By Codename Emi

The original version of this story was written while I was in the 6^th grade.  Since then, I have rewritten it completely.  Once you get into it, you will see that it is a spin off from Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women.  I give her credit for the creation of the March family and their story; however, Ty and his adventures have come completely from my own thoughts, ideas, and experiences.  Enjoy. 

Please also note that my parents are good people and do not drink.

 

Hello, my name is Ty.  Ty Gordon Steppe, if you want to get into details.  I am now fifteen.  I live here in Boston with my older brother, Allen, and his wife Sara.  I didn’t always live here in this nice neighborhood.  I used to live with my drunken father.

I didn’t like him much.  I know it is wrong to admit that now, but he was always upset, always verbally abusive.  More often then not, he was physically abusive.  That always got to me.  ‘Specially when he’d throw punches at my mother.  The only place he’d let us go was to church and he always went with us there.  I never got a chance to go to school, although Mother always tried to teach me things.

Sometimes Allen would sneak out.  I never wanted him to go.  I was always afraid he’d never come back.  My father would yell at me and Mother until he returned.  Then he’d yell at Allen, sometimes he’d even whip him.

On one of these occasions, Father came home from the bar totally drunk, raving mad.  Must ‘a’ had a tussle with someone at the bar.  He immediately demanded to know where Allen was.  We couldn’t tell him ‘cause we didn’t know.  My mother tried to stop him from being so mad but he just pushed her away.  Some how he got it into his head that I was the one that caused him to leave.

Then he asked me, “You there, boy, you know something and you’re not telling me.  Now where’s your brother?”

“I don’t know, sir,” I replied.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I do not know where my brother is, sir,” I repeated.

“You stubborn pig!  You just keep that up for five seconds longer, and don’t dare move, boy, ‘cause I’m going to get my belt,” he said and left the room.

I knew better then to disobey him now, so stood there listening to my mother cry.

“Ty, Ty, Ty, aren’t you going to do something?”  I heard Mother whimper.

“What can I do, Ma?”  I cried.

“Come here, poor boy, come here.”  So she took me up in her arms and held me there until my father returned.

“Okay, put him down so I can tell him who’s boss around here,” Father said.

“I will not!” Mother protested.

“Let the boy go, Martha!  He needs a good sound whipping to show him to respect me!” my father yelled.

“Even when you’re drunk?!” said Mother.

Then Father shoved her off me and threw her against the wall.  I ran at my father, fists flying.  He lashed the belt and hit me square on the back.  I let out a holler.  He lifted the belt to hit me again and I cowered down on the ground with my trembling hands struggling to protect my face.  He struck me again and I felt like cursing, but I wouldn’t dare, in front of my mother.  Allen had once, and he got himself into a worse scrape then the one I was in.

I heard my mother yelling for him to stop, but he kept beating me.  Finally he wore out and lashed me once more before storming out the door.

“Ty!  Are you alright?”  Mother said and crawled over to me.  I climbed into her arms, and started crying uncontrollably.  “Oh, Ty, I’m so sorry your father gets like that.  I wish I could do something to keep him from beating on you two boys.  It’s just that the liquor gets in his system and…”

“Ma, please,” I managed to gasp.

She touched my back.  I winced and let out a whimper.  “Oh, my poor baby, that must hurt.  Let me take care of it.”

She was right, it did hurt.  I could feel the welts along my back.  She took me up and made me put on a new pair of pants.  Then she put some sort of salve on it that she said that would make it better.  I didn’t think anything would make it better then; it hurt so badly.

Then my brother came in.

“You will never guess what I just found!” I heard him call cheerfully.  He walked into the room.  Mother jumped up and pulled him back out.  “What happened to him, and to you, too, your arm’s scratched.”

She took his face in her hands and said, “Oh Allen, you think you would learn.”

A pause and then, “Yes, Ma?”

“Allen, your father was so angry and drunk, and when he came back to find you gone he brought it down hard on your brother.”

“You mean Father did that ‘cause ‘a’ me?”

“No, Allen, he’s just a raving drunk man that needed something to get rid of his anger, and Ty just happened to be the first thing he saw.”

“Are you sure, Mother?”

“You boys are treated worse than dogs.”

“Yes, Ma?” Allen said, but that was the end of the conversation.  Mother walked back to where I was lying and continued to rub down my back with that stuff.

