# Not Titled Yet



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Story that I am working on. Side note: It's supposed to sound a little off. The view is from someone.... southernish.





Once upon a time Magdalene gave birth to a baby boy and the town rejoiced. Well, that is how it was supposed to go. But Magdalene Harrison did not get her happy ending as she had wished. You see.... or should I say it all started? It all started when Magdalene was born, I guess. Her father was a Harrison, of the Biloxi Harrisons. Of course it was originally Harris but Franklin Harris, Magdalene's great grandfather, didn't think it sounded dignified enough. Poor Miss Magdalene must of sent him rolling his grave. Anyway, her father was Richard Montgomery Harrison of Biloxi, Mississippi and her mother was Victoria Pershing. I believe Victoria once told me her father was a General, but he never came around.


The day Magdalene was born was a good one. Richard and Victoria had been trying to have a baby for nearly six years. So the only thing that could have made that day better is if that baby had been a boy. But when Victoria was handed that baby, all wrapped up in one of her best linen, she couldn't have been happier. Richard took it all in stride. I assume it was because he knew now that Victoria could have children. For awhile there were whispers around that she couldn't and that Richard had married wrong. So a daughter didn't come out bad in the end.


Magdalene was given her grandmother's name on her father's side. She was Magdalene Virginia Pershing Harrison and the name fit her well. She was born with hair the color of a chestnut horse, rich and brown-red, eyes the color of autumn oak leaves. By the time she was walking her hair hung to her shoulders in bright little ringlets. She made her momma proud. 


When Magdalene was four her mother gave her a sister, Margaret. Richard blamed Victoria for birthing another girl and the distance grew. But Miss Magdalene dressed her up like a doll and pushed her around in her pram. Margaret nearly died of exposure when Magdalene pushed her out the door and her momma couldn't find her. If it wouldn't have been for a surprise visit from the neighbor that baby wouldn't have made it.


Victoria gave birth to a set of twins, a boy and a girl, only a year later. Richard promptly named the boy after himself. Victoria called the baby girl Olivia. Olivia was born small and she stayed that way. Those twins marked the end of Victoria's baby birthing days. After they came along you'd have to look good and hard to find Victoria and Richard closer than I could spit. Some people gossiped that Victoria became depressed after the twins were born. But I knew that Victoria loved them babies and the real reason was because she had caught Richard doing something unspeakable. 



Magdalene grew up with very little attention from her parents. Truth speaking, the only person who paid her real mind was the horse-master. Richard raised carriage horses along his plantation. Well bred, high headed and quick stepping horses that pulled dignitaries to balls and what not. Magdalene spent most of her days brushing the horses. Her mother hated her eldest spending time with horses instead of practicing her needle work. Her father ignored everything that didn't have to do with his business or his son. 



When Magdalene was thirteen a mare went into foal. Magdalene had snuck out of her window and down the side of the veranda to stay and watch. The mare gave birth to a colt. On his face sat the marking of a bird in flight. For Magdalene it was love at first sight. For the foal just wanted to suckle.


----------



## free_sprtd (Oct 18, 2007)

I like it so far! a little off beat, but fun to read  

good job, keep going!


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Chapter 1:

I was born from a Drover and a young Spaniard girl he took one night on his way through. I was as unwanted as unwanted could get. The moment I stopped nursing off my mama she left. Just sat me on a chair, on a store front, and walked away. I don't remember those days. It was said that someone saw her do it. I climbed off the chair and started to waggle my way to the horses tied up when a stranger snatched me up. That stranger was a Ms Lydia Dowery. She knew my mama and she saw her leave me. Ms Lydia had ever intention of taking me back but my momma was never heard from again. Ms Lydia didn't even recall my name. 

At first her husband, Mr Joseph Dowery, was adamant that I be taken to an orphanage. Ms Lydia had never had kids and she told him this would be her only chance. So they took me in. 

