Intuition Feelings

By Edna M. Collins

This story is a Cinderella story about a girl who is too beautiful for her own good. One who has had some saving graces, feelings, hunches, and intuitions. She finds it hard to make friends.

Even as a first grader teachers resented her. That was the pattern but she knew why. The book tells her story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491710319

Edna M. Collins

Edna wanted to write since childhood. When she was six years old she wrote short stories. Her father thought she was talented, and submitted them to childhood magazines. They never heard from them and to add to disappointment Edna heard her mother tell her father ‘Don’t encourage her, you are teaching her to lie.’ Many years later, Edna’s husband in the Marines, her children in school, Edna had time on her hands. She joined a writing group, she wanted to try again. Edna wrote a murder mystery under an assumed name, ‘Kathryn Butting Cox’, published by Phoenix Books, New York. The book sold and she felt she was on her way. Her husband returned home from the Marines, his remark was, “I’ll be the bread winner here, I’ll never be called Mr. Edna.” Those were very different times. Edna put her writing dreams aside. Edna became a widow and her children grown, she began to write again at age ninety, and this is her final book at age 99. Her books to date are: “Murder in the Garden” “The Scent of a Stranger” “Who killed Who- The Little Dog Knew” “The Woman was a Devil” “Peter Lauch - 1735-1839“

Book preview

Chapter 1

To be born pretty is a gift, but to come into the world extremely beautiful is a curse. Auburn hair, blue-green eyes and skin like fine porcelain; finds this child in a different world.

Boys and men can’t handle anything this lovely. She frightened them, they felt inadequate and girls and women hated her. The old adage of sour grapes applied.

Her fathers name was Pat, her mothers name was Mary, the last was Irish, Meegan. So the newborn was baptized Mary Pat Meegan, a name that would rock the small town of Roseville, Pennsylvania.

From the start she was the favorite in the hospital. When the time of day appeared, called feeding time, the young nurses would push and say, Look here! It’s my turn to carry the baby.

The year is 1916, and Daddy was on his way home from Camp Hood to meet his new family.

At three years of age, Mary Pat became aware of her differences. When they went anywhere, people without child would stop, point their finger and say, Look at that beautiful child, she heard words like she could be in the movies. But a mother with a child would pretend not to notice her.

The next thing Mary Pat endured was in first grade, she was set apart. The young Nun was determined not to play favorites. She would call her last, even though Mary Pat knew the answer and have her hand up before most.

One day a child who was jealous took a piece of chalk from the blackboard sill, and planted it in Mary Pat’s lunchbox, then told the Nun that she saw Mary Pat steal it and put in her tin lunch pail.

Sister, with her black robe flowing, grabbed the six year old and with her long wooden pointer, began to beat Mary Pat. The boys laughed and the girls smirked and the 1st grader cried and never, ever forgot the lie or the liar.

Then, in 4th grade her mother thought it would be nice to have a birthday party for her child. There were twenty four in her class. Mary Pat was handed twenty four invitations to be give to her classmates. We will make no differences, her mother proudly announced. We have invited the entire class to come to the party.

Mary Pat took the invitations and waited for her chance. When no one was looking the child went to the basement, opened the furnace door and tossed all twenty four bids into the fire. I won’t give them a chance to insult me or my mother, she told the flames, as she watched the blaze consume the party invitations.

Mary Pat had only a few girl friends, not real friends. They knew she always had some small amount of money in her purse. They were glad to go coking at the drug store or to a movie, and one or the other was broke. This was when she was fourteen and a fully bloomed beauty, who could have passed for eighteen, and was aware of the opposite sex. These girls told stories, lies, and bragged about their boyfriends.

When the child saw her mother getting things ready for the birthday party, she told her mother no one can come.

Growing up fast the fourteen year old discovered that she had a most unusual gift in Math, you could call a matter of judgment.

One time at a girl friends house the friend produced a glass jar filled with quarters. I’ve been saving these for quite awhile, Ella teased. Let’s see how smart you are! How much money do you think I have in this? It was a question with a thorn, because Mary Pat had a reputation among her friends, that she was part witch.

Mary Pat took the jar, looked at its shine and glow, I’d say $40.00.