Allen soon came in and put his hand on Mother’s shoulder.  “You need a rest, Ma,” he said.  She tried to protest but he just said, “Go on ahead, I’ll take care of Ty-boy.”  Mother just sighed and went to the other room.

“You sure got that one good, huh Ty?” he asked me, meaning the whipping I got.

“Yeah.”

“How could he have done anything so bad to you, when I was the one that ran away?”

“I don’t know.  Like Mother said, he was raving.  I just happened to be in the way.”

“Yeah, but still-”

“Aw, it’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you just better watch out ‘cause yours is comin’.”

He laughed and I lied back down.  I closed my eyes and he began to massage my bare back with his strong hands.  “That better?” he asked.  I nodded without getting up.

“I’ve got something to tell you, bro, and you’ve got to promise not to tell any soul ‘till after, okay?”

“It depends.”

“Just promise me you won’t tell anybody.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“I met a girl.”

I sat up, “A girl?  Really, Allen, you made me promise not to tell anybody you’ve met a girl?”

“No, not just that, I think I might marry her.”

I just stared at him.

“Close your mouth, bro, it makes you look like a fool,” he said, and I did.

“How long you known this girl?”

            “A while, I met her at church once.  That’s why I’ve been runin’.”

            “You’ve been runin’ for a girl?”

He nodded slowly.  Oh great!  I thought, just what I wanted to hear.  It was as if I was getting beaten all over again.

            “Everything okay, with that, Ty?” he asked.

            I looked at him again.  He was serious.  “You really love her?” I asked and he nodded.  “This’d mean you’d be leaving us.”

            “It wouldn’t be that bad, Ty.”

            “But what about Father?”

            “I’m not sure, I figure he’ll think I’ve gone off and died.  He might beat you again, though.  But maybe if I break the news to him tonight, while he’s sober, he won’t take any of it out on you.  I plan to go tomorrow though, no matter what.”

            “You can’t leave me here in this state, with my back smartin’! He’d kill me if I couldn’t defend myself!”

            “Fine then, if you want it that way, bro, I’ll wait ‘till later, but next time I go, I won’t be coming back,” he said.  I sighed and lied down again; the pain was still killing me.  “Remember you promised, Ty, you can’t tell anyone, not even Mother.”

            “I won’t, Allen,” I replied and closed my eyes.

Allen sat down the blanket he had picked up off the floor, and started massaging my back again.  I loved my brother, even if he did cause Father to flog me.

 

            My brother kept his promise, sure as I did mine, until one morning I awoke on my pallet and rolled over to see if Allen was awake yet.  I shivered, for all I felt was cold floor, and stood up.  My brother was not anywhere to be seen, and, being the care-worn boy that I am, began to panic.

            “Mother,” I cried, running over to her bedside, “Mother, wake up, did you see Allen leave?”

            She rolled over, brushed the hair from my face, and whispered, “Go back to bed, Ty, your brother will be back soon.”

            “Are you sure, Mother?” I asked, very nervous by this time.

            “Yes, little Ty Gordon, just go back to your bed.”

I didn’t want to disobey her, but I had one more question, “Mother, where’s Father?”

            “He just left.  He said he had to get something.”

            “Get what?”

            “Ty Gordon, why are you being so nosy?”

            I looked up at her, “He’s not going to drink anything, is he?”

            “No, I made him promise.”

            I climbed up into the bed next to her and lay my cheek against her shoulder.

            “Ah, Ty Gordon, my blond little puppy,” she said and touched her hand to my face.

            I smiled and kissed her cheek before I crawled off the bed and out of the room.  I went to the window, lit a candle, and set it on the sill.  After watching it burn for a while I went and sat by the door, laying my head on my knees.

            I had just about fallen back to sleep when someone came in the door.

            “Thomas, is that you?” Mother called.

            Father didn’t answer her, but instead grabbed the collar of the grimy shirt I had on, “Boy, why don’t you put on clean shirt, this one’s filthy.”

            “Sir, this is the only one I have,” I replied, a bit cautious.  He was acting too nice for my liking.  He had never acted anything but awful before.

            “We’ll have to go get you one then,” he said.  “Martha, I’m going out to get this boy a new shirt.  We’ll be back in a while.”

            “Alright, be back soon.”

He drug me out the door with a hand still gripping the back of my shirt.  “Father,” I asked, “where’re we going?”

