The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 6

And now part six...  Tune in Friday for the thrilling conclusion...

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 6

Mrs. Olive Treehousen for the first time in recorded history had told a Horsephat about their personal life.   She had crossed a line drawn many years ago.   She let her emotions take over her whole mind, body, and soul.  Oliver sat listening, stunned by this display.   Never before had he heard such information from a Treehousen.

Upon completion of her prognosis and desire to meet a gentler end, Mrs. Olive Treehousen took the first step towards a solution.   She asked, politely, that Oliver T. Horsephat, a member of the rival family, to end the curse that plagued her family.  He sat stunned by her request.  The proverbial ball bounced into his court.  For the first time in his life, he actually pitied a Treehousen.   And furthermore, he felt a twinge on his heart strings.   And to make matters even more exciting, from somewhere in the cosmos, Oliver T. Horsephat's first thought was to break these damned curses.   To make amends.  To clean the slate and start over.   For one very long moment, he saw into his future.

The name Oliver T. Horsephat would be credited with the discontinuance of an age old family curse.  A curse of unknown origin...  That one singular fact jumped up and tap-danced its way across his mind.  What was the origin of the curses?   This could be the salvation of the rivals.  The Treehousens and Horsephats endured these curses so long that, even when he inquired of Mrs. Olive Treehousen, neither knew the origin of them. 

Together, they would have to search for the beginning.  Someone, sometime, somewhere doomed their future.   Whoever that was now became the hunted.   Olive and Oliver both felt the answer to the riddle would be their salvation, not just for them but also their present and future families.

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 5

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 5

That morning, Oliver T. Horsephat made also history.  He invited a Treehousen into his home.   Mrs. Olive Treehousen crossed cautiously into the hallway.  She feared being stuck down by an unseen force of Treehousen generations.   He invited her into the room he had christened the "sitting room" and offered her a seat.  

This gesture was then followed by another groundbreaking offer of tea.   She agreed and he exited to the kitchen, leaving the adjoining door open.  This decision was not only to keep an eye on her but also to commence the conversation.   He was suspicious of her since after all she is a Treehousen.  She on the other had eyed carefully all of his movements about the kitchen.  Occasionally, she had to lean forward, to the left, and to the right in order to see him.  Her eyesight was better than an eagle during the day and an owl at night.

Upon returning to the sitting room, he placed the tray on the table between their chairs.   He inquired if she wanted sugar, milk, or both.  She gave a specific procedure for the mixture -- first two lumps of sugar, then fill half of the teacup with milk followed by the tea.   Oliver, on the other hand, just poured the tea and dropped in one lump and then sat back to wait for the opposing team to make a move.

After the first sip, she complimented him on his ability to follow directions and in return he thanked her for it.  And then, like a newly-formed waterfall, she began to cry and told the prognosis of her visit with her doctor.

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 4

I need an editor!

And now another episode of...

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 4

Yesterday, Mrs. Olive Treehousen received word from her doctor that she had a slow growing tumor in her lower intestines.  Eventually it would become very painful considering its location and advised nothing but broth.  Between her age and the tumor's location, an operation was near impossible.

She began to fear the future.  Last March, she had turned 81.   She knew the speculation of her age by many people.   This remained one of her favorite secrets.   She believed a lady should never indulge or provide her actual age.  Even her doctor didn't know.   And now, she had some 20 years to go if she was unlucky.

Now Mrs. Olive Treehousen cursed the curse followed by cursing the Treehousens who cursed the Horsephats.  She almost cursed the Horsephats themselves but that may have only lead to more trouble.  She feared her life would be prolonged another twenty years slipping into a lingering painful death.  This possibility sent fear.  She cried.   After contemplating what to do, she made an historical decision.

Now, she stood on the front porch of the rival family.   The time had come to end this damned curse.

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 3

Good news on my book.   I have been cranking away at it the past few days.   I am actually getting close to the end.   My goal is to finish it by the end of January.   I think I can... I think I can... I think I can...

