30 Day Writing Challenge

Day 3: Write a story that takes place pre-1950

I stared out the round porthole of the S.S. Lily watching the shore begin to move, passing me by. My crumpled handkerchief lay discarded on the floor as I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, the heat from my body fogging the window. I sighed as the port of Nanaimo gradually grew smaller and farther away, the ship steaming its way steadily from my family and my hometown.

I had said my goodbyes with tears in my eyes, patting my beloved dog on her soft black head and tried not to look at her liquid caramel eyes so trusting and loving. My parents hugged me tightly and told me I would be fine in the big city. My little brother Jonathan of nine years burst into tears and clung to my skirts, putting my mother's careful ironing job to waste. I knelt on the wet dock, hearing my mother tsk sharply, and lifted Jonathan's chin. I planted a wet red kiss on his cheek and he giggled, wiping the lipstick from his face.

"I will be back to visit very soon brother," I promised. "Now, you must be a good boy and listen to mama and papa, so that when they write me they can tell me how good you are, and that I can come visit you."

Jonathan nodded and smiled, crocodile tears still in his eyes and my heart melted.

My sister Emma stepped forward with a small velvet box in her hand. She held it out to me shyly.

"What is it?" I asked as I took it in my hands.

"Open it and see," she beamed.

I opened the navy blue box, noticing how soft the velvet felt under my work hardened fingers. Inside on yellowing satin lay a gold locket on a thin chain. I lifted it from the case and inspected it. On the back were my initials, A.S.M., Anna Sarah Macintosh. I gasped and looked up at my sister and she grinned, as did my parents.

"Look inside," Emma said.

I opened the oval locket and inside was a tiny photo of my family. Tears sprang to my eyes and I sniffed. My father handed me his handkerchief and I blew my nose in a most unladylike fashion.

It was then that the whistle blew signaling time to board. I gave each member of my family a kiss and turned to traverse the shaky walkway up to the large steamer vessel. A porter picked up my trunk and motioned for me to follow him. I did so halfheartedly, turning every few steps to wave at my family, their bodies shrinking as I made my way up to the ship. The porter set my trunk down and notified me I would have to bring it to my room on my own if I insisted on keeping such a slow pace. I glared at him and he winked, picked up the trunk, and asked me what number my stateroom was. I informed the porter I was booked for room 328 and he threw the trunk over his shoulder and disappeared down the corridor whistling. I assumed he was headed for my stateroom.

I clung to the railing and waved to my family. The ship's whistle sounded, making me wince and cover my ears with my hands. Steam billowed out of the smokestack and the engines roared. I could see the men far below me untying the colossal ropes from the dock and tossing them over the edge. Noise and sound filled my ears and I watched the busy dock-men, the milling passengers and the bustling crew. As the steamer began to pull away I waved wildly to the tiny toylike figures standing on the pier. Three figures waved back and a smaller figure jumped up and down waving both hands. I giggled and put my hands in the pockets of my cozy autumn coat. I pulled out my fathers handkerchief which I had forgotten to return to him. I whirled it in the air until my arm began to feel sore. Slowly, my family grew smaller, and the sunlight began to wane, the sky turning pink as the sun went to sleep. The air chilled and the porters began to light the gas lamps on deck.

Tears welled up in my eyes as when I could no longer make out the shapes of my parents and siblings on the shore and I turned on my heel to find my room. Stopping at the door marked 328, I pulled a key from my pocket and turned the lock. I entered a warm room, the kerosene lamp lit dimly for me, and I caught sight of my trunk sitting on the overstuffed wood backed chair. I flipped the clasps and opened the mahogany trunk gazing at my neatly packed clothes and shut the lid with a bang. I sunk into the chair beside the window and looked out the window at the quickly disappearing shoreline. No matter what the city of Vancouver held for me, I would miss my family terribly.

When the sun went down and darkness enveloped the ship, I stood, squared my shoulders, and went to my trunk to find a dress to wear to supper. It was 1910 and I was eighteen years of age, old enough to survive on my own. I was not going spend my evening crying and moping. I, Anna Sarah Macintosh am a seamstress going to Madame Elinor's shop to learn of fashion and to be her apprentice. I will not be seen as a child who needs to go back to her mother.

With that, I headed out of the room to dine with the rest of the passengers.