“Didn’t you hear me, boy?” he replied gently.  “We’re gonna get you a new shirt.”

“Where?” I asked again.

“At the market, son,” he answered.

I’d never been to the market before, although Allen had often told me of the many people he had seen and dealt with there.

When we arrived at the market, all I could see as a walked alongside my father was people.  People standing behind many stands of fruits, vegetables, jewelry, clothing and anything your brilliant mind could think up, along with thousands of others browsing at these stands.  I could just imagine my brother dodging around the many people, talking to the ones he knew, and checking out the pretty town girls.  It was amazing.

“Which one you want, kid?” my father asked when we stopped at one stand with every size and color of shirt that had ever been invented. 

“I’m not sure,” I mumbled back, fingering each and every one.  My fingers finally stopped on a particularly soft light green one.  

“This one, Father,” I said.

“This one?”

“Yes, sir.”

My father paid for the shirt without even a grunt at the price.  Then led me down an alley where I stripped off my old, ragged, down to nothing, shirt and pulled on the new one.  I was in heaven!

“Boy, you got your mother’s eyes, you know that?” he said after studying me for a while.

“No, sir.”

“Son, you got to stop calling me sir, call me Father.  I am your father, correct?”

“But you said-“

“Forget what I said, I drink too much.  I’ve got to stop.”

“Yes, sir-“I caught myself, “I mean, Father.”

“Thatta boy,” he said, patting my shoulder gingerly.  There was a long pause as we stood there in the alley before he finally said, “You know the whereabouts of your brother?”

I tossed this over awhile in my head before I answered cautiously, “What do you mean, Father?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son, you know perfectly well what I mean.”

Did I dare tell? “Father, please,” I tried, looking him straight in the eye.  I could bet that his hand would fly up from its position at his side to cuff me any minute now.

“Ah, I know the ways of young boys.  He made you promise not to tell, didn’t he?”  His hand didn’t move.

I didn’t answer.

“Boy, you answer your father when he asks you a question,” he said forcefully.

“Don’t hit me,” I whispered.

His hand moved.

I cringed, ready for the blow, but instead of giving me a good whacking, both his hands came to rest on my shoulders.

“Boy,” he told me, “son, Ty, listen, the reason your brother left was because I hit him.  I know he’s not coming back, your mother will be heart-broken, and I wouldn’t want her to lose you, too.”

Whoa!  This hit me harder than any smack would have.

“Father…” I mumbled, dumbstruck.

“Let’s get home now, see what your mother is doing,” he said, leading back down the alley toward home.

The first thing my father did when we entered the house was to give my mother a big hug.

From my spot in the shadows, I heard them whisper to each other quietly I and saw Mother’s eyes well up with tears, but this time not tears of pain or fear.  Beautiful tears of joy and still, of sadness at losing her oldest son.  I walked over and through my arms around them both.

Mother smiled and said, “Ah, Ty Gordon my blond little puppy.”

 

I awoke screaming, cold and alone, on the floor.  I didn’t like not having my brother there next to me at night.  It made me have strange nightmares.

“Ty, baby, are you alright?”  I heard my mother call.  I stood up, trembling for some reason, and went to the side of her bed.

“Mother,” I whispered, “I miss Allen.”

“I know, Ty, we all do,” she replied and I crawled into the bed between her and Father.

 

“Ty!” my mother called one day, “would you like to help me go through this old chest?”

I walked into the room to see Mother searching through a chest full of old photographs and blankets I had never seen before.

“Mother,” I said picking up one of two young men and two young women, “who is this?”

“Why, Ty Gordon!  That’s your father and me on our wedding day,” she replied with a laugh.  “We did look quite happy then didn’t we?”

“Yes, Mother, but who are the other people?” I asked, curious.

“Let me see that again, baby,” she said and I handed it over.  She flipped it over and looked at some scribbles on the back.  “Ah, the dear Marches!  I don’t believe I shall see them again!  They were such good friends to us.  I dare say I cannot remember their names anymore it has been so long!  It even shows their address but not their names.  I so wish I could remember!”

“May I keep this picture, Mother?”

“Yes, dear, of course.”

 

One day I arose much later than normal to find both Mother and Father missing.  “Mother?” I called, “Father?  Where is everyone?”

“Ty, my baby!” I heard Mother gasp.