After that comes the editing... but then what?   Yes, I should try to publish it, but how and what does that entail?   I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 3

  

That morning, Oliver opened the front door only to face Mrs. Olive Treehousen. Some guessed she was about 87 while others gambled that she was actually 103.   Regardless, her unknown age had yet to stop her from being a rival of the Horsephats.   The two families had a turbulent history greater than the Hatfields and McCoys.   Only these didn't shoot at each other.   They opted for something more devious.  They had cursed each other.  

The Treehousens had made their fortune in olive importing.   Their business had grown substantially since its beginnings.  They had purchased land for warehouses next to the Horsephats farm.  However, they lived in the neighboring county of Olive Branch and had established its county seat, Olea, in the 1864 as well.   Like the Horsephats, the Treehousens were involved in everything, receiving high respect from the community.

 

While the Horsephats had received "the none-past-47 curse," the Treehousens in return got "the no-rest-for-the-wicked curse."  Not one Treehousen had ever died before the age of 100.    No matter what happened to them, they lived to ripe old ages.  

Ada Treehousen, Olive's third cousin, had literally been whittled to nothing.  First, she lost her left hand in a mountain lion attack which in turn spread gangrene up to her shoulder.  Later, she lost a leg to run-away tractor; the remaining leg meet its fate from a large boulder.   Eventually, she was noting but a torso with a head.  Excitedly, at the age of 101, she expired.  Her grave stone read "She lost everything but her head."  Many similar tales existed for the family.  Unlike the Horsephats, the Treehousens had branched out, thus cursing several generations to long, and often painful, lives.

The families remained rivals to this day with no end in sight.  

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 2

And now part 2 of my new short story...

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 2

As a well-respected citizen, Oliver T. Horsephat's civic engagement was well-know throughout Sugar Beet County.  He lived contently in his simple home on Sweet Street in the county seat of Maple Leaf.   His claim to fame was inheriting The Horsephat Candy Company from his parents.

Maple Leaf, nestled in a shallow valley, was established in the 1864 when the Horsephats had migrated there to farm sugar beets.  Eventually, they had become the most respected sugar beet families in the area.   In fact, they were the only sugar beet growers.  In 1877, the family started the candy company, producing a wide range of sugary sweets, and gained a stellar reputation.

All was not easy with the Horsephats rise to fame.   They excelled in their share of misfortune.    While inspecting a bumper crop, Oliver's great uncle Horace was avalanched under the vegetable when the straps broke on a wagon filled with them.   It took two hours for the workmen to unearth him.    On his grave stone, his epitaph read "Gone to the great sugar beet farm in the sky." 

Later, one February night, his great aunt Miranda meet her death in the kitchen from drowning.  Being a cheap-skate, she had turned on one lone light. In the dimness, she misjudged her step, fell, and hit her head on a door frame.   While trying to get up, she passed out, ending up face down in a pot of sugar beet juice.   No one found her until it was too late.  They buried her next to great uncle Horace.   "Here lies Miranda who penny-pinched her way right into the sugar pot."  

These were only two examples of the strange and unusual deaths in the Horsephat family.   A curse hovered over the family that didn't allow one Horsephat to live beyond the age of 47. 

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 1

As I promised, this is a less intense short story.   After reading about different writing styles, techniques, etc., I decided to write this one in strict narrative format.   I have grown accustomed to lots of dialogue.  I prefer dialogue, so this was a good challenge for me. 

Here is my second short story in seven parts.   This is part one.

The Tale of Oliver T. Horsephat -- Part 1

Oliver T. Horsephat turned 47 years old a few days ago.  So naturally, today, he continued fretting over this fact and the family curse.  He knew what he had to do.   Go about his daily business.   Death couldn't be cheated if it came for him.   Oliver hadn't married so no wife would fret nor had he brought any more Horsephats into the world only to meet the same fate.

However, for Oliver T. Horsephat, this day would bring the chance to change his life -- to redeem the family and break the curse.  Perhaps then, he could marry and start a new generation of Horsephats to continue the family business.

The adventure would start with an early morning knock on the door.

Copyright

I have had two people ask me about copyright.  Apparently, the moment you write it down, you own the copyright.   This I have verified on the U.S. Copyright web page.  I can register my book.   So now, before I post, I have to research and see when to register.

Did Charles Dickens have to go through this?