Lea’s Diary
Chapter one
The first bid was for two-dollars. Then it was six. I had just bid eight and decided I was willing to go up to as
much as twenty. I wanted those
books. I raised my hand, signaling my ten-dollar bid. The fast talking auctioneer urged the bidders higher but he had
no other takers. A little surge of
adrenaline swept through me as I realize my bid has won. The box of old books was mine.
I had picked up some intriguing
pieces at the auction today and I think these books might be a real find. A quick inspection at the car revealed that I had purchased fourteen
books and an envelope full of old greeting cards. The books were all smallish; most no bigger then a modern
paperback and some were leather bound. The frayed edges poking out showed the
books to be, if not well loved at least well used. A group of blue cloth bound books proclaimed they were, MacMillan’s Pocket Classics. Checking the titles I found, Silas Marner, Macbeth, Merchant of Venice and Treasure
Island. They must be high school
English textbooks. These dated from the turn of the century, easily a hundred
years old and in really good condition considering their age. There were also copies of Dracula,
The Time Machine and The War of the
Worlds. If any of these turned
out to be first editions I will have truly found a treasure.
As I Pulled one of the larger books
from the pile a newspaper clipping that had been stuck to its side fluttered to
the ground. Picking it up, I was
delighted to see that it was a wedding announcement. Dated June 26, 1891, it
gave the particulars of the marriage of Lea Smith and David James Dean. I opened the book to put the scrap of
paper inside and found a picture tucked in at the back. An embossed cardboard folder held
the picture, which was of a striking young Victorian couple. They stood beside
a Grecian column, dressed in what I felt sure was their wedding finery.
Looking closely at the book I could
just make out the letters L J S, that were imprinted on the front of the book.
The letters were in an intricate, interlocking curlicue script so elaborate
they were almost unreadable. Opening
the cover page, I found written in a small neat hand: Property of Lea June Smith. Leafing through the rest of the book I
noted the dated entries that were scripted in the same tidy handwriting. What
luck, this must be the journal of the young women mentioned in the marriage
announcement and I thought, hopefully, the woman in the photograph. Tucking
everything back in the box, I loaded up the car and headed home excited about
my auction finds.
I needed to give everything a good
cleaning but I was eager to get started on the part that I enjoy the most. I
love to research the history of the things I find and making that connection with the past. So far my most interesting finds
have been a mint condition antique Ouija board that I found in a box of old
games, and a 1850s silver plate tilting water pitcher with cups. I always
wonder what tales these things could tell if they could only speak. What
stories were waiting to be discovered in the contents of this box? With that
notion to motivate me I carried it into the house and got started.
In the kitchen I dampened a soft
cloth and began gently wiping the dirt and dust from the small volumes. I saved the journal for last and picking
it up set the picture and clipping aside for later review. I had been thinking
of this as “Lea’s diary”, and was very curious to see what she had written. After wiping the journal free of dirt I
could see the spiral pattern of ivy vines that twined up and around the edges,
some of the leaves spilled out and seemed to be supporting the faint gold
letters of her initials. Once, the ledger had been tanned a deep green but now the leather had faded to a soft
gray and over the years, in the spots where it had been touched the leather was
a shiny silver.
Finished with the cleaning, I
looked again at the picture. Taken in a portrait artist’s studio, the picture captured
the faces of the young bride and groom, as they stood rigid, waiting for the
flash. The girl in the picture had dark hair and it was crowned with a coronet
of orange blossoms. From under the blooms the veil cascaded to the floor and
pooled around her feet. Her lips
curved in a shy smile, but the eyes that stared at the camera’s lens looked out
with an unapologetic and direct gaze. There bodies did not touch except for where her hand
rested on his sleeve.
I could wait no
longer, taking the journal with me I settled into my favorite reading spot on
the screened in porch and began to read.
January
1, 1890
Once
again, I find myself acting as chaperone for M. I know such is the lot of an older sister and while I am
happy to accommodate her, I find it awkward to intercede when I feel their actions
become inappropriate. I will admit,
I find the job less tedious now that they are betrothed.
Mother
worries that I have not found a husband of my own but I do not have the same
concerns. I think I would be happy being kind Auntie Lea, to M’s hoped for
brood.
And there she was, Lea had arrived.
This young woman from the past had reached across time and now sat with me on
the sofa. For the rest of the
afternoon I was lost in Lea’s world.
I listened as she described
the lace on M’s wedding gown and I felt her boredom while having tea with Aunt
M J.
Totally engrossed in what I was
reading, the time passed quickly and looking up at the clock I was surprised to
see it was almost 9:30. I started
to close the ledger but then my eyes fell on this entry.
March 15, 1890
Beware
the Ides of March, indeed! As of now, I promised to keep Mary’s secret between
just the two of us but feel I may not be doing the best by her. I fear for her,
if C should find out.
No comments:
Post a Comment