“Ma?” I cried, following the sound of her voice.

I found her huddled in a corner.  “Ma?” I asked again.

“Ty Gordon, my blond little puppy, I don’t wanna die, baby, I don’t wanna die!” she hollered and grabbed me around the neck, pulling me down on the ground.

“Ma!” I cried, “What are you doing?”

“Baby, baby, baby, I love my baby,” she sang out.

She laughed and suddenly tried to kiss me.

“Mother!” I screamed and smelled the liquor in her breath.

“Baby, come here and give your honey a smooch.”

“Ma!!” I screamed again and lurched away from her.

She reached out for me and laughed drunkenly.

“No, no, no!” I sobbed throwing myself out the door and onto the street.  I ran blindly down the alley, my eyes clouded with hot tears.

“Boy, where do you think you are going!” a loud voice rang out and someone grabbed me from behind.  I screeched, and was dragged by my drunken father back to the house where my drunken mother lay on the floor shouting.

“Baby!  Where are you?  I brought us home our boy!” Father bellowed upon entering the house.

“Tommy, is that you?  Come ‘ere and give me some good lovin’!”  Mother answered and ran drunkenly at him so that he dropped me.

I immediately resolved never to drink in my life, and ran.  Out the door, down the alley, and out to the market where I was I was soon lost amidst all the people.

I wandered around for a long while just drifting, letting my nerves cool down, and searching for what to do next.

            “You there, boy,” a man asked, “would you like to buy a few chocolates?  Two for a nickel.”

            “Alright,” I said and reached into my pocket pulling out a nickel and the photo of my mother and father along with the people my mother had called the Marches.  “Here you are, sir.” And I handed him my nickel.

            A bright idea suddenly crossed my mind, “Sir, would you happen to be able to read this to me?” He reached out, took the picture and read, “1407 Logan Street.  You know, kid that’s just down the road a little ways.  If you want to wait around I could take you there.”

            “Thank you, sir.” I replied, “I’ll just wait over here until you’re ready to leave.”     

I waited for a while, until it was almost dark and most of the people were gone.  Then the man came over to where I sat next to the wall of a house.

“You ready, kid?”

“Yes, sir.”

And so, we set off down the street past the little houses, away from the house where I grew up, to a strange neighborhood where there were huge and beautiful houses lining the street.

“That’s the one, boy,” the man said, pointing to a particularly nice one, “I’m moving on, so here I leave you.”  And with that, the chocolate selling man left.

I stood in front of the house for a long while, thinking what lay beyond.  Suddenly a dog barked somewhere near and I jumped out of my trance and ran up the drive.

Knock, knock.  I was standing on the front porch knocking on the door.  No one answered.  I knocked again.  No one was answering.  I tried to open it.  The door was unlocked.

“Hello?  Is anyone here?” I called.

Still no one answered.

I walked further into the house until I ran into a sofa.  After a final look around, I sat on the sofa and fell asleep.

 

“I’ve got to get back before the girls get up!”  I heard a voice say off to the distance and opened my eyes slightly to see a woman run out the door.  I thought nothing of it and went back to sleep.

 

I heard a scream and I jolted awake to see the most beautiful face I had ever seen.  Then the broom hit me.  I jumped up and the girl beat me into the corner where I cowered, protecting my head.

“Jo!  Get down here!  Hurry!” she yelled, still keeping her eyes on me.

“Yes, Meg?  What is it?” another girl called and gasped when she walked into the room.  “Who is that?”

“The name’s Ty,” I said.

“Shush!” the one called Meg, said.  “I came down here looking for Marmee and I found this boy asleep on the sofa.”

“What shall we do?” asked the other, named Jo.

“Go, run and fetch Laurie,” Meg replied.  Then to me she said, “I don’t know where you came from, or what you are doing in our house, but I do wish to know where Marmee went off to.”

“I do not know who Marmee is,” I answered meekly.  “Would she happen to be Mrs. March?”

“Yes, how would you know that?”

“Well, I have this photograph-“I began but was not able to finish for Jo burst into the room with a boy following her.

The boy came to look at me and said hatefully, “Probably some low life homeless that came in here to get warm last night.  Go on, kid, get out of here, go find some other place to sleep!”

I stood, and headed toward the door.  I was not a low life or homeless!  I was just a scared boy with a drunken mother and father and a missing brother!