For years we lived on the edge of a town. My job was to take in the carriage and stock horses that belonged to passerbys. Feed them, bed them and put them away dry. I wasn't a day over six when pa gave me the job. 

That was the year a man came searching. He was looking for someone who knew how to care for horses. How to train them. He was to met someone at the hotel. With him he had brought a stunning grey English horse of about two years old. Word got around that he would hire the man he had come for if he could saddle and ride that horse in two days.

The horse was called Tempeter and I bedded him well. He rewarded me by blowing dust from the stall front into my hair. He was nice to look at and I had to be called in to eat dinner from wanting to stay with him.

The next morning the man came from the hotel. He stood upright and carried himself like a proper Englishmen. A short man followed him in carrying his tack. Behind him came the Master from Oleander Manor. 

The man took the colt out into our turn out. He had the short man hold him while he put the saddle on. As soon as he tugged the belly strap up the horse burst into a rear so high I thought he would topple. The man took the lead rope from the short man and pulled the horse down. With a snort the horse stood. As soon as he stood the man went after him with the whip. Lash after lash, blow after blow. The horse backed away from him blindly but without relent. Tempeter pulled back to where I was standing. I could see the fear in his eyes. He didn't understand, he just wanted to get away.

The man let him stand again. He shook all over. The shorter man brought out a bridle. The horse started away and the man raised the whip. My pa hollered from the water pump. It was the voice he used when he meant something. 

Everyone stopped. My pa came in the pin and took the lead away from the Englishman. With a flick of his wrist he planted that man on the ground. The man stood looking astonished and pride hurt. Wiping of his trousers he looked at my pa.

"Excuse me sire!" He squelched.

My pa turned to the man who had stood silently all the while. "I'll have you take your business elsewhere. There will be none of this in my yard."

And that is how my father became the horsemaster for Oleander Manor and one Richard Montgomery Harrison.


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

pretty interesting so far.


----------



## thunderhooves (Aug 9, 2009)

so wait, those are 2 different stories?


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Nope the first is a prologue of sorts. They'll connect. I'll post another section tonight or tomorrow : )


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

I was figuring the boy is the one that marries Magdeline, which I would assume her father would not approve of, since he is the son of a "mere" horsemaster. But I shall wait and see where you go with it!


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

----

The day we moved into the original plantation house was the day I met Magdalene. She watched us curiously, legs swinging from the edge of a Sycamore tree. All I saw was violet drapes of skirt, petticoat and two black penny boots. For a minute I sat there starring up at them boots waiting for them to come down. Pa hollered for me so I shrugged and drug my Ma's rocker toward the house. 

The owner of the boots snickered. I felt my face grow hot but I didn't stop. I heard laughing and I turned around.

"Ya got somefin to laugh about up der?" I hollered.

She laughed again. "No. No. You keep on pulling that chair. Go on your Pa must'nt wait long for you." 

My jaw dropped. What'd she mean? Hastily I grabbed the rocker and pulled it into the house. Running back outside I grabbed the lowest branch on that Sycamore tree and I started to climb it.

"What are you doing?" She yelped.

"I'm gonna come up der and find out what yer laughing bout." I exclaimed.

Just as I reached the branch she was on my shirt snagged. Cussing, I pulled myself onto the branch. My ma was going to yell at me for that hole. The boot's owner started laughing harder.

"What you laughing at? You got some sorta problem?" I snapped.

"The look on your face.." She blurted as she laughed some more. 

"There ain't nothing funny." I insisted.

She shut up and looked at me. Then she started laughing again. I crunched my face together. My pa told me to never hit anyone but I was right close to it. My fists balled. Then her mama hollered for her. She stopped laughing and looked back at the house. Without saying a word to me she grabbed the branch, swung down and landed on the ground. Then, to add insult, she skipped away. 

