(Small Fry Chapter 3)
Just as I turned to leave, I noticed something. It was a red trunk which looked worn with time. It was half hidden, underneath another cardboard box and for the life of me, I don’t remember seeing it before. But I felt this undeniable urge to investigate, or maybe it was one of my all-knowing feelings?
“B!” I heard the distant call of my husband. “Your brunch is ready!”
Quickly, I walked over and lifted the other box off the red trunk then I sunk to my knees beside. When I opened the lid, the hinges squealed in protest as a huge cloud of dust came up. It sent me into a sneezing frenzy!
“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”
My sensitive nose objected, as I spluttered and waved my hand through the air to clear it. But when I looked inside, I accidentally let out a squeal! I felt like I just hit the jackpot.
“B?” He hollered. “What are you doing up there?”
“Then come downstairs and do nothing, while you eat your brunch!”
“Alright already!” I snapped back.
I looked inside the trunk again at the old baby clothing, a couple of framed photos as well as some old books. But these weren’t just ordinary books, they were more diaries! When I opened up the covers, I saw the names ‘Clara Winter’ as well as ‘Jessica Tandy’. They were my great grandmother as well as my great, great grandmother, from my Riverclaw family.
Bingo! They were just what I was hoping for, after my previous conversation. It looks like Declan doesn’t have to approach Caesar after all.
I picked up the framed photos for a closer look. There was a picture circa late 20th Century, of a pretty, blonde woman standing with a handsome, Lokoti man. The woman had a baby bulge, protruding through her thick jacket. I was looking on my great, great grandfather Flint Riverclaw and his mate Jessica. She had been namesake of my mother, since she died before Mum was born. According to Grandfather, Mum also inherited the original Jessica’s temper too.
“B, your toasted sandwiches are turning cold!” He complained.
Hastily, I put the photo frame back and shut the lid. I stood up again as I dusted myself off, when my eyes landed on the new box I had just brought up. I made myself a silent promise that I’d return to visit my foremothers soon; the women who’d been the mates of my Lokoti Werewolf forefathers. I pushed the box of Wisetail family memorabilia closer to the trunk, so my foremothers would be waiting together.
Lastly, I climbed down the attic ladder, closed the hatch and happily skipped downstairs.