Elf Story" from SillyBooks

~ Arriving Home ~

By Adayla and Ethan
Ages 12 and 9
Tyndall, South Dakota

Part One

After hearing a little tap on the cottage's wooden door, the little elf boy ran towards his elderly babysitter.
    "Wake up, Granny! Mommy's home!"
    But to his dismay, it was only the delivery elf. He let out a sigh of disappointment.
    "Why are you so sad, Patrick? It looks as if you didn't want to see me." The delivery elf said, beginning to kneel.
    "Well, I was expecting my mother. I am sorry if I sounded rude."
    The delivery elf handed little Patrick a letter addressed to "my boy" so he knew it was from his mother. But what did she have to say? Was it just another one of those I am going to be a bit late this time, Pat or was it just saying she is coming home early? He would not give up hope.
    Granny, wiping sleep out of her eyes, took the letter away from Patrick like she was expecting it. It was addressed to him, why take the excitement of hope away? But Patrick dare not talk to his authority in that manner.
    "Oh, Pat, it's for you," Granny announced. Like he didn't know how to read!
    Ripping it out of her hands, little Pat began to wonder. What would she really have to say this time?
    The delivery elf stood and departed so they could have some privacy.
    Then, sitting with Granny on the sofa, Patrick read the letter aloud.

Part Two

Dear Pat,
You won't believe the time I am having in America. It is delightful and the people are so nice. I know this is on such a short notice and I know that I was planning to be there with you at this moment, but I wanted to ask you a question. Would you like to live with me in America?

The moment those words were said, Patrick looked at Granny in bewilderment. Granny, with the same expression, took the letter from him to finish reading.

I know it is across oceans and that it will be frightful with the tall strangers, but I want to be with you and I can't come back every summer to see you all the way in Dangrand. So after you think about it, tell me your decision when your ready.
Love, Mom.

Patrick sat in silence then chose his decision.

    The boat rocked rapidly with the waves. Just thinking about the days ahead made Patrick frantic. Was America really the pleasant land his mother described in the letter? He would find out, but not for another few days.
    As he leaned over the edge of the boat, to compare the waves of the ocean to the raging river back home, he remembered the time he had said farewell to beloved Granny. Oh, how he missed her! For it was now a few days since he had last seen Granny or heard her snore or breathe or laugh. Thinking about her only made him nervous for the days in America, so for now he would try to concentrate on not being frightened.
    Intrigued by American accents, Patrick took part in conversations with other passengers on the ship. One elf woman with an accent, whose conversation he would never forget, he met on the deck when it was nightfall.
    The woman was wearing a white nightgown that swayed as the wind blew. She sat on the ship's stern, looking across the ocean.
    "Hello, Patrick." She said as he approached her.
    "How do you know my name?" He asked curiously.
    She replied, "I know all the names of the passengers who board my ship. But I thought your name was most peculiar. I guess not peculiar but… familiar."
    "Patrick is a common name, especially in my country. You might have been thinking of a differ-"
    "No. It was not Patrick that sounded familiar to me, but yes, it is a name I have heard before. Your last name was getting to me." The woman didn't look at Patrick when she talked to him. Just gazed at the waves… "Spinard?"
    "Yes. Your father, Freddie, was once a friend of mine in school until we had a little disagreement. Where is he?"
    Patrick had not heard anyone say his father's name since he was little. He was greatly known in their community until they heard the news on the fourth of December three years ago. Now nobody ever talked of him for it is known as being rude in the community. You should not talk about a person who has died in such in an event as war.
    "He is, unfortunately, dead." Patrick had never actually talked about his father in public before and he probably would not ever do it again, for it felt odd to. "I am sorry Patrick. I didn't mean to bring up such an unfortunate event."
    The woman then didn't say anything for a several minutes, until Patrick was departing to return to his room.
    "How is Jolene?" She asked.
    "Who?"
    "Your mom?" She smiled.
    "Oh!" He accidentally shouted. "I don't know exactly. She didn't really explain much in her letter. That's actually where I am going. She asked me to live with her in America."
    "So this is a big trip for you, huh?" she asked.
    "Yes." There were a few moments of silence, then Patrick announced it was time for him to get some shuteye.
    But he couldn't sleep, for his dreams were of the woman…

Part Three

"And then he sat on it!" The woman cackled.
    The woman Patrick met three days ago was now the only passenger on the ship he talked to. Lately, she had been telling him stories of his father from when they were in school with each other. But not once did Patrick ask her name.
    "It was all over his behind, "she sighed. "Man, those were the days."
    There was an uncomfortable silence.
    "I have never asked you, but what should I call you?" (An odd question.)
    "What?"
    "What is your name?" Patrick asked.
    "My name is Avalon, but you should call me..., " she paused. "Aunt Avalon would be the proper name, I guess."

Part Four

"I'll tell you all about America, Aunt Avalon!" Patrick tucked the paper with her address on it in his pant pocket. "No details will be left out!"
    He waved at the ship leaving the dock. Then, with bags in hand, walked around trying to recognize his mother's face and Dangrand accent through the crowd of giant people.
    "Patrick!"
    Patrick turned around and ran into his mother's arms.
    "I love you, Mom."
    "I love you, Patrick.
    After the hugging and kissing were over, Patrick's mother went to show Patrick the "car".

Part Five

Dear Aunt Avalon,
    America has been an adventure and will still be as I continue living with Mother.
    There are "vehikels" here. Mother said there are three different kinds. Traks, vans, cors. Odd names, aren't they? I wonder how they came up with then.
    After seeing Mom's house, I almost fainted! Houses are nothing like the cottages in Dangrand. They are huge!
    I was amazed by your stories of Father and a portrait of him hangs above the fireplace. Will you tell me another story of Father?
    I love it here it here and I am not afraid to say, I have arrived home.
    Love, Patrick

(The End)