Coleman / Perrin Anna's World

1. Auflage 2010
ISBN: 978-1-935178-19-4
Verlag: Coleman Perrin
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 282 Seiten

The United States of America in the late 1840s.. Due to dire family circumstances, fourteen-year-old Anna is sent to live among the stern people called Shakers. Their strict lifestyle and strange ways prove difficult for the bright, headstrong girl. Later, plunged into upper-class Boston life, she must face a troubling mystery, new responsibilities, old dangers, and events that will affect not just herself and her loved ones, but a country about to come apart at the seams. A Study Guide and Author Notes are free downloads at www.chironbooks.com. A novel for ages 12-up, also loved by many adults. 'Wisdom, spirit, and spunk,' commented Beverly Donofrio, author of Riding in Cars with Boys. Awards in national competitions: Moonbeam Children's Books Awards; U.S.A. Book News 'Best Book' Awards; Reader Views Literary Awards; Eric Hoffer Book Awards.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Coleman, Wim

Perrin, Pat

Leseproben

2
Reflection in the Mirror
Anna’s eyes snapped open. The darkness of the dream was replaced by a thin face, lit only by the dimmest of light. It was the pale, worried-looking face of Ruth Curtis. “Anna, what is it?” asked Ruth, still in a whisper. “You cried out.” “It was just a nightmare,” mumbled Anna. “I’m all right now. Go back to sleep.” Anna turned on her cot away from Ruth and closed her eyes. “But what were you dreaming about?” asked Ruth. Anna groaned and opened her eyes and stared at the wall. Ruth always wanted to know about her dreams. Ruth wanted to know about everybody’s dreams! “I dreamed about Papa,” said Anna. “And Brother Seth. And muddy water.” Then, with a knot in her stomach at the memory, she added, “And some dead people.” “Dead people?” asked Ruth. “You mean spirits?” “No. Just dead people. It was a bad dream, that’s all.” “If spirits are coming to you in your dreams, you mustn’t ignore them, Anna. You’ve got to pay attention to what they’re telling you. It’s a gift.” “It’s not a gift. And if it is, I don’t want it.” “You can’t mean that.” Anna could hear Betty Mathers shift on her cot across the room and groan loudly. Fortunately, there was no sound of protest from their fourth roommate, Beryl Thornton, who was sickly and needed her rest. “What are you two carrying on about?” Betty asked with a whimper. “It’s not even dawn.” “Nothing, Betty,” sighed Anna. “Go back to sleep. And you, too, Ruth. We’ll wake up Beryl.” A silence fell. Anna didn’t hear Ruth move from beside the cot. “You’ve got to tell me later,” whispered Ruth urgently. “All right,” murmured Anna. “Do you promise?” “Go back to bed.” To Anna’s relief, she heard Ruth shuffling across the floor. Then came a wooden creak as Ruth got back into her cot. Anna closed her eyes, but she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. She was afraid of slipping back into the nightmare. What time is it? she wondered. Was the dim gray light in the room from the moon, or was it nearing dawn? She knew the waking bell would ring at five, just before the sun came up. She lay still for a long time, afraid to move because she didn’t want Ruth to know she was still awake. Pretty soon, Anna heard Betty snoring softly. A few moments after that, she could hear Ruth’s long, soft, sighing breaths. Ruth was asleep at last. Anna rolled over in her cot as quietly as she could. She looked toward the window on the other side of the narrow room. Beyond the silhouetted roof of the nearby herb building, she could make out a patch of sky. It was no longer a deep night riddled with stars, but more of a gray-blue tinged with pale streaks. The last stars were blinking away like snuffed-out candles. Anna lay in her bed and stared at the slowly brightening sky, feeling lost and forlorn. She was no longer the skipping child who had helped out in her father’s store. After the bad water had flooded Martindale, she’d been very ill with typhoid. Many others had died. Then her father had left her with the people called Shakers. That had been two months ago. Anna was fourteen, and the Shakers considered her a woman. Although Anna was getting used to some of the changes her body was going through, she still felt like a young girl most of the time. How long, she wondered, would she be in this awful place? How long would she have to share a room with these three young women with whom she had nothing in common? How long would it be before Papa came to take her back to Martindale, where she belonged? A month longer? Two months? What if he never came for her? What if she never got to go back to her real home? Anna’s head filled with memories—helping with accounts, taking inventory, making change for customers, sorting and giving out mail, talking to everybody who came along. The truth was, she wasn’t much used to people her own age. She had spent most of her life talking