“Wait, Laurie,” Jo said, “he may have some valuable of ours!  Don’t let him get away!”

I was off from there, running again, in between the houses and into the woods.  I climbed into a tree and hid until I heard him coming.

“Boy!  Where are you?” he called.

“I’m not a low life!” I cried.  He looked up and saw me.  I waited until he was halfway up into the tree and then I jumped.  He was not quite as daring as I was, and he had to climb down from the tree.  I dashed farther off into the woods.

I heard a snap and I fell straight down on my face with a horrible pain shooting up my left leg.  I looked down to see that it was caught in some sort of animal trap.

“Help!” I cried desperately, “Please help me!”

Laurie finally caught up with me and seeing the trap caught on my leg, immediately fell to freeing my foot.

By the time he got my foot clear of the trap, I was in tears, wishing for my mother and father.

“It’s all right, boy, I’m sorry I called you a low life.  Let me help you back to the house and then you can explain.”

 

“My name is Ty Gordon Steppe,” I began, back at the house, with Jo wrapping my foot, “I came here because my mother and father are both drunk.  My brother left a while ago to marry a girl, and I cannot stand it when my parents are both drunks so I ran off.  The first thing I thought of was to come here because I have this picture.”  I showed them my picture.

“Oh, my boy!  Is that Martha and Thomas?  I haven’t seen them since that day!  How are they?” she exclaimed.

“Well, when I left them yesterday, they were both drunk and raving,” I replied gravely.

“Oh, dear, they were such nice people.  I wonder what happened?” she sighed.

“Ma’am, I was wondering, could I stay with you until I find my brother?”

“Of course, deary, anything for Martha’s boy.”

 

“Ty!  Catch!”  Laurie hollered and threw me the baseball.  I ran back to catch the long pass.

“I got it!  I got it!” I shouted.

Wham!  I slammed into the door of a house.  It opened upon impact.  I gasped.

“Laurie!  Come here!  This is my house!” I called.

“What?” he whispered.

I walked into the front room.  There were three white candles sitting on the sill.  Why three?  One for me, and one for Allen.  But three?

“Mother?” I called softly.

“Who is it?  Who’s there?” a weak voice answered.

“Mother!”  I ran to her.  She was lying on the bed.  She looked very pale and weak.

“Ty!  Ty baby!  Is it really you, Ty Gordon, my blond little puppy?” she stroked my hair and tears began running down her cheeks.

“Ma?  What is it?  I’m here now, Mother, please don’t cry.”  I hugged her tight.

“Oh, my baby, your father’s gone to look for you and Allen.  He’s been gone for at least a month now.  I feel so tired.  I thought I was going to die alone in this bed with no one to know.  Where have you been?”

“Mother, I went to the March’s house.  They’ve been taking good care of me.  Would you like to come there with me?”

“Alright, Ty, alright, that would be wonderful.”

 

Two weeks later my mother died.  They said it was from some fever or something connected to alcohol.  I again told myself that I would never drink in my life, for now I had seen too many affects of it, the worst being death.  I hate death and alcohol.  They both have ruined my beautiful family.

 

“It’s hopeless, Laurie, I’m telling you we’ll never find him!” I sighed and plopped myself down onto a bench.

It was a month after my mother had died and Laurie and I were walking in the park looking for Allen.

“Oh, come on, Ty!  You can’t give up that easy!  I mean we’re bound to find him some day,” he replied and sat next to me.

“It’s been over two months since we started looking and we aren’t getting any closer.”

“Oh, well, I know you can find him, the way you always talk of him.  It seems you knew him pretty well.”

“Of course I knew him well!  I had to, when my father was drunk and my mother was defenseless.  I would have been killed if I hadn’t known him.”

“You know what, Ty, maybe he moved to another city,” he said after a while.

“No!  He couldn’t of!  Then I’d never find him!”  I cried and jumped up, right into the path of a man carrying a ton of books, making him drop one.

Then I grabbed the book and ran after the man, for he did not notice that he had dropped it.  “Sir!  Sir!  You dropped your book!”

He turned around and stared at me over the pile of books.

“Ty!”

“Allen!”

He dropped all of his books and embraced me in a huge hug.

Then he asked, with a pat on my shoulder, “How you been Ty-boy?!”

I just laughed and danced around him.

“What?  Have we found him?” Laurie asked.

