The Mo(u)rning Letters, Chapter 1

BOOK REVIEW, May 2010, by Jenny McWha

Hi GCDA readers! So, for the last little while I have been busy cooking up something extra special for you! When GCDA's Editor in Chief (Jenifer) found out I was a creative writer, she was nice enough to say that I could publish some of my own stuff on here for you guys. After some cajoling, I decided to return to the novel that I had been writing (at a very slow pace) for the past few years. You get to read a chapter every one or two months here, while I continue writing until it’s all done! I hope you ladies all enjoy my book and I can’t wait to read your comments. Please tell me the good, the bad and the ugly, I don’t care: I want to hear what you think! ~ Jenny

The Mo(u)rining Letters, by Jenny McWha
BACK COVER SUMMARY:
When your best friend dies, you are devastated. But when four years go by and you can’t let her go, something is wrong. For Eleanor, the day of Beth’s death haunts her year after year. This year, it’s almost like she’s a ghost herself. Worried, her absent parents ship her off to an intense grief counseling program, hoping that she will get better once and for all. Left without her, Eleanor’s brother and best friend come to discover that Beth’s death affected them more than they ever dreamed. Through letters, thoughts, meetings with exes and interactions with each other, these three mourners will have to discover and confront their real ghosts. (temporary front cover)

The Mo(u)rning Letters

Chapter One:
Proof of Existence

HER MOTHER had told her to put on a coat. Now she wishes she had actually listened.

Dead maple leaves, long void of the bright reds, oranges, and yellows that painted the sky only weeks before, blow around Eleanor’s feet in the very wind that’s making her into a human Popsicle. She speeds up, hoping to reach her destination before she freezes to death. That’s when it starts to snow.

“Darnit!” she mumbles, looking around her. Everyone else in the park has a coat on. Mind you, there aren’t many people actually out in this weather; but even the homeless man who lives on the park bench has managed to get his hands on a shabby parka. She pulls her thin sweater as tight as it can go and swears under her breath, fearing her nose will fall off from the cold. Sometimes she thinks she really needs to stop this teenage rebellion thing. Then her mother opens her mouth again.

The snow keeps falling. As the minutes wear on, it keeps getting thicker and thicker. She would admire the fat, early-winter flakes if she weren’t wishing that she was in the middle of a fire at this moment. She’s just about to give up and duck into the nearest clothing store to buy a jacket or a hoodie or something when she finally sees her sister’s house looming around the corner. Running the last stretch of wet pavement, she practically flies up the stairs to the front door. Her sister answers the frantic knocks after what seems like an eternity.

“Nora! Oh my God, come in! You must be freezing!” Her sister practically throws her onto the nearby sofa, and promptly leaves to hunt for a blanket, mumbling about stupidness and teenagers. Eleanor pretends not to listen.

“No kidding.” She has finally defrosted enough to respond.

“Look, Eleanor,” her sister says, returning with a fleece throw, “I don’t need your sarcasm right now.” Eleanor looks up, smiling, itching for a sisterly spat, before realizing that there are tears in her sister’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks worriedly. Her sister is the strong one.

Her sister laughs. “Oh, you know, these damn hormones.”

Eleanor looks at her, trying to be discreet. Cornelia McPherson: twenty-six years old and stunningly gorgeous. Cornelia was ten years old when Eleanor was born, and nine when her brother Benjamin was. Sometimes Eleanor wonders if Cornelia is still a little peeved at the fact that she got two younger siblings so late in her childhood. She remembers her sister always trying to get away from them when they were young, sighing over babysitting duties, attempting to make her mother realize that she wanted two more children, not her daughter. If Cornelia still is, she doesn’t let it show. Eleanor doesn’t know anyone who loves deeper than Cornelia. Sometimes, when she looks back at when Cornelia was still living with them, she remembers Cornelia as the adult, the parent. Her parents are often absent from memories. Probably at work or something, probably a pressing case that could not wait for child or home.