to grown-ups. “So do you think President Polk’s going to get us into a war with Mexico, Mr. Craig?” “I don’t hardly know, little girl—and neither do you. And don’t go telling me I should have voted for that rapscallion Henry Clay in the last election.” Papa had often proudly told anyone and everyone that Anna had a better head for politics than the mayor himself. Why, Mr. Craig had even given Anna a Liberty half dollar, just to leave him alone about Mr. Polk’s impending war! Amused at the memory, Anna reached over to where that same half dollar was tucked between her mattress and the wooden cot frame. Then she lay there, clutching the coin tightly in her hand. She wasn’t supposed to have it here in Goshen—not in a place where no private property of any kind was allowed. Even so, Anna kept it hidden, and liked to comfort herself by holding it from time to time. And comfort was something she often sorely needed. Here she was, in a room with young women who had no idea what Whigs or Democrats even were! For although the Shakers considered fourteen-year-old girls to be grown-ups, they frowned upon discussing the World’s affairs. Then another worry began to settle in. Was there even a home to go home to? Mr. Craig was dead from the typhoid. So were Mr. Beaufort and Mr. Crowley. So were more people than Anna could think of. Was Mayor Wolfit still alive? Anna wasn’t even sure just who was left alive and who was dead. She’d been so sick herself, she hadn’t known half of what was going on. And an awful lot of the town itself had been swept away by the flood. The church was gone, and so were a score of businesses, and so were lots of homes and farms—Anna had no idea whose or how many. Papa’s store had not been destroyed, but it had been a waterlogged wreck. Would Martindale ever be the same again? At last came the clanging of the morning bell. Anna was relieved. She wasn’t much looking forward to another Shaker day, but anything was better than lying abed and fretting. She sat up in her cot and saw that her other roommates were awake. Betty’s face was turned toward Anna, her eyes wide with concern. Betty was the first Negro Anna had ever known. There were no black folks back in Martindale, but a good many here among the Shakers. Some had been slaves who had come North to freedom. Others, like Betty, had always been free. Betty’s parents lived in Concord and had decided that their daughter would find her fullest opportunities among the Shakers. The sight of that dark face sometimes startled Anna, even though she thought that Betty was really rather pretty. Prettier than Ruth, anyway. Ruth’s face was pale, drawn, and pinched, and her huge gray eyes were somewhat haunted-looking. To Anna, Ruth didn’t seem quite of this world. But then, a lot of the older Shaker women also had an unearthly look about them, too. Anna turned away from Ruth’s penetrating gaze toward Beryl, whose eyes were barely open yet. Poor Beryl! Anna always thought upon seeing her in the morning. She was so frail, tiny, and sickly that Anna sometimes almost forgot she was there. Both Ruth and Beryl were several years older than Anna and Betty, but they were all women by Shaker standards. “Good morning,” said Anna in the brightest voice she could muster. “Did you all sleep well?” “What about you?” asked Betty anxiously. “I slept fine,” replied Anna. “But what about your dream?” added Ruth. “Dream?” asked Anna. “You woke us up, Anna,” said Betty. “Sorry,” said Anna. “I don’t remember.” Anna knew that neither Betty nor Ruth believed her, but it didn’t matter. At least it would stop Ruth from asking a lot of nosy questions. Anna tumbled off her cot and onto her feet. Betty was stretching and yawning herself awake. Ruth gave up staring wide-eyed at Anna and dropped to her knees beside her bed. Betty, Beryl, and Anna then did the same. A moment of silent prayer was part of every morning’s routine. Within fifteen minutes, the four girls had folded their sheets and blankets neatly on chairs at the foot of their beds and had gotten themselves dressed. Anna took her turn at the plain, white porcelain wash basin. She splashed cold water on her face and reached blindly for the towel hanging above the sink. As she dried her face, she looked up into the tiny little rectangular mirror she shared with her roommates. Just big enough for one face at a time, Anna often thought. The Shakers didn’t think well of mirrors. She could just make out her own features in the dim morning light. Even so, she could hardly believe this reflection was her own face. She could almost imagine she was looking at a picture of Ruth, instead. Or that she was seeing some stranger through a little window. Back in Martindale, a big oval-shaped mirror with a fancy frame had hung in her bedroom. Anna had approved of the rounded cheeks and high graceful forehead that she had seen in that mirror. Papa had always told her she was pretty, and Anna had always believed him, because Papa...