dry soil, dead flowers, rotten fruits...she fell to the ground.

¨Oh why! Why did I let this happen?” She groaned.

Strawberry waddled over to her and licked her face to try to cheer her up. Maurice pat Strawberry´s head and said ¨You know what Strawberry, Grandma and Grandpa would be devastated if they saw this poor garden today, lets fix it up.¨

So like that, Maurice woke up the next morning, gathering those old gardening tools from the garage no one had touched in years. The garage was musty - spider webs filled each corner, rust concealed the tools, and the floors were filled with a pile of dust. Maurice sighed heavily and exclaimed ¨This is a mess too, yet it's not as important as the garden¨.

She sprinted to the back door and kicked it open. The sun was beating down on Strawberry and Maurice. Strawberry was a smart dog, and understood what Maurice was doing, in fact; he stayed next to her the whole time, and at times, he even tugged the weeds with his teeth. She relapsed into the feeling of her being five years old, having that short golden hair, wearing that stained white linen dress; and those late nights where her grandma would holler for her to get inside to have evening tea before bed.

Maurice couldn't let her emotion get the best of her now, she had to keep working. Hours and hours went by as her and Strawberry tugged weeds, renewed the soil, planted seeds, and raked the orange crispy leaves, almost the same color as the evening sun. A white spotlight shone down over the garden, and a cool breeze hollowed through the surrounding forest - indicating the nighttime. Maurice rushed inside and fed Strawberry his dog food, and then quickly headed to bed to start working again in the early morning.

The next few mornings for the next two weeks consisted of Maurice and Strawberry waking up at a bright and early morning. The birds chirped and the crisp air of the autumn season made the morning chilly. Little by little, the seeds from the soil spurted up into green staffs, and the flowers opened like umbrellas. The berries turned into small little dots of blues and reds between the bush leaves, while the fountain standing in the middle of the garden began to spit out water from the top again. Maurice repainted the fence to an auroral white, causing the colors of all the crops to pop.

Up from her bedroom window she overlooked the completed garden, the fully bloomed rouge roses, the bright blue perfect blueberries, and the nicely arranged plants which lined the inside of the fence. She shed a tear of happiness as she completed her goal - to make Grandma and Grandpa proud.

Maurice’s hair grew even longer, and Strawberry was on the verge of reaching 12 months of age. Strawberry stood tall with long fluffy golden ears, a big pink nose, and wide hazel eyes that were so beautiful, yet consequently resembled a keen side of Strawberry.

“I-I-I can’t believe it Strawberry!” Maurice excitedly spit out. “You're almost a one year old.” Strawberry barked out loud, and wagged his tail. Maurice grabbed his coral leash and started to take him on a walk. She took him to a special place, one where she can thank Grandma and Grandpa once again. She held her roses that she had harvested herself from the garden, and walked up to Grandma Margaret's and Grandpa Darrell's grave, where she sat down, placing the roses neatly on top.