A/N this a sort of prequel to my story “Love In Song” and is loosely based on a true story. I wrote this several years ago as a creative writing assignment. I have gone through and tried to change the names, but let me know if I missed any or if it is too confusing.

A New Beginning A pink curling iron with the name Vidal Sasoon written on it dangerously sat on the edge of a gritty, marble counter top only to be picked up moments later by a dissatisfied fourteen year old girl. Susan had changed the spelling of her nickname three years ago, much to the dismay of her mother. The girl, who had been living in unstable circumstances all her life, could not see why it would matter so much.

What’s in a name? she asked herself while gazing at her pimpled face in the mirror and frowned. The change had come along with a sort of identity crisis, mingled with false hope. S.U.Z.I.E will be more recognizable when I become famous. It sure beat’s Susy…. Susy’s in love. She cringed at the thought of her Uncle Stony Bologny Cheese Macaroni singing her that song, even though he sang well, was handsome and often mistaken for Eddie Van Halen.

Anyway, Stony was not around anymore. Suzie’s family had left him behind during last months move from Timbucktu.. The family bond was broken. Stony had married a girl who the family did not approve of. The girl had claimed she was pregnant for the past two years, and was still pregnant at this very moment. Suzie’s mother, Stony’s sister, claimed his spouse was deranged and lived in a fantasy world, that she was only making up her pregnancy to hang onto him. “Even an Elephant isn’t pregnant for that long!” she would say. But in a way, Suzie found herself feeling sorry for Lulu. Even she could not laugh at her Aunt. This girl had faced rejection in her own life.

After fighting with her hair, as she called it, Suzie unplugged the curling iron in disgust and headed out into the kitchen. Decorated with dark stained cabinets and puke green mini-blinds from the sixties, it was a less than cheery place. The stench of Budwiser Beer and Winston Cigarettes greeted the girl as she made her way over to the faucet for a drink of water. Just then, her sister’s plump, grey, calico cat jumped up onto the countertop and hurried over for a drink.

“GET DOWN FROM THERE!” Sarah, the girl’s mother scolded, shooing the cat away.

The cat sat on her back paws and gave Sarah a piercing stare. Suzie bent down to pet the cat mocking, “Oh, what’s the matter? Is Ms. Dizzy bitch kitty not feeling good today?”

“Susan Marie!” Sarah exclaimed as if she were horrified by her daughter’s use of language.

Dixie, the cat, put her ears back in annoyance.

“I can’t imagine her with kittens,” Suzie observed. “She’ll probably eat them. She hates everybody.”

“You’d better hurry up and eat or you’ll be late for school,” Sarah told her.

“I’ll eat at school.”

The last thing this girl wanted to do was be around when her sister, Rachel got up. Rachel would undoubtedly pick on her. Some of Rachel’s favorite pastimes were pinching Suzie with her toes, or the infamous tickle torture. And if she was in a bad mood, the name calling and horrendous insults would begin. Suzie did not understand why Rachel disliked her so much. She tried to keep her cool and remind herself that it was normal for sisters to fight. But it did nothing to console the hurt feelings that came about. Moments later, Suzie carried her books down their half a mile driveway, passing the Shetland ponies that were grazing in a nearby pasture. There was a male black one called Blackie, a brown horse with a white stripe on his nose called Sugar, and a brown mare who was expecting a foal. The horses did not belong to Suzie’s family. The family was renting this, a 25 acre ranch in hopes to one day buy it. Of course the girl doubted her parents would stay. In fact, coming here had been the family’s fifteenth move since she had been born. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to have grown up in San Diego, her birthplace, learning to surf on the ocean waves. She could almost taste the salt on her tongue if she thought about it long enough.

“I am a California girl,” she often told new friends that she met when moving to a new city, hoping it would gain her some sort of acceptance. While crossing the street to the bus stop she hummed… “I wish they all could be California… I wish they all could be California girls,” and wondered, “What is so special about California anyways?”

Near the bus stop stood a collection of rusted, old mail boxes. Suzie stared at the one with the number five on it and thought, You betrayed me. Her heart was broken now. After all, she had been pursuing a boy for about a year now. The only problem was that the boy lived about four hours away in a town near Houston called Conroe, a city where she herself had once lived. She had met Patrick back in the fourth grade and was often jealous of his other girl playmates, though she would never admit it. In the fifth grade, Patrick and Suzie were the best of friends, having a single thing in common, a television show called V. Suzie remembered the club they made together, how they and their other friends would re-enact scenes from the show at recess every Friday. Suzie played the role of the heroine, Juliet. In her eyes, Juliet was strong, invincible and had earned the respect of those around her. This was what Suzie longed to be. Her mind clouded over with storylines for a book she was writing about Julie, the book that she hoped would someday make her famous…