I looked at the distance from me to the ground and choose to climb back the way I had come. Which snagged my shirt again. When I reached the ground I heard my pa holler for me again. They were walking over to the new house, the one that had been recently built. Ma waved me over with a frown. I must of had dirt smeared down the front of me. Hanging my head I followed them to where the Harrisons stood. 

"Mr. Harrison, this is my wife Lydia and this is Franky." Pa said.

"Hello." The man said. "This is my wife Victoria and our children. The youngest are Ricky and Olivia, this is Margaret and my oldest is Magdalene."

My eyes shot up to hers. She looked totally bored by everything. Our parents started talking about grown up things and soon enough they shooed us all away. Magdalene immediately started toward the stables. I was inclined to follow. 

She walked right in and straight to Tempester's stall. The big gray stuck out his dumb head and let out a big mouth full of water. It splashed and speckled the bottom of the girl's dress. She giggled and patted the horse's nose.

"Won't your ma get mad at you fer gettin all dirty?" I had to ask.

She startled but didn't turn toward me. "My mama doesn't notice all that much. Does she Temper?" 

"Ohhh.." I sighed as I walked up to her. 

"Isn't he grand?" She asked, looking at me.

"Yes. I think he is just about the grandest horse I've seen." I agreed.

She grew silent as she stroke the horse's nose. I stood there watching the horse nearly nap as she petted him. But I wasn't the quiet type.

"Why'd you laugh at me?" I asked.

"Because you are wearing boy clothes." She said simply. 

"Ohhh.." I said, blushing. "I can't clean stalls in a dress."

She smiled. "You even have a boy's name."

"It's short fer Frances." I exclaimed, feeling even more embarrassed. 

She didn't look at me. "You can call me Maggie."

I smiled. "Call me Franky?"

"Sure." She said and she skipped away.


----------



## thunderhooves (Aug 9, 2009)

so it's a girl? Oh, my. and Franky?Please? It sounded like a guy at first,a nd I liked it that way. WOulda been cute, and you coulda gone far witht that. Oh well, its your story!


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

I have it written two different ways. One with the teller a boy and one with it a girl. I'll write in the boy section tonight and you can tell me which is better.


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

...cool, it can be one of those if you want Frankie to be a boy - go to page 7 books! LOL...

I think it's pretty interesting so far. I couldnt decide what race Frankie, not that it matters, just trying to get my mental image...I'm picturing a little african american girl.


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Lol. I write all my stories with different beginnings and ends. It kind of helps my writers block.


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

that is a good idea. I tend to skip way forward in the book when I get stuck...


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

REVISED (for your pleasure)

She grew silent as she stroked the horse's nose. I stood there watching the horse nearly nap as she petted him. But I wasn't the quiet type.

"Why'd you laugh at me?" I asked.

"Cause you've got a stain on your pants." She said simply.

I tried to bend myself around to see it. She laughed. "It's from cleaning stalls." I mumbled.

She stopped laughing and looked at me. "Why...Aren't you a little small to be cleaning stalls?"

I glared at her. "No. I can manage just fine."

"How old are you?" She insisted.

"Eight." I lied.

"You are awfully scrawny for eight." 

"I am not." I stuttered. "How would you know? You ain't but...what? seven yourself."

She stopped petting the horse. "I'll be eight come December." 

So will I, I thought. "Oh."

We stood there silently for a minute. She gave the horse a handful of hay and then turned to me. "You can call me Maggie."

I blushed. "Call me Franky?"

"Sure." She said and skipped away.

-------------------------------------

Chapter 2


From that day on Magdalene confided in me. If something happened on the Oleander I'd be the first she'd tell. Like when the cook tripped over her mama's new rug and spilled boiling water everywhere. Or when her sister had tied a ribbon on her dogs tail. The tail fell off because she forgot it there. It was always in front of Temper's stall. 

"Why don't you go to school, Franky?" She asked.

"Cause Pa thinks it's a waste." I said, chewing on the end of a jerky.

"Do you know how to read?" 

