1
Cressida stood on the porch, looking around her. The Westminster Abbey stood in the distance; it would be two O’clock in the afternoon when the Georgian clock had sounded.
This was a hot day in July; the sun shone feverously onto the ground. Everything looked scorched and drowsy, the Abbey stood still and silent. A group of birds were soaring high above, trying to escape the hot sun.
“It’s so hot!” Cressida exclaimed! Yes, it was hot. She and her father had just moved into this little cabin that was beside a Resting Home (or nursing home). Her father had rented it a couple of weeks ago. She could hear the elderlies laughing. The Resting House looked rather like a clinic; it was a one-story villa; the roof was made of shiny, dark blue tile, while its four sides were covered with natural, bumpy, rock tiles.
Cressida was a girl about nine, who had silky brown hair that was braided stiffly into a long braid. She had a round face, and brown eyes from her mother. Her skin was slightly tanned. She was not very tall, and was not charming.
The driveway was opposite the Resting Home. Cars zoomed by every minute. Cressida would walk to school by herself beside the driveway. She always walked to school alone since she did not want to have a conversation with anyone. She was afraid people would ask about her parents, and that was what she never hoped to talk about.
Her mother was a fashionable woman. She married Cressida’s father and had Cressida. However, mom was not pleased with Cressida’s father. Cressida’s father was a man that was very different from her mother. Her father was quiet and could be easily offended, while her mother was open and loved to show up and talk to everyone. Thus, her parents were very different from each other. After they divorced, Cressida’s father became even quieter, and changed a lot.Since Cressida’s parents divorced, her father always came home late at night; Cressida scarcely saw him. Then he would leave early in the morning, and go to work, leaving some toasted bread for Cressida.
Cressida stood quietly, still pondering these things. The clock sounded two times; the sound was low, as it echoed throughout the whole city, till it disappeared into the countryside.
It was Sunday. “Chapel time for the nuns,”Cressida whispered. She had just learned about the Abbey in her Geography Class-Catholic nuns lived rest of their lives there. The Abbey looked like a huge building that isolated its away from the world.
She did not understand why people would isolate themselves like that. “Religion?” Cressida said to herself, still pondering.
She walked back into the cabin and opened her book. She started previewing the lessons for tomorrow.
2
The next day was a hot day too. Cressida was packing her books when Mrs. Lewis came into the cabin. Mrs. Lewis was an elderly who lived in the Resting Home. Cressida had met her the first day she moved into the cabin with her father.Mrs. Lewis was a nice woman, who loved children.
She knitted all day for children. Little woolly dresses with little yellow and pink flowers embroidered on them; or gentlemanly vests and sweaters that were knitted out of black wool.
When she heard a little girl moving into the cabin close by, she started to sew beautiful, elegant dresses for Cressida. The dresses were mostly pink and blue, made of soft cloth that were for susceptible skin. After she met Cressida, she soon became her friend. Cressida loved her warm smile that lit up the day. She was kind and loving like a mother to Cressida.
“Cressida?” Mrs. Lewis began,
“Yes, Mrs. Lewis?” Cressida answered, turning her attention away from her backpack.
“I can see you’re packing for school.”
“That’s right. Anything you need to tell me?”
“I do not want to see you walking to school alone. You need company, child! Walking to school alone is not good.” Mrs. Lewis’ voice was high, showing this was very important.
“Why?” Cressida’s voice was even higher.
“You’ll find out by yourself.” Was the answer.
Cressida nodded gently, picked up her bag, and disappeared out the door, as Mrs. Lewis walked back into the Resting Home.
The sun was shining brightly and warmly, making the edges of the trees golden brown. The bitumen road was pitch black, with stained-yellow stripes drawn across it. Students were walking together on the grey, rocky sidewalk. Some were walking quietly, while some chattered clamorously. But all of them had a partner or two; seldom were walking alone.
Cressida was dressed in her school uniform. The school uniform was a dress that was knee-long with a deep blue color; a patch was printed on the shoulder. She was walking alone, behind all the laughing children.
She was still thinking about what Mrs. Lewis had said... “You need company, child! Walking to school alone is not good.” But then the thought of her mother and father flashed up again. She didn’t want to talk about it!
Finally, she arrived at school. Again, she saw laughing and chattering children. Then she turned around; this was a familiar sight: the schoolhouse stood before her. The schoolhouse was not very tall, but long and wide. Its colors were based on browny-red. There were two roofs of different height. The low one worked like an umbrella, stretching out from the schoolhouse; while the higher one was like a normal roof, tilting from each side.