Okay, okay. Where was I? She thought, unaware that the bus was late. Donovan and Julie are on that plane going to New York -Where are we? Julie asked, noticing that the scenery below was more rugged than what she had anticipated.- In the sky, he answered, matter-of-factly, while hiding the fact that he had chose another route. A look of anger washed over Julie’s face as she said, “I have a hunch we’re not flying over Utah or Nevada. How could you do this to me? You know, Donovan, you should be a little more cautious because you know if I get caught with you, I’ll go to prison for treason. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you had more respect for me than that…

A slow smile spread across Suzie’s face as she thought, Damn, that was good. She had always loved writing the dialogue in her stories, especially when there was conflict involved. A pair of bright lights blinded her vision for a good second or two, and then she boarded the yellow school bus and sat by a girl known as The Unibrow because of the single eyebrow that ran from one temple to the other. Suzie had gathered up the nerve to ask Diane why she did not pluck, and the brunette girl revealed that her mother did not let her. And that was the end of it.

Along the way to school, the bus traveled along Route 5, passing old farm houses, fields of cattle grazing in the morning sun, peach tree orchards and patches of Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes. There was no doubt in Suzie’s mind that it was going to be a hot day today. How the flowers could bloom with so little rain, she could not guess. But one thing she knew for certain was that this was her chance to start over again, and she would make the most of it.

At school, Suzie enjoyed choir practice, but wondered when she would ever join the confidence to sing out like the other girls. She could feel the teacher, Old Mr. Jenkin’s staring her down as they sang a rendition of, “Earth Angel.” The choir usually sang popular tunes from the 1950’s. Suzie hoped for something a little more modern. Just last year, in Timbuktu, she had learned the melody for the theme from An American Tale, a movie about a little Russian Immigrant mouse named Fivel. Somewhere out there beneath the pale moon light, someone’s thinking of me and loving me tonight, the words echoed in her mind and her mouth seemed to be forming those words too. Jenkin’s stare grew a little wider, causing the girl to realize her mistake. She quickly gave him a smile… “Earth angel, earth angel. Will you be mine? My darling dear… love you all the time. I’m just a fool…” Her mind wondered and she started to think about Patrick again. The word fool was taking on a new meaning for her.

The ride home on the bus was even longer because the bus went to the highschool after picking up the kid’s from middle school. During this time, Suzie found solace in the pages of her favorite V book called, Death Tide… the one that she had ripped the cover off of so no one would know she was reading V. She hated the stereotype that came along with liking Science Fiction. But I don’t like the aliens, she reasoned with herself. Why do people have to judge people anyways? Glancing up from the pages of her book, Suzie noticed a poster board sign that had been posted on a street corner in downtown Fredricksburg. It read: PARTY AT Rachel SMITH’s HOUSE

MAY 15 B.Y.O.B !!

I forgot about the party, Suzie realized. What party? No one will show up anyway. She doesn’t know anyone. Rachel had dropped out of highschool just before the move here and spent most of her spare time moping over George, a boyfriend she had to leave behind in Timbuktu. Just a few times recently the older Smith girl had met with friends to go out cruising the backroads of Fredricksburg, just one highlight of being seventeen. Suzie envied her sister as she continued to think about the party for the remainder of the ride home, wondering if any cute guys would show up, and what would she wear?

Cars already had began to gather in the driveway when Suzie got home that afternoon. There were balloons and streamers lining the fence post where the horses stood waiting for their treat of carrots and apples. But Suzie was not in the mood. She was more concerned about the party-to-be and hurried inside the house letting the screen door slam behind her loudly.

On the living room floor amongst bright colored markers and poster board sat Suzie’s mother, Sarah, sister Rachel, and some other teenage girls whom Suzie did not recognize.

“How many do you think will come?” Suzie asked, setting her books down on the mahogany coffee table.

“Maybe twenty,” said Rachel, tossing her long blond hair back over her shoulders. “You better not embarrass me either.”

“Girls!” Sarah said, taping a pink balloon to a sign.

“Well, she’s such a dork,” Rachel complained. “Does she have to be here?”

Dixie the cat made her way over to Rachel and let out a discontented Meow.

“I’m sorry, Mama can’t show you no love, Dixie baby. I’m busy now.”

“What’s wrong with that damned cat anyway?” Sarah asked. “She’s been meowing all day.”

“MEOW!” the cat said again, as if she were desperately trying to get her point across. But her plea went ignored.