Now Cornelia is going to have her own children to look after, twins. Eleanor smiles when she sees her sister absently rubbing her stomach.

“Only four months to go.”

“Hmm?” Her sister looks up, a look of pure joy still on her face.

“Four months `till the babies come.” Eleanor imagines two small beings knocking on the door, suitcases beside them.

Cornelia doesn’t answer. She just smiles, a smile that Eleanor hasn’t seen on her sister’s face since her wedding day. The tears are gone, the sparkle back in her eye.

“So why did you walk all this way without a coat on? When you have a car, no less?”

“Well. My car’s out of gas, and dad won’t get me any more until tomorrow, so I had to walk, and mom told me to wear a coat, but I didn’t. You know me, always trying to pretend that winter isn’t coming.” She feels a nudge in the back of her mind, but pushes it back down, trying to make it stay in its place. She isn’t going to let it come out this year.

Cornelia shakes her head. “What are we going to do with you, Nora? But why did you even want to come here in the first place?”

“I just wanted to see you, Cornelia. You don’t come over much anymore. And with Billy gone on business, I thought you might want some company.”

“You’re right, Nora, I do want some company. Tea?”

Eleanor nods her head, glad for the warmth. She hadn’t even noticed the kettle was boiling. Its angry scream fills the house, gets into her ears and won’t leave. She has the insane desire to cover her ears, like she used to when she was small and didn’t like loud noises.

The visit goes by quickly. Eleanor leaves hours later, but it seems like only minutes ago that she saw the familiar face of her big sister standing in the doorway, so welcoming, so familiar, so comforting. Even though it’s been four years since Cornelia moved out, home still doesn’t feel like home. Even though she lives only a few blocks away, it just isn’t the same. Talking on the phone doesn’t cut it: there are always those midnights when she just needs to talk to her older sister, her rock, which is a problem when said older sister’s husband does not appreciate midnight phone calls. At all.

She admires the framed sonogram picture in the hallway as she leaves. She can see that her sister thinks it’s silly, too, but says she’ll take it down when they have real pictures to put up. “They’re just so real to me, Eleanor,” she says, “I need outside proof, though, that they’re really there.”

Eleanor leaves, thinking about proof of existence.

WHEN SHE walks through the front door, Eleanor is crying. Benjamin doesn’t know why. She’s been crying a lot in the past week, so he figures she’s just PMSing. Something tells him this isn’t the case, not with tears pouring down her face as she walks into the living room. She looks like a mess, is wearing one of Cornelia’s old jackets. He guesses that it is indeed cold outside, and Eleanor should have just taken their mother’s advice and worm the darn thing. She takes it off slowly, smelling the hood as she hangs it delicately on a peg. Leaning against the door frame, she glances at Benjamin. He gives her a reassuring smile, a little crooked, and pats the place beside him on the couch. Eleanor looks relieved as she sits down, immediately leaning against him. He puts his arm around her just as the major tears come.

“I- I- I miss her, Benjamin,” she sobs.

“I know, Nora. I know.” He doesn’t know if Eleanor means Cornelia, or Beth. Maybe both. Whoever she misses, he knows that he’ll be there for her.

ELEANOR FEELS better the next day. Sometimes, she just needs to cry, to let it all out. The anger, the frustration, the loneliness. Benjamin’s good for helping with that. He must be the best older brother in the world. Sure, he teases her, annoys and flirts with her friends at the same time (a rare skill), and does the basic older brother “you shall not date my sister” thing; but he also knows how to just sit and hug her while she cries. No questions, no explanations, just pure older-brother comfort. Another rare skill. And he always, always, makes her feel better the next day. It was just a glitch—this year it’s going to be better. She will not let it get the best of her, not this year.

“Eleanor!” It’s Susannah, marching up the hallway, banging against all the foot traffic going the other way. She elbows a guy before finally stopping beside Eleanor, who is standing in front of her locker.

“Hey, Suse.”