No, how can you do that? That is the truth, there is exactly $40.00! Maybe the kids are right, some say you have the devil behind your blue-green eyes!, Ella laughed.

Just a lucky guess! Who says that about me? Mary Pat didn’t wait for a answer, because she knew who they were.

How many double rolls of wallpaper do you think I’ll need to do this room? Her mother asked Mary Pat.

Eight rolls, with ten inches to spare. Mary Pat was exactly right.

Way back when Mary Pat was in grade school she could read the math question, she knew the answer, but could not do the work to prove the answer. More than once she was accused of cheating or was told she had found the answer in the back of the book. Not true, Mary Pat had not even peeked.

Another time when they had a young man dinner guest, Mary Pat looked him over and later said, Dad, I don’t like that man, the way he was trying to pump you, he is after your job!

No, no you are wrong sweetheart, he is a fine young man. Good family, good school and a nice fellow to work with!

Six months later, her father asked his daughter, How did you know that Dan Matters was after my job? Then without waiting for an answer, Pat turned to his wife and said, Do you think we have witch in the household?

Mary laughed, Shame on you, what a thing to say! I’m glad she didn’t hear you, Pat.

Mary Pat did hear the remark, but it didn’t disturb her. What did bother the young girl, was her tendency to count things, generally objects. Since the 6th grade she had tried to overcome this habit. If the girl was holding something in her hand, like a bunch of grapes, she would count each as she ate them. If she were putting silverware away, she would try to stop herself when she became aware or even if she were slicing tomatoes or celery she would count, 1-2-3… . and then stamp her foot and not go on.

Mary Pat didn’t know where this habit had come from, but she was inclined to blame her mother who had called to her after volunteering to take down the wash from the clothesline.

Remember now, count every clothes pin! I need them all! Mary Pat followed orders. This remark was heard every time Mary Pat helped with the wash.

At dinner time the mother had used a large black iron frying pan to bake a chicken pie. Without thinking she reached into the oven, bare handed, for the red hot handle and screamed in pain. Get the butter! Get the butter! She had seared the skin off the palm of her hand and she was in a lot of pain. Mary Pat took the palm to her mouth and blew her breath upon the wound, Nine times hot, nine times cool!, to the dismay of her mother and father. The pain was gone.

Mary looked her daughter in the eye, Where did you learn that? I can’t believe this, it is unbelievable!

The depression of 1929 was threatening the world. Roseville was a bit different, because a lot of people worked for the state government. Still at the age of 16, she did listen to the radio. Dad she asked, will we be alright, will the depression affect us, will we be okay?

Like how honey, I have a good job, we have money in the Farmers Trust. This thing will work itself out. This sort of scare happens every five or six years, just a period of adjustment. We will be fine. Pat thought he had settled the question.

Daddy, the girl persisted, you have $45,000 dollars in that bank, please take it out!

Then, what do you think we could do with the money? Pat was showing his temper and offered, Put it under the mattress? He returned to his paper that he shook to even the pages. Then he turned to his wife, Did you tell her how much we have in the bank?

No Pat, I didn’t want to worry her about our affairs, his wife Mary added, half under her breath. She could be right!

Mary Pat dared to speak once more, Please Daddy, take the money out of the bank! That’s a lot of money! The two glared at each other. Pat left the room slamming the door behind him.

In the next mornings paper, boys were calling up and down the streets of Roseville, Farmers Trust the first bank to close! The large double doors into the bank were closed and locked. The shades were pulled and crowds were gathering at the crossroads of Fourth and Market streets.

Pat was out of bed like a disturbed animal, Mary, by God, it isn’t the money! It’s our Mary Pat. She must be sick, some kind of devil has overcome the girl. We must take her to the Priest! He growled as he dressed.

And that will never do! She says it’s a ‘feeling’, like a ‘hunch’ and it is not her fault when she is right! Just you get yourself down there and see what can be done about our money, and let our Mary Pat be! His wife had had her say and Pat was trying to put both legs in one pant leg.

He mumbled under his breath, I hope she has a feeling for the ‘numbers’, cause I have a ‘feeling’ we are broke!

Mary Pat’s mother refused to join Pat, Let the bullheaded Irish bastard learn for himself! She kicked off her yellow slipper, aimed at the comfortable cat, who was sleeping at the foot of the six burner cook stove.