The hours passed and the crowd began to show up. Quickly, a small group of five cars had multiplied to about twenty, and then to thirty and so on. The teenagers gathered outside, getting drunk into the wee hours of the night. At one point, Suzie’s father, Kevin noted that there were at least 100 rowdy teenagers at the Smith home that night. He sat in the living room on the golden lazy boy recliner sipping his Budweiser Beer and watching Gone With The Wind, for what Suzie thought was the thousandth time, with her mother.

Maybe it’s their way of blocking out the party, Suzie thought and wondered if her father would make it through the night without beating up some teenage boy for flirting with Rachel. In the kitchen, Suzie filled up ice cube trays, after dumping their contents into a big bowl. She was playing waitress to the girls outside who wanted their wine coolers with ice.

Suzie nearly tripped over Dixie the cat while approaching the back screen door and Dixie let out another loud, “MEOW!”

“Shut that damned thing up already,” yelled Kevin over Gone With The Wind’s Prissie saying, “But I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies, Ms. Scahlett.”

Looking down at the panting cat, Suzie frowned. Dixie stared back at her with a look of helplessness.

“What?!” Suzie growled.

Again, Dixie let out a frantic, “MEOW”, and Suzie saw that there was something slimy making its way out of Dixie’s rear end.

The babies, Suzie thought then screamed frantically, “Hey mom! Dixie’s having her babies!”

“Your mom is asleep,” Kevin called back.

“Well she’s not my cat,” Suzie told her father. But Kevin ignored her.

Reaching down, Suzie scooped up the placenta wrapped, slimy kitten and Dixie then, put them in her room. She closed the door, then tiptoed outside. “Rachel!” she called out among the teenagers. The roar of laughter filled the night air as one of the handsome young men made a wise crack about another handsome young man.

“Rachel,” Suzie called again, stepping over a girl who had passed out on the back patio.

“What, Quazzy Moto?” answered Rachel who was sitting on a wooden picnic bench. The others laughed.

Suzie tried to ignore the remark, but still it hurt. She did not think her sister deserved the friends who had come to her party.

“Your cat’s having babies,” she said.

Rachel’s smile faded into an expression of seriousness. “Right now? Crapola!”

“Awww,” said a girl with dark hair and eyes who was in the arms of a tall guy sporting a Cowboy hat.

Turning to go back inside, Suzie hoped that her sister would follow, but realized that would mean calling it a night with the party goers. And that seemed impossible.

“Do me a favor,” Rachel begged. “Just this once.”

“What?” asked Suzie knowingly.

“Stay with Dixie for me. I’ll do the dishes for you tomorrow, I swear.”

“Please, Suzie,” came the chorus from the others.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” said another guy. “Your sister really loves you. She was going on about how nice you are.”

Yeah right, she guessed he was lying and had his own intentions for wanting to keep Rachel out here.

“I really do,” Rachel added.

“All right,” said Suzie, having her own gut feeling that they would not leave her alone until they gave in. But I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies, she thought, heading back inside, and grabbed a cardboard box from the laundry room on her way in.

When Suzie returned to her room she found Dixie sprawled on the carpet, chewing away at the gooey sac of another kitten and licking its face.

You’re not eating it? she thought and put the box down on the floor. Dixie began to pant again as another labor pain ripped through her body. Blind and helpless, the first and second kittens crawled to Dixie’s stomach and began to nurse.

“Aunt Lulu was pregnant when George bought you for Rachel,” Suzie told the cat moments later while watching Dixie clean the third kitten. “And you’re not a baby anymore. You have your babies, and Lulu is still pregnant?”

Suzie wondered if Dixie would prefer to have Rachel at her side now. So she proceeded to explain the situation to the cat. “Momma’s out there flirting with those boys. They’re more important than you are.”

She did not know why she was trying to make Dixie feel bad now, of all times. But Dixie did not seem to care anyhow. She was delivering her fourth baby, a little dark gray one like her. Suzie was disappointed. Just a few weeks before this she had asked her father, if Dixie had a tan kitten, could she keep it for herself? And he agreed to it. Neither of them felt it was possible. Suzie had never seen a tan cat before and just thought it would be really unique if one of Dixie’s babies turned out to be that pretty shade of tan that was in her front paw. And just then it happened. Dixie delivered a fifth and final baby. Once she had cleaned it and its fur dried, Suzie saw that it was tan. She could hardly believe it.

Well, at least I got something out of missing the party, she soon realized. When Dixie was relaxed and nestled in her box, Suzie went to share the news of five new kittens with the crowd.

“Rachel, we have five babies now,” she called out, tripping over the girl who had passed out cold on the concrete.

“Aww…” said Rachel happily covering her mouth for a quick yawn.

Suzie looked around at the empty cans scattered about and realized that she truly did get the better end of the bargain and there was no way she would get suckered into cleaning up this mess.