“Why the long face? Mid-term break is just around the corner!”

“I’m excited—you know I’m excited. Benjamin, tell Suse I’m excited.”

Through this conversation, Benjamin has been making out with his girlfriend of the week. This time it is Massie Sinclair: captain of the cheerleading team and very blonde. The blondeness nearly blinds Eleanor. It is like the cosmetic mirror Massie is always wielding when she isn’t lip locked with Eleanor’s brother. Always shining in Eleanor’s eyes when she least expects it. She’ll be gone by tomorrow; Benjamin’s only a rebound. Her boyfriend, Evan Samuels (school quarterback), broke up with her last week, and they’ll be back together by the next. Eleanor knows that Benjamin doesn’t care. He only cares that he’s making out with a cheerleader. And now he’s mad because she interrupted his make-out session.

“Yeah, whatever, pipsqueak.” He likes to call her that, even though he’s only a year older. She takes it of a sign of love.

“See, Benjamin agrees with me.”

Susannah just stares at her blankly before saying, “Whatever. Well, we have to do something.”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t know that yet, Eleanor.” An expression that Eleanor recognizes as Susannah’s thinking face comes over her. “Yeah, I still don’t know.”

“Hey, can I come?” Evidently, Benjamin has come up for air.

“Why do you want to come?” Eleanor asks.

“Well, Sean’s out of town for the week, Brian and David are both working, and I have nothing to do. So I figure I’ll just leach onto you two.”

Eleanor sighs. “What about Blondie?” Massie sends her a look that Eleanor is surprised does not kill her.

“Who, her?” Benjamin asks, glancing at Massie. “Oh, she’ll be gone by next week.”

“What are you talking about, Bennie?” Massie whines. Unlike Benjamin, who realizes that most of his relationships mean absolutely nothing, most of his girlfriends believe that Benjamin is The One. Yeah, Benjamin Davies, The One. Eleanor doesn’t know why, but she can never imagine Benjamin getting married or even being in a serious relationship. She had always thought of Cornelia being married one day with ten kids; but never Benjamin. She will always see him as the bachelor uncle; the one who gives the best Christmas presents. The girlfriends of the week just prove that.

They all ignore Massie.

“You can hang out with us, Bennie,” Susannah says, in a dead imitation of Massie the malice. Massie looks like she might explode. Eleanor doesn’t grudge Susannah her jab, though. It’s not every day you get to make fun of one of the most popular girls in school. And Massie is an idiot. The sooner her and Benjamin break up, the better.

Eleanor and Susannah leave to go to class just as Massie starts tugging on Benjamin’s sleeve, whining like she’s on fire.

“Who does she think she is?” Susannah asks, “The Queen of England?”

“She’s a cheerleader, Suse. She’s used to getting what she wants.”

“And why is it that she suddenly wants Benjamin?”

“Someone’s sounding a little jealous,” Eleanor teases.

“What?” Susannah stops dead in her tracks. “I’m not jealous.”

Eleanor leaves it there, but something tells her that her best friend is feeling a little jealous about Benjamin and girlfriend number fifty or some such ridiculous number. Strange, very strange.

THINGS ARE good for the next month. Benjamin goes through three girlfriends: Kara Simmons, Abigail Ritter, and Stacey-Mae Lymon. They all go crying to Eleanor when he breaks up with them. Eleanor asks if they have any friends, they tell her that they think of her as a sister now. Eleanor wants to throw them out a window. Benjamin refuses to show remorse and leeches, like he always does, and Susannah continues showing signs of jealousy. Eleanor puts off confronting her.

Cornelia goes into her sixth month of pregnancy, and Billy decides to leave for three weeks. When Eleanor asks her sister why her husband would leave his pregnant wife for that long, Cornelia changes the subject. Benjamin nearly breaks a knuckle from punching a brick wall after they leave.

Everything goes well—until December second comes.

“I CAN’T go to school,” Eleanor tells her mother.