Mary Pat made an appearance, Dare I say-who was right?

Just don’t try your revenge in this house, not for a week or two!

I hope I’ll be able to go to nursing school!

Mary Pat heard her mother ask, What do you mean about being a nurse? Don’t mention that to your father, that’s a rotten job!

Mary Pat had reached the start of her life, a year ago Pat had bought her a car and a golden retriever puppy for her sixteenth birthday. Her mother was not in favor of either one.

Mary Pat at sixteen was old enough to get her working papers.

Chapter 2

Mary Pat worked a ten hour busy shift, busy without a stop. People were buying with their Christmas Club money. Only one bank in Roseville has closed, there are two. The Morgan Trust was open and operating. The young woman called home to announce that she had eaten on her 6 PM break, that she would be late. She had an errand to take care of.

But was all her mother could convey, the line went dead, except for old Mrs. Freeman who always answered the party line. Her rings were four, but the nosy neighbor answered the ring, just in case it was her two ring phone. Mary was sure she listened on others.

Oh well, the mother joined her husband who was listening to ‘Amos and Andy’ on the radio.

Guess what, Mary me darlin’, Phil tells me that the other night at the movie they stopped the talkie, so people could hear this radio show, it is popular.

People like it I guess, she sighed. I’d rather play bridge.

On their way to bed, Pat sat on the bench at the foot of their bed. Mother, he hesitated, I’m worried about our Mary Pat. I don’t think she is happy…

What makes you think that, Pat?

She has never had a boyfriend, and not many girl friends, in fact! Can that be normal?

I’ve wondered too, Pat. Maybe she has a secret lover, like a movie actor. You know she sits and smiles sometimes. But she is normal, don’t talk funny doctors to me, Pat. I won’t have her subjected to that kind of ‘Pow-Wow’.

There was a rap at the bedroom door. Mom, I’m going out for a bit. I’m going over to Ella’s house for just a little while.

Mother and father looked at each other and shook their shoulders. It’s past nine, isn’t it a little late? Both watched as their seventeen year old treasure, backed the car out of the garage.

Neither slept. Nine became ten and ten became eleven.

Don’t you think you should call Ella’s house, Mother, I don’t like this!

No, the mother decided. It’s her first sign of independence, I’ve waited for this!

Mary Pat was well aware of her mothers bridge group. They played, they talked and ate. With their mouths full, they managed to gossip. For that reason Mary Pat had dodged talking about the night before.

Not that she didn’t trust her mother, it could be a slip of the tongue. Mary Pat didn’t want the Matrons of Roseville to hear from her the mess she had gotten herself into, all because of a deep feeling that things were not going well for a friend she had known since childhood. The feeling had been so strong that she called Lisa after nine o’clock last night and now she was on her way to the hospital to make sure Ella had recovered.

Entering the hospital a nun Mary Pat recognized from school, gave the lovely young lady a look of disdain, that said without a word Birds of a feather flock together!!!!

Into the elevator, off on the second floor, room 229 was empty.

Her friend took her home.

She was shocked, Mary Pat returned to her car and relived the night before.

Mary Pat had ‘that feeling’, the one that comes from no where, that told her something was very wrong. So much so that the young woman made a phone call to see that her high school friend was OK.

The voice on the other side was hysterical. I’m covered with blood, I’ve swallowed a dozen sleeping pills and now I’m going to slit my wrists. Do you have any idea how I feel? I want to die. I’ve tried to abort a child with a clothes hanger!

That is when Mary Pat left the house, to spend two terrible hours trying to deter the determined suicide victim. Urging her to go to the hospital, now that she was child free. Have her stomach pumped and be ready to face life anew. To think that I promised never to tell it makes me sick. I’ve never lied to my mother or father, God help her she prayed on her way home.

Did she creep in and run to her room, or tell that she had tried to help a friend, and no more? Independent or not. Both laying in their bed that night, took a deep breath in reality to know that Mary Pat was home safe and sound. Pat looked at the clock. At least she didn’t stay out until midnight.

Next morning Mary Pat was rushing through breakfast. It was Saturday and she would have a full working day at the store. Mary Pat was in need of money. Christmas was near. The mother waited, she expected an explanation of the night before, when she and Pat worried over her sudden departure. Mother could wait no longer.

