Meeting Blackbeard: (Memoirs of a Teenage Author)

(This is post #15 of the My Journey to Gritty: Memoirs of a Teenage Author series)

Just so you know, you're in on the middle of a series about my teenagerhood. It's been lots of fun, but it's about halfway over. You can start here in the middle if you like, or you can go to the My Journey to Gritty: Memoirs of a Teenage Author index <-- (Yes, that's a link you can click.) and read the beginning of the series before continuing. I recommend going to the beginning and reading it first.
Now... back to the story!


Two days passed, then it came time for our dinner guest to arrive. (I’ll call him Blackbeard, because he had a sturdy frame like a pirate captain, and a bit of a black, curly beard on his face.)
I stayed in the kitchen and worked on the enchiladas while my parents met Blackbeard at the doorway. While they were exchanging pleasantries, an adorable, eleven-year-old girl skipped through the Tunnel of Death and burst into the kitchen.
“I want to help!” she exclaimed. “Can I help?!”
My heart felt like it was about to soar out of my chest as I looked at her.
What was she doing here?! She looked so familiar!
Suddenly, I remembered that our guest, although he’d never been married, had adopted a boy and a girl back when they were toddlers. That was one of the things that I figured made him good friends with my still-unknown husband, both of them being single dads and all.
“Sure,” I told the girl. “You can spread the cheese over the tortillas.”
She wiggled into place beside me and started importantly helping. Gradually, Blackbeard and his twelve-year-old boy came through the tunnel and sat down in the dining room with the rest of my family.
I glanced at them, hopefully looking for a guest.
But no… Blackbeard had only brought his adopted children with him.

Dinner was awkward. The food was good, but the trailers were freezing cold, and everyone acted stiff.
After a while, the kids were told that they could go play. Then Dad leaned forward with a determined expression on his face.
“We didn’t actually invite you here to check out our roof,” he told Blackbeard.
Our guest didn’t act surprised. He looked down and started slicing methodical cuts into his enchilada.
“The real reason we brought you here,” Dad continued. “Is because… we think that you might be Jessiqua’s husband.”
Time stopped.
Betrayed! By my own beloved father!
I was too furious to speak, but I started passionately shaking my head.
“Or… we think that you might know him,” Dad quickly finished.
Blackbeard looked at me, then at my parents. I wasn’t looking at him, so it was impossible to read his face.
“I… know him,” he finally replied.
I sat up ramrod straight in my chair and excitedly looked at him.
Maybe this night wasn’t a total embarrassment!
“Is he in your church?” Dad asked.
“He’s… in the assembly.”
My fingernails clenched the table in anticipation.
Then Blackbeard turned to me. His dark blue eyes were stern and serious.
“Jessiqua, could you leave the room, please?”
My mouth dropped open. Leave, now?! The arrogance of the man! I wanted to know what he was going to say more than anybody! I deserved to know!
I silently stood and left the room, offended to the core.

Dad and Blackbeard talked for quite a while, then I and the rest of the kids were let back into the room. It was getting late, Blackbeard’s children had school in the morning, so he had to go. He was taking the time to draw a map to his church though. I rolled my eyes when I saw him sketch his house a couple blocks away from the church building. Why would we care where his house was?

When Blackbeard left, I hurried up to Mom and demanded, “Well?! What did he say?!”
“I can’t tell you,” she said in a goadingly mysterious way.
“Why not?!” 
“It would give you a big head,” she primly replied.
Ohh! This was so frustrating!

I went back to my room to pray and calm myself down.

Click here to read the next post in this series: Chayei Sarah

4 comments:

  1. Okay. I'm dying here. Your cliff hangers are TERRIBLE. Ha ha! :)

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    1. Haha! This made me laugh in an evil sort of way. Hey, I'm a novelist, what can I say? :)

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  2. Have you ever thought about turn this into a novel? It is so captivating.

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    1. I'm glad you're enjoying my story! The novel I'm working on right now (#3 in the Memoirs of Life series) has a lot of this story's essential elements and emotions in it. :)

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