“Nora, you have two tests and a major assignment due today—you have to go in!”

“I’m not going, Mother. I just can’t.”

“Fine,” she answers, tucking Eleanor in. “Just remember to lock all the doors and don’t open up to anyone who you don’t know.”

“There’s no danger of that, Mom.”

Her mother leaves her in bed, closing the door quietly.

Benjamin is waiting downstairs for Eleanor when his mother comes down the stairs.

“Where’s Nora, Mom?”

“She’s not going in today, darling.” He hates it when she calls him that. “You know how it is, it’s only been three years. She still has some troubles around this time.”

“Oh, shoot.” He begins running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Tell the school I won’t be in either!”

“Benjamin! Get down here now! I will let your sister stay home, but I draw the line at you!”
Benjamin leans his head over the railing. “I have to be there for her. I’m not going.” He stopped listening to her orders years ago. Sometimes he pretends that she still has authority over him, but not today.

She sighs, and goes to call the school to tell them that neither of her children will be going to school today.

Benjamin quietly goes into Eleanor’s room. “Nora?”

He sees her lying in her bed. In a flash he’s there, shoes off, sitting on top of the covers beside her. He notices the wet pillows and the silent tears streaming down her face. All he can do is put his arms around her.

ELEANOR FEELS dead. But she’s not the one who’s dead—it’s Beth.

Eleanor and Beth met when they were in kindergarten, and had become instant best friends. They did everything together, liked all the same things, were always in the same classes. They had imagined being in high school together, double dating, going off to university somewhere far away, living together, being bridesmaids at each other’s weddings…. The dreams went on and on.

That had all been before Beth started getting headaches in seventh grade. They got worse and worse, and sometimes she would have to stay home from school because of the pain and dizziness. Other things would happen sometimes, too. Beth would forget someone’s name, or black out for a few seconds. The doctors said they were just bad migraines, everything was fine. Life continued on as usual.

   Eleanor still remembers the day when she found out that Beth had brain cancer. Beth took her to her favourite ice cream place and bought her two scoops of peanut butter chocolate, Eleanor’s favourite. Eleanor wanted to enjoy the ice cream, but for some reason it had felt like ashes on her tongue. It was Beth’s expression. She hadn’t been in school that day (Eleanor assumed she was sick), but had called Eleanor and invited her to come out after dinner. She had been so strong when she told her, stronger than Eleanor had ever been, stronger than she ever would be. Eleanor hadn’t understood at first, could not imagine her best friend, so full of life, like those small and weak bald children she had seen on TV shows and the news. Beth hugged her when she started crying, told Eleanor that everything was going to be okay.

   It should have been the other way around, Eleanor comforting Beth, but that was just how Beth was. She was the stable one, for her family, for Eleanor. She had been their rock when their world was turned upside down. The irony of it all was that Beth was the reason the world went crooked, and somehow was also the one who kept it from falling apart. Eleanor had cried and cried, and had left, left her best friend because she didn’t know what to say to her, how to look at her with this new label of “cancer-patient.”

Beth didn’t allow that label to stick, though. When she lost her hair from the chemotherapy she wore the coolest hats and bandannas that anyone at school had ever seen. She acted the same as she always had, even when she was weak and despairing inside. Eleanor hadn’t realized what Beth had really been feeling then until after Beth had gone, and her crazy Aunt Rachel had told everyone. Rachel was the only person that Beth had let her guard down around. At first, Eleanor had been offended but then realized that Beth hadn’t wanted any of them to worry: Rachel had been the only one who could really handle it. She was that kind of person. A rock, like Beth.

   Beth was fine for the first year, and even went into remission for a couple of months, but the cancer came back in eighth grade with a vengeance. She was permanently hospitalized. She went brain dead that summer; and by December of Eleanor’s first year of high school she was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

STACEY-MAE COMES around after school to see Benjamin. She knocks with three short taps: ratatatat. Benjamin doesn’t want to answer the door but does anyways.