Mary Pat, do you want to talk? silence followed.

About what?

Last night, that’s what!

Oh, it’s nothing, I’ll tell you when I get home. I don’t want to be late on the first day, you know, with that Mary Pat was out the door.

The entrance to the kitchen opened and there stood Pat.

What did she say? He knew the answer, he had been listening on the other side of the door.

She will tell me tonight and then I will tell you. The mother worried.

In the warm glow of the evening the mother had completely forgotten about Mary Pat’s outing the night before.

Sitting in her rocker watching her daughter play with the puppy she asked, Have you decided who you are going to ask to escort you to your graduation dance?

There is no one, the girl replied. You know this year it is the girls ask the boys. I think the first week in September all the escorts were picked and I was told I had better find some one out of town, because the Roseville boys were all taken.

That wasn’t very nice. Some fellows got stuck with dates they won’t forget. The mother mocked. Did you know what they were up to?, the mother asked.

It’s alright Mom, I didn’t want to go anyway. I have a feeling there will be drinking. Mary Pat made a face.

Drinking or not, you are going and right this minute. You are going to teach me to dance, Pat was on his feet.

Who’s going to teach Mary Pat, may I ask? The mother got off her chair.

The radio program was turned off and a large round record began to play Moonlight Sonata.

Nice and slow, were the first directions. Man steps out first with his right toe. Mary Pat stepped back, trying to feel the music. The one thing I did learn at school was how to dance. I was a real flapper, I’ll have you know! Hand at the waist, Pat and your hand Mary Pat on Dad’s shoulder.

So Pat held her. Now just walk to get the feel of the music.

Mother me dear this won’t be a funeral night you know.

Oh, yes it will, came out of Mary Pat and then she laughed. I mean the two of us on the dance floor. This isn’t a good idea. There is a new movie in town called 42nd Street and there is a lot of modern music.

Let’s go! Pat reached for his coat.

The show was packed, but down the street at the ‘Royal’ another show was featuring Clark Gable and Joan Crawford called ‘Dancing Lady’. Fred Astaire had a small part as a dance instructor. It was just what the three of them needed, as he instructed Clark Gable how to dance. Between the three of them they learned the steps of the waltz, fox trot and the Lindy hop.

In six weeks time the thread in the parlor rug was wearing thin, but Pat and Mary Pat could ‘cut a rug’.

The three, Mother, Father and Mary Pat became regular movie fans of anything Fred Astaire played a part in.

Fred’s ‘Flying Down to Rio’, they were introduced the song ‘Orchids in the Moonlight’ a ‘tango’ and the ‘car coco’ followed by ‘Gay Divorce’ and Cole Porter’s ‘Night and Day’, the ‘Continental’, ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’ and others. 1933 was a great year for singing and dancing and about to become eighteen. The depression was still around.

They bought all the records and they learned to dance together, she and her father. Mother had her turns with Pat who danced and danced.

The Christmas rush was on at Bowman’s department store. Mary Pat had been asked to stay at the store on Saturdays from 9 to 5. Which worked out well. They could go to a movie. They had all refound their dancing steps. Then all three would go to the new hotel in town, buy a drink, coffee or coke and dance to a real live band.

People were beginning to notice. One old friend of Pat’s strolled over to their table and announced that his daughter would like to dance with Pat. Pat smiled until he saw the face on his wife.

Does Gimbals tell Macy’s? she inquired. Pat being Irish had to laugh at the gall of his wife.

No, said Pat It’s a family affair. Pat refused.

Mary Pat’s heart sank. He’s just made another enemy. She didn’t dare look in the girls direction. Her name was Heather Hief. Her competition for Valedictorian of the graduating class of 1933.

Night and Day, Mary Pat was singing in the car on the way home. Her father began to sing in tenor voice and her mother in alto.

Let’s try to sing as a trio! Mary surprised herself.

What a good idea! Pat laughed. We will cut a record. That will be a record for sure, no we will leave the singing for Mary Pat.

When they returned from a good dinner and dance the phone was ringing. Pat answered, Meegan family. The voice on the other end asked for Mary Meegan.

This is a long distance call. We tried to reach Mary Meegan all day today and then again tonight but this is a good news call. Are you Mr. Meegan? The caller asked.

I am, