Labor Day:Mandarin Moana

The Runt

“Hey. Come on. You don’t want to kill the time all day, sitting and pouting.” Isabelle had to say sorry. But she was wrong. I wasn’t ‘sitting’ and ‘pouting’. I was reading my favorite storybook, ‘The Adventures of Rusty’. It’s a good book, to say. Adventurous, enthusing-what more words could I bring to addition? By the way, I was on my topic. “Hey, Ashlin! How do you get these things to breathe?” It was night time already, and all of that happened thirteen hours ago. She was so early at asking things. “You know how to do it!” I had to shout as she was sitting in the next room. “You mean splat water on her face?...Why are you so relaxed?” she was curious. I replied with utmost sarcasm. “Because I care a lot about her.” I turned back to see the look on her face. She was still carrying the water. “How’s the water splating going?” I loved to hear her cry. “Great.” She threw the water on the doll’s face and the girl woke up with a shout, a scream and then an even louder scream. “How am I?! What are you?! Where am I?!...F….F….Freeeeeze or I will shoot you with this gun!!!” “The doll thinks she’s having a gun.” I commented. “I said FREEZE!!!” Maybe she suffered from schizophrenic disorder. Or whatsoever. “Relax kid. You ain’t having a gun. And I’m not someone from the mental hospital.” I was crystal clear. “You’re not?” She thought we were. “We’re not.” Isabelle folded her hands. “Phew!” she sat on the couch. Then she stared at the open door, for a moment or so. Then she stood up and ran. “Hold her back!” Isabelle screamed. I ran after her, as fast as I could. Then I tuck her neck in my arms, and pulled her along. “Let me go!” she tried to escape. But I never let her. Isy had readied the tape and ropes. We tied her to the chair. I took a saddle in my hand, and sat back. “Look rich lady, you’re in the house of a poor maid. So, you’re supposed to sit back and relax kiddo.” “I demand you recognition!” she went. “Okay. I’m Ashlin Radcliffe, and this is my sister, Isabelle Radcliffe. Now, I demand YOUR recognition.” I was simpler than solid sand. “Let me die, but Sophia Roberts will not tell her name!” she slipped it of the tongue. “Sophia Roberts? Nice name.” said Isy. “Let me….mm….mm!” I stuck a piece of tape on Sophia’s mouth. She kept on muffling and murmuring.
Well, at the least I kept her for an hour or so like that. But she didn’t miss dinner that night. Her legs were still tied up, but she was given the hot pouring rancho on boiled brussel sprouts. “Isabelle! It’s the rancho!” I yelled out to her. “You think this is special?” asked Sophia. “Yup. You must be eating it every day.” I said.  “Yeah.” “So, why were you going mad in the hospital?” asked Isabelle. “Well, I, my father and sister, Annie, were on a vacation to Ohio. My sister was playing in the water, and she began to drown.  She was admitted over here, in New York. Then she just died.” Sophia finished off like she was telling a fairytale. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I said. “Are we supposed to take you back to your father?” “Please do not take me back home. My step-mother, that is Annie’s mother, will put me to death, if she sees me.” She replied. “OKAY. I get the point.” Said Isy. “Thanks for bringing me here. Or I would have died.” “Oh, no problem.” I and Isy smiled together like heroes.