“So, where are we going tonight?”

“I can’t go out tonight, Stacey-Mae.”

“Why not? You told me we would definitely go out tonight, Benjamin. You PROMISED!” How could he have ever dated someone so melodramatic?

Benjamin looks at the unbelievably hot, yet unbelievably stupid girl in front of him.

“Look, Stacey, I think it’s time we broke it off.”

Stacey-Mae blinks stupidly at him. She looks like a cow. He wants to laugh but doesn’t have the energy.

“What?”

“It’s over, Stacey-Mae.”

He can see tears in her eyes. “Let me through Benjamin,” she sniffles, “I have to talk to your sister.” It always amazes him how the first person these girls run to when he breaks up with them is his sister. The girl who usually hates them. She’s past hating them now, though.

“Eleanor can’t talk now, Stacey-Mae,” he says, blocking the door. “She isn’t feeling very well.”

Stacey-Mae huffs and sniffles and sighs and then practically runs down the front walkway, her boots click-clacking until she is far enough away that he can’t hear them. Benjamin sighs and goes back to comforting his sister. He can’t really do much, but he can be there for her, and get her food and water, and make sure she doesn’t drown in her own tears or roam too far away in her own mind. Just when everything seems to be getting better with her, December second always arrives. He wishes he could permanently cross it off the calendar.

OF COURSE it has to be that day that they get the visitor. It’s Cornelia, in tears, there to tell, after much cajoling by their parents, that Billy is having an affair. He just told her. The other woman in pregnant. He’s going to marry her. Cornelia says she doesn’t know what to do. The house is in Billy’s name and he wants it. Their mother says that they will fight him every step of the way. Cornelia says she doesn’t care as she looks down at her stomach, growing bigger every day. She asks if she can have her old room back.

Benjamin wants to hit something, preferably Billy. But he can’t, because his unbelievably breakable sister is sitting beside him, put into some kind of zombie daze because she has to deal with the anniversary of her best friend’s death as well as the crumbling of her sister’s marriage. Nothing is going on behind her eyes. No one knows what to say, what to do. Life is falling down around their ears.

When Eleanor is safely back in bed, Benjamin’s parents start talking about sending her to another counselor.

“She’s just been floored by the news,” his mother says, “She needs to get help, or her grief is going to send her into a depression and I want to do everything in my power to make sure she doesn’t have to go on any medication.”

His father agrees. Benjamin just sits there, wishing all the bad things in the world wouldn’t make themselves known on the same day.

Eleanor stays out of school for a week—and that weekend her parents send her to an intense two-day counseling session. It works a little bit: she just seems sad when she gets home, not dead. But hey, it’s an improvement.

Stay tuned for Chapter 2...

~ Jenny

Comment

Jess

wow, really good story Jenny! i cant wait to read more :D

Britt

that was really good jenny :) very interesting, and i love your style of writing! cant wait for the rest of the story! :)

Ellen.

Great Job Jenny! I love this so far! I can't wait until the next chapter!

melanie

this story sounds very interesting! Cant wait for the next chapter :)

cherry

I like the concept of your book, and the characters seem to be well developed. I think that you could possibly expand a little more. maybe since this is online it seems a little confusing.

MusicIsEverything

THAT IS AWESOME! :D

J.

This is soooo good!

greatauntjanine

Jenny, this brings back the memory of my best friend in Grade 7. Her father passed away in February. She was a wonderful girl and a big help to her mother. In September, when we returned to school for Grade 8, she confided that she was having excruciating headaches and her period had stopped. She didn't want to tell her mother because she was afraid to put more worry on her mother who was working so hard to raise four younger children after her father's death. I convinced her to tell her mom. We went to her house that day and she told her mother what was happening to her. She wasn't at school for the rest of the week. She never came back because she was hospitalized immediately and underwent surgery the next day. She had a brain tumor and died a few weeks later. She was 14 years old. That was in 1956.