"A little. Only what Ma shown me." I said, honestly.

"Do you know how to ride?" She said, her eyes searching.

"I been ridden horses fer a very long time. Used to take em out when Pa didn't have the time." 

She glanced away. "Your so lucky."

"What? You never been on a horse?" I asked, shocked.

She shook her head. "My mother would never let me."

I started thinking about how much I would hate that. For her it must of been worse. She truly loved horses. They were as much a part of her as breathing. 

"I tried once. Mother came out and saw me trying to climb on Ithinia's back. That was the only time she ever paddled me. She said her sister was trampled and killed by a horse. She hates me being around them...." Magdalene looked older than her years when she told me that. When she walked to her house and I walked to mine all I could think about was getting her up on a horse.

That night I threw rocks at her window. The clinked softly off the glass. I thought she wouldn't hear me but she did. Her face appeared and then as quick as anything she climbed down the side of the veranda. 

"What is it Franky?" She asked. Not even the slightest out of breath.

"I want to show you something." I told her.

She followed me to the stable. Outside the barn I had tied Donico, the dead headiest swaybacked horse that hit the ground. Magdalene face lit up. She didn't even look the least bit guilty. I pulled a bucket up to the side of him. The old plug just stood there. She got on him as if she had been doing it forever. 

I taught her how to turn and stop him. For hours she rode him around the barn. I just followed along side her. Her face was perfectly peaceful. I really liked it that way. When she was done she helped me put the old horse back and then she made her way back into her window. 

I like to think she went to bed thinking of what I had done for her. But I knew all she could think about was her first ride on that old plug of a horse.


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

I like this version best.


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Chapter 2

That summer was the summer the city made a law which freed all the slaves within the city limits. It was also the summer Mr. Harrison decided he was going raise up cattle. My father was raised on a cattle farm in Australia. He knew a lot about cows.

So when drovers showed up with 400 head of what they said was prime beef, my father scoffed at their skinny hides and snuffed looks. He told Mr. Harrison that it would take a lot of time to get those steers worth something. Mr. Harrison said he had a lot of time. 

Magdalene was amused by them. She petted the wet noses on the calves with as much enthusiasm as if they were Temper. That summer she learned about how babies were made. She saw a bull mount a cow and it made her cry. Magdalene ran all the way back to her house and didn't come out the rest of the day.

There were still crops of cotton growing everywhere. It was still the Oleandar Plantation. Pa said the reason why he had cut the crops down to a fourth of his acreage was because he didn't want to afford the laborers. Instead of completely going into cattle he kept some crops so it would still be a plantation. Because the title plantation meant a lot in Mr. Harrison's world. I guess pa knew what he was talking about.

Along with the cattle came ranch horses, big stocky mustang looking things. None of them were as pretty or refined as the carriage horses. Instead they had smarts and a lot of them. Me and Magdalene would sit on the rail watching pa working the cows with Bronco, his new cow horse. It was probably the most brilliant thing I had ever seen. Pa said Bronco did most of the work. He'd get his head all low and snake the cows back and forth. I wanted to learn to ride like that.

A couple of drovers moved into the old slave quarters. They were the farm hands now and my father was their boss. Tad was a big man with a horse of a color I had never seen before. Her name was Jemima and she was black with white spots on her rear. Then came the brothers, Smoky and Job. They came with Darling, Monterey and Early, they said they were tamed mustangs. I believed them.

------------

One hot summer day Magdalene asked me a question that brought out the past. We were sitting by the creek bed. She was doing her school work and I was tying up a halter for one of the foals. She slowly put the book down and looked at me.

"My mother said that your pa and ma weren't really your parents." She said it just like that. Not a question, more of a statement.

I stopped what I was doing. "They ain't. I don't know my real parents."

"How could you not know your real parents?" She asked, with a confused look.

"My mom left me when I was a baby and everyone said my dad was a drover." I answered, picking up the halter and passing it through my fingers.

