Possibility (Gilbert Blythe)

Chapter three

Green Gables. Perhaps there are no words in any dictionary that could exemplify that delightful place. The sun continually shined, the grass was always pure green and even the flowers were oddly more excellent there. The water tasted better, the food too, and simply working there was more satisfactory than anything I had experienced before.

Chickens, cows, horses, and that one little cat that kept coming back and forth between farms, needed to be taken care of. I did my chores and everything else the Cuthbert's acquired of me, and in reward, they gave me a bed, meals and on Saturdays, I was allowed to take the horse out to the cliffs.

Oh Reader, when I tell you the place was so delightful that one would never imagine themself away, I speak of the truth. It was the blossoms, it was the animals and the lovely landscape. Deers and a large stag ran across the field in the morning. The dew from rainy evenings turned into sparkling glitter in the sun. I felt as if I belonged there. As if that place was always the place I was supposed to be. Perhaps everything I had been through had been the challenges I needed to thrive over before my reward, like in the fairy tales. It did feel like the King handed me the kingdom.

Miss Cuthbert had given me clothes to wear and shoes, but after discussions upon discussion, we made an odd arrangement. In my occupation at the orphanage, I stole trousers from a boy. To my surprise, I had them with me. I wished to use it as evidence to explain to Miss Cuthbert about the lies from Geraldine, but it would cause too much conflict, so I did not dare. I had stolen them because I hated wearing dresses. It was uncomfortable, the texture was odd and wherever I went, other girls would flip the skirt to tease me. I wore them only when no one could see because I got horrific consequences for wearing them at first. Then when I found them in my trunk at Green Gables, I wondered if it was worth explaining to Miss Cuthbert the necessity of wearing them when doing chores, and for comfort. To my surprise, she agreed, but only when she did not have visitors and when I came inside, I needed to change.

Miss Cuthbert and I had grown our relationship a tidy bit stronger over those past fourteen days. Of course, she was still strict with me, but she had started to accept that I was there to stay, and she even showed gratitude for all I did.

She invariably told me that my help was incredibly beneficial for both her and Mr. Cuthbert. I appreciated everything of course, but sometimes between these days, it has gotten lonely. I felt like I was missing out on what children my age would be doing. The adventurous and curious side of me wanted to go to school, meet others at tea and picnics. I did know that my entire life I had always been wild of myself. I would rather go on long trips inside a forest than go in elegant dresses and drink tea. It seemed an arranged social situation that did not spark much for my imagination. However, the longing for experiences children my age get was strong.

It was midday, Monday. I had just finished up the early morning chores with the cows and the horses, collected all the eggs from the henhouse and I was now taking care of the dishes. I scrubbed a plate from every bit of food with a scrubbing brush, felt the warm water tingle on my skin. Almost automatically, I whistled as I dried the plate and hummed to myself. Then I walked over to where its home was, together with all the other plates.

The cabinet above the kitchen bench was rather far up. I looked up at it and paused the whistling letting out an annoying sigh. After fourteen days, one would have reckoned Miss Cuthbert would have placed a stool for me to climb on so I could reach the cabinet. I was not the tallest figure, and usually, she helped me arrange the plates carefully. Perhaps that was why a stool was not necessary, but today she was nowhere in sight and I was left alone to face the challenge.

Behind me was the dining table. A long, wooden dining table with a bench, and some stools for seating. I smirked as I came up with an idea to simply fetch a stool myself. I grasped ahold of one and lifted it from the floor, carrying it to the cabinet. Whistling, and carefully as I could, I seized the plates and positioned my foot on the stool, stretching myself up and finally reaching up to the cabinet.