The whine of the back door opening caught Suzie off guard and she jumped. She turned around to see that it was her father appearing as though he had just woken up from a nap.

“It’s time to call it a night,” he said.

Rachel shook her head yes. It was clear that she was zonked. “It’s time to home go,” she mumbled, half asleep. She tried to stand up, but quickly sat back down and closed her eyes.

Suzie giggled.
“Great,” said her father angrily.

Suzie watched him take in his surroundings which led to a more discontented expression on his face.

“IT’S TIME TO GO HOME!” he shouted.

The boy with the cowboy hat whom Rachel had been socializing with earlier sat up in his chair mumbling, “Mmmm I don’t feel so good.” He took off his hat, letting it fall onto the ground.

Suzie turned her head knowing what was to come next. She heard the young man puke then, flashed her father a helpless grin.

“Do you think this is funny?” he accused.

“I’m just glad it’s not me,” she confessed and feigned a yawn. “I’m soooooo tired. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

She started to walk past her father and he grabbed her arm saying, “Nice try. I need your help.”

“I’m just a kid, Dad. They won’t listen to me,” she begged. “Besides, I did my good deed for the night, didn’t I?”

“Uh,” said a short young man with curly brown hair as he came up to the patio. “There’s like a major traffic jam out here. What do we do?”

Suzie stepped over to the fence with her father and watched as the various rows vehicles tried to back up without hitting one another, all in a space that was no bigger than the barn. Over the noise of loud country music a crash could be heard.

“GET OFF MY TAIL, MAN!” screamed the guy in the small Toyota Camry.

A guy wearing a trench coat got out from the Suburban behind the Camry and started to walk towards the driver in the Camry. Suzie felt her heart quicken, sensing that a fight was about to break out. Her father climbed over the chain length fence.

“Hey guys,” he called to them.

“Back off, Dude,” whispered the guy in the Camry to the adolescent who was coming after him. “It’s her old man.”

“How about one of you help me direct traffic,” Kevin Smith suggested.

“All right,” the young men answered together.

Suzie watched as another car backed up and crashed into the barn sending the structure crashing down onto the ground. The unmistakable sound of a horses nay echoed into the night air.

“PEPPER!” Suzie cried out. She was not as daring to climb the fence as her father. She ran to the gate and opened it then proceeded to the barn.

“Whoa,” said one of the male partygoers in awe as she ran past him.

“MY HORSE!” she screamed. “Somebody help me!”

When she got to the site she could barely make out the black horses figure, pinned underneath some of the boards. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Pepper,” she whispered helplessly.

“GET BACK, Suzie!” her father warned.

But Suzie ignored him, ducking under a wooden rail fence and heading into the wooden wreckage. Under the canopy of the damaged barn roof it was nearly pitch black. Suzie felt her way inside. A shard of wood pierced her fingers and she flinched. Undaunted, she continued in her plight.

“Pepper?” she called out again. But the only noise she heard was that of the sound of snapping wood and her father yelling outside.

“Susan Marie, GET OUT OF THERE!”

The remaining support beams began to give way and a board smacked Suzie in her tear stricken face. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled her way to an outlet just as everything that was left of the building came crashing down.

“Suzie!” her father exclaimed when he saw her.

She scrambled to her feet, brushing the dirt from her jeans.

“I couldn’t find him, Dad,” she sobbed.

She was hugged by her father briefly, but it seemed as though he was preoccupied and he started to run towards the house. Suzie stood there and cried. Through blurred vision she watched her sister’s friends still trying to make their escape, but they were unsuccessful. Minutes later, the sound of sirens drew nearer and nearer. Suzie guessed that her father had called the cops and she prayed for him, assuming that the local police were not to keen on newcomers who threw underage drinking parties. She wondered if her father would go to jail that night.

And so the night had come a close with a bang. The police, who ended up letting Kevin Smith off with a warning, helped direct the teenagers off of the property. Those who had passed out stayed the night on their concrete and grass beds. Some of the partiers promised to return the next day and help clean up the mess. When it came to tearing down what was left of the barn, the Shetland Pony called Pepper was found dead. The Smith’s buried the animal the following afternoon.

As Suzie stood there watching them put Pepper in the ground, she thought of her new kitten and hoped that it would keep her company for many years. In the weeks that followed Suzie grew to love the little kitten. Enhancing the kitten’s tan fur were orange stripes. He reminded Suzie of sunshine so she called him Soliel, which is French for sun. And he became a ray of hope in her life.

As for the book that Suzie was writing, it was completed eight years later and submitted to the Mark Sullivan Literary Agency in New York. Four months later, Suzie received her first standard form-style rejection letter. She later decided to go to college, still hoping to become a professional writer.

The End