"She left you?" Here forehead scrunched up.

"Yea. Nobodys ever seen her since."

"That's awful." She replied.

"No it's not." Suddenly feeling insulted.

She looked away. "What if your dad is Tad?"

I gagged. "Tad is not my dad!"

She started to laugh. I looked at her angrily. Her rosie cheeks pulled up the corner of her eyes as she rolled back into the grass. Suddenly it was funny, as if her silliness was contagious. I chuckled and then I was right beside her laughing in the grass.

"Why are we laughin?" I asked, after we had pretty much stopped.

"Tad is not your dad." She replied.

I chuckled. "No, Tad is to old."

She propped herself up. There was grass in her hair and a smear of dirty on her dress. That never bugged her. "Franky, I got to get home. It's getting late."

I got up and helped her up. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow is church." She reminded me. 

I frowned. That meant she would be gone all day. "Ohh..."

"I'll see you soon enough." She said.

"Yea. I guess." I said, as she walked home. 

As I walked back to the house I started to wonder where my real dad was. Was he like Job, Smoky or Tad? Was he working somewhere close? Did he know about me? I'd like to think he didn't. It's wrong for a dad to leave his boy. 

I told my head to shut up. All this fuss in my head when I had a perfectly good pa at home. In the end I was really the lucky one.


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Writers Block!


----------



## farmpony84 (Apr 21, 2008)

hate that. I'm stuck on mine too. I like it so far though.


----------



## ShutUpJoe (Nov 10, 2009)

Chapter 3


"Maggie!" I rushed up the stairs as fast as I could. My boots left trails of dust on the mahogany wood. "Magdalene!"

Magdalene was pouting on her bed with a needle patch on her lap. I had forgotten that her mother made her practice every day now. All because Magdalene spent two summers not doing it when she was told to. I panted as I stood in front of her. My smile spread across my face.

"She's here!" I blurted.

"What?" She asked, her brows coming together.

"Salomira!" I shouted. "Get up! Maggie... Come see her!"

The wheels clicked in her head for a second until she finally got what I was talking about. She shot up from the bed, dropping the needle patch on the floor, and tried to shove her feet into her lace up boots. I helped her tie one while she did up the other. We both giggled.

We were running down the stairs before I had even tightened the strings. She took the stairs two at a time. I galloped down them enthusiastically. We ran all the way to the barn racing each other. Both wanting to be there when they pulled the sheet off Salomira. 

Pa brought her around the barn. Standing beside her proudly. There was a long blanket on her. It connected at her ears and draped down her hind end. It had been a hard winner and my pa had demanded the blanket for her journey. 

Her two small ears pricked forward. She pranced daintily beside my pa. Showing off for her dazed audience. When my Pa stopped she stood still and let out a shrill whiny, stretching her neck out. Her nostrils widened as she puffed the air around her. Tasting it. Then Pa reached up and undid the leather strings that kept the blanket on. Salomira stood perfectly still. 

When he took the blanket off I held my breath. Salomira was only a filly. Not even two years old, her shoulder stood higher than my Pa's shoulder. She was long legged and lean. Covered in steal grey with large snowflake dapples covering her. Except for her face, which was mostly white. Her mane and tail swirled with white, silver and black. I had never seen another horse, not even Tempester, as beautiful.

"She's stunning." Magdalene sighed.

"She is." I agreed.

Pa turned to us. "How would you guys like to show her to her stall?"

Little did he know that he had just made us the two happiest eleven year olds in the world. We both grabbed the lead rope and walked her into her stall next to Tempester. He rumbled a welcome at her. We did the latch and watched her stretch her neck out over the edge to snuffle him. 

Magdalene walked up the filly. Silently she began to make swirls on her neck and head. The filly stood stock still. This wasn't like Tempester. Magdalene's eyes were filled with desire. I believe from that moment on Salomira was hers.


----------

