Emily woke up every day with a chip on her shoulder. She

was mad at the world. So what if she is eight? 'Eight is

great'� she thought to herself. However, self-soothing

only worked a third of the time. No sooner then morning

rolled around, the reality set in as did the rising sun

in the pale, blue skies over Hannapee. A modest little

village that had more twists and turns than a pretzel.

And Emily, well she kind of liked that. Especially when

she played hide and seek. Kids had a 'dickens'� of a time

finding her. She likened her eyes, a pale brown glazed

over with pain to that of the stormy Hannapee skies. Wide

eyes that once shimmered like topaz paling in comparison.

Unlike that of her childish frame, fragile and none the

wiser was she. 'That child's been here before'� the old

folks shucked her wit up to. 'And smart too!'� 'Well if

I'm so smart she thought to herself; how did I end up in

this quandary?'� 'Q-u-a-n-d-a-r-y she spelled it out loud.

Means a fine mess I've gotten myself into.'� A big word

for such a little girl. She learned it reading all those

fancy, new-fangled books she got from the Hannapee

library and she swore to remember it since she was in

one. She pondered day after day as to why she was left

all alone in an abandoned shack. Alone with nothing more

than a tarnished pair of hand-me-down, patented leather

shoes that like her eyes had long lost their luster and

a 'Nutty Buddy. A funny doll that wiggles, giggles and

tells silly jokes; fit for boys even but wouldn't hear of

it let them tell it. 'Angel'� was his namesake and don't

let his looks fool you. For when she slept, he kept

watch. Other girls thought her odd playing with a 'boy'�

doll. Not to be outdone, she would hush 'em up by

saying 'how silly!'� 'It is not a boy doll, it is a funny

doll.'� And hush up quickly they did for seldom was Emily

ever at a loss for words for she had learned many. Sugar

Shack her home was called. Off of third and ninth. Sugar

Shack was once the finest candy store in town and any kid

who was worth his salt, rather sugar shopped there. It

was once after all, a proverbial child's dream come true.

Everything from lollipops to lemonade was sold.

Everyday, she'd find herself often circling the

neighborhood twice over, taking long double breaths as

the smell of cotton candy swirled in her nostrils like it

did on the paper cones it came on. She fancied that, oh

yes. She'd let her imagination drift, carrying her away

on the sugary concoction that formed a cotton candy cloud

of sweet dreams. Sugar Shack in its 'heyday'� was all she

dreamed of. As would any kid with a sweet tooth. It had a

little section with a nook that she would cozy up and

read. Mr. Tucker, the owner allowed her to make it her

own being a good reader and all. She even scribbled her

name in red, no. #2 crayon. Now all that was left is dust

and cobwebs in the little corner. Her name fading from

sight into the rotting wood. Could her life possibly

come to mean just a 'little'� more than the hand that fate

had dealt her? She was after all an only child and that

was the only solace her situation afforded her. Why?

Because there was no one else to worry about and no one

to worry about her should separation have torn apart what

was once held together by a loving family. She'd like to

think so and so she did. She pretended that she was a

little princess in a castle made of glass. Not for

looking into but for looking out of. Out at the big

world, like the one encased in domed glass with the

exception of snow flakes that fell gently in the globe

when she was done shaking it. Glass that allowed her to

look out and for others to look in to see just how happy

she truly was. Emily had one good friend; Angel. Sure he

didn't look like much. Nor did he seem to care for

looking glasses and all. He was old and raggedy with two

good working legs but missing an arm. The other was

missing just a few seams, the shoulder still intact. His

clothes, tattered and torn like hers were fashioned from

pieces of fabric quilted together from potato sacks and

onion bags from the Farmer's Market just up the street.

Thank goodness over time the odor had long worn off. But

onions go nicely with cheeseburgers and she found herself

sniffing on him to form scent memories. The roof was

still intact but with a couple of busted windows, the

night air often crept in with a chill ridding the shack

of stench. Day's end it is. Who knew what the 'morrow'�

might bring. Her eyes grew heavy as did her heart from

the weight of her fears. Not of the cold and dark nights

but of never having a family or friends. When other kids

dared to enter, she would 'boo'� them with a raspy sound

that echoed through the hollowed walls. And

the 'snooper's'� she called 'em, would high tail it

quicker than you could say 'red rover, come on over!'� So

the mysteries of the Sugar Shack prevailed and kept more

than kids away. No one came any more. It would seem that

little Emily had outdone herself. Then one day

as fate would have it, kindly strangers happened upon the

decayed steps that broke beneath their feet signaling to

a startled Emily at unawares, that someone was

coming! 'Hello'� a voice called out but Emily didn't

answer. The door squeaked from age and made the most 'god-

awful screeching sound.'� We've got to get that fixed

first thing'� a voice said. 'First thing'� another replied'�

that of a lady, the other a man. Steps continued

throughout and Emily darted snuggly under the nook and

scooted back as far as she could from sight. Alas! She

missed something! Although she kept the nook squeaky

clean, there was a spot of dust and a 'hachoo!'� alerted

them to her presence. 'Who's there!'� the man's voice

called out. 'Boo!'� Emily moaned hoping to frighten them

off. 'Boo! Boo who?'� the man inquired. Emily

answered 'quit your crying and go!'� Emily chuckled to

herself thinking she had gotten the better of them. 'Very

funny'� the man thought to himself. 'Very clever'� the

woman thought to herself. Undeterred the woman,

apparently the wife of the strange man determined the

origin of the voice and tip-toed over to Emily peeking

underneath. She motioned with one finger for her husband

to come and with the other she placed over pursed lips to

hush him as not to frighten her. He pulled back the

table and greeted Emily with eyes that glistened in the

only beam of sunlight. 'Hi there!'� the woman gushed with

a big smile. Emily peeked her head out and said 'hi'� to

their surprise. 'My aren't you pretty'� the man said. 'No,

I'm Emily'� she replied. 'This is my nook and cranny.'�

Nodding, the man said 'I see. Well I do apologize for the

intrusion Emily. We, my wife and I just bought this

store.'� Emily asked with a firm tone 'for what?'� 'Why to

rebuild of course! The Sugar Shack was here when we were

kids. We have none of our own so we want every child to

enjoy it like we once did by restoring it.'�

'Nook, cranny and all!'� A smile like the sun rose on

Emily's face and she emerged from underneath her little

haven, shaking hands with the kind strangers. Kind

strangers who not only restored the Sugar Shack but her

dreams of having a family. The kind strangers adopted

Emily and she became Emily Sweet. Emily's nook came to

be known as Emily's Corner, a place for readers. Why she

even traced over her name in a red no. #3 crayon, an

improvement! And there it remained. From time to time

Emily wondered whatever happened to her real family.

Often times she found herself in tears. Tears that could

not be always be comforted by the 'Sweets'� although she

loved them. Hence; there was Angel. Angel was so much

more than just a funny doll. He was a guardian Angel of

sorts. He was a shoulder to cry on and so she did.

Whether tears of joy or sorrow; Angel proved to be a

trusty companion even when Emily found herself in a

'q-u-a-n-d-a-r-y.'� So Emily held on tight as the evening

sun drifted from sight, until day became a star dusted

and moon lit night giving way to Emily's 'Sweet'� dreams*

The End

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...