Two flag poles stood a few yards from the front of the schoolhouse. The flag of England was on one, while the other stood blank without a flag.
Cressida rushed into the schoolhouse and crashed into her classroom. “For goodness’ sake, Cressida！Be careful!” Her teacher exclaimed, looking at her.
The other children turned from the shelves and looked at her half mockingly. “Here comes Cressida!” One spoke. Cressida blushed, and turned away from her classmates, half running to her seat.
That day, Cressida did not pay attention to the class. She was called five times by her teacher to pay attention and got a “C” for the day. “What’s wrong, Cressida?” Her teacher had been asking her this many times. During the day Cressida did not give her the true answer; every time her teacher asked her what was wrong, all she said was, “I’m fine; perhaps just tired.” And with this, she would bend back to her study book, trying to figure out the answer.
Her teacher looked at her anxiously, figuring what happened to this child. Cressida was always a good student, quiet, and obedient. She could almost get all the problems right, every single time. She would always have an A+ or an A at the end of the day. That was why she was in the lead of her class. Even though what she had accomplished was impressive, she had no friends in school; not even one.
But today was different; Cressida was poor in her subjects; she got a C. “Why should I have friends?” She asked herself, “I do not need friends!”
She kept thinking-during sport time, quiet reading time, class time, schoolwork time; till school was over. On the way home, she realized she had done poorly today! A “C” was written roughly on every page of her schoolwork. She sighed, wishing she could’ve done better. But it was too late; she had NOT been paying attention.
The sun was sinking beautifully into the horizon; the sky was bright pink, while the clouds spread across the sky like the surface of a lake. Birds soared lazily in the evening breeze. In the background, Finley Elementary turned into a dark color without the light of the sun. It was getting dark.
It was already dark when Cressida arrived back home. Surprisingly, her father was already home! He sat on the couch reading the newspaper. “You’re back, Cressida?” He mumbled, still reading the newspaper, “Did you have a great time?”
Cressida didn’t know what to tell her father. Should she say, “I did poorly today?” No- she could not say so.
“Well, I’m fine.” Cressida replied untruthfully. Her father put down the newspaper and looked at her deliberately. “You look like you’ve been having a bad day!” He said in a hushed voice, “I can see that.”
Cressida remained silent and turned to her room. Her father looked at her apprehensively. His tanned face was now filled with wrinkles of perplexity. He didn’t understand why his daughter was so closed off to him; was it because he hadn’t been spending time with her? Cressida had never spoke so superficially to him. She always told him the truth and had trusted him to help her. He didn’t know what was wrong. Deep in his heart he feared-perhaps Cressida had found out what he had been hiding from her, the terrible secret. Cressida would probably be shocked if she knew this.
Cressida sat quietly in her room, figuring what she had done wrong. “But father shouldn’t have been so odd to me.” She thought, “Then I could tell him the truth, right? Seems like he has been hiding something from me.” Yes. Her father WAS hiding something from her. But then, perhaps she was too small to know. It would be too hard for her to bear.
The sky outside was starless; the moon was hidden behind the pitch-dark clouds. If it was not of the streetlight, the whole place would be a murky black. The father and daughter were inconceivable to each other. They were having a hard time. Neither of them had dinner that night, for no one made dinner. They were both upset with each other.
Cressida woke up starving. She looked at the clock-it pointed at half past 3. It was then that she remembered she hadn’t had dinner. The moon was out, Cressida could see it out her window. The moon was shining brightly, it was a whole moon.
She loved the bright moon; she remembered going out to see the moon every night with her parents when she was little. Sometimes, the moon would play hide-and-seek with them. It would hide behind the big, long clouds; then it would appear again after a while. It looked as if the moon was always moving.
Cressida roused out of bed, and tip toed out of her room, into the kitchen. She could hear her father’s snore from the couch. The kitchen was dark,she could still smell burned bread from yesterday. Ants were having their way with the burned bread, biting and carrying it away.
She got out some cold bread from the refrigerator. It was small, about Cressida’s height; one of the few furnitures they had, and second-handed. Though it was small, it was useful. It could hold all the food Cressida and her father needed.
Without toasting the bread, Cressida gobbled it in two bites, then gulped down a glass of milk like a hungry wolf. She returned to her room without waking her snoring father.
And temporally this ended the silent confrontation between Cressida and her father. But only temporally. This did not last forever.
TO BE CONTINUED...