“Oh, yes,” I answered, “I almost forgot.  Laurie, Allen.  Allen, Laurie.”

“Theodore Laurence, actually, but they call me Laurie,” he said and they shook hands.

“Just one question, Laurie, how does Ty here know you?” Allen replied.

“Allen,” I cut in, much serious now, “I ran away.”

“Why in the world did you run away, kid?” he asked, much surprised.

“Mother was drunk,” I stated simply.

“Mother!  Drunk!” he grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Not, anymore, Allen.”

“Not anymore?”

“Mother is dead now.  She died about a month ago.”

“No!  Almighty God save us all!” he cried and turned his face toward Heaven.

“I’m staying with the Marches now.  Laurie is their neighbor.”

“Have you been good to him while I was gone, my friend?” Allen asked of Laurie.

“Allen!” I laughed, “How have you been?”

“Very well actually, would you like to meet my wife?”

“Alright!”

“Help me pick up these books and then we will be off.”

 

“Sara!  Baby!  Where are you?” Allen called as he led us into a nice looking cottage.

“Allen, is that you?” a soft voice replied.

Then a woman with the prettiest curly brown hair I had ever seen walked into the room.

“Sara, this is my brother, Ty,” Allen said and put his arm around her.

“Pleased to finally meet you, Ty,” she said.

I smiled and said, sweeping a comical bow, “I’m glad my brother married such a beautiful woman.”

She grinned and Allen jumped on me, putting me into a headlock.

“Glad to have you back, Ty-boy, glad to have you back.”

 

Sara invited Laurie, the entire March household, and I to dinner one night.  We came, as food was much welcomed, and we had a grand time.  The meal of chicken and dumplings was wonderful and we were beginning on dessert.

“Tell me again, ma’am,” Allen was saying, “how did you know my mother?”

“Oh, my, that was a very long time ago, we used to be neighbors, I believe, before she met your father,” Mrs. March replied.

“I see.  Were you very good friends?” he asked.

“Yes, in fact, we were the best of friends, and after she got married we never spoke until Ty came,” she answered.

“I liked your mother,” Jo said, “she was a nice woman.”

“Bang!  Bang!  Bang!” on the door interrupted all thoughts.

“What in the world?” Allen jumped up.  He cracked open the door and looked out.

“Who is it, dear?” Sara asked, coming up behind Allen.

Allen took a jump back as the door flew open.  I tried to keep myself from screeching and instead choked, for there stood Father.

Father lurched forward suddenly and fell to the ground at the exact time as my chair.

“Father!” I screamed, and ran to him, but I was too late.  My father was dead.  Dead cold.

“Ty-boy,” Allen whispered and put his hand on my shoulder.  I was kneeling over Father and wishing with all my heart that it was not my father lying there, but someone else.

I stood, as the reality hit me, and threw my arms around my brother, fighting tears.

“I know, Ty-boy, I know.  Don’t worry anymore.”

 

We buried father in the woods behind the March’s house next to mother.  I had been very depressed since that day and now I was resting on the sofa.

“Ty,” Jo said, coming to sit next to me, “are you still mourning?”

“Yes, Jo!  I can’t deal with it, it’s too hard for me,” I replied sadly.

“Have you ever thought of writing it down, making it into a story?” she suggested.

I looked down at my hands sheepishly, and admitted, “I never had a change to learn how to read and write.  I wish I could though.”

“Well, if you’d like me to, I could teach you.”

“Could you?  I’d like that real fine!”

 

“Ty-boy!  Ty!  Where are you?  I have a present for you!” Allen shouted, searching for me in the woods.

“I’m here, Allen!” I called back, jumping from my perch in a tree.  “What do you have for me?”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cute little brown fuzz ball with a white spot on her head.

“A puppy!  Really Allen?  Is it mine?’

“Yes, she’s a full blown sheltie.  Plus I picked this up.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple silk collar with a bronze heart on it.

“Oh!  It’s so shiny!  What does it say?”

“My name is Princess,” he read, “I belong to Ty Gordon Steppe.”

“You hear that, Princess,” I said, rubbing the puppy, “You belong to me now!”

 

That’s the end of my story, I hope you liked it.  I also hoped you’ve read my friend’s story.  If not you can read “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott.  Have you ever read my story before?  I hope not because this is the only place you can.

 

Posted 11/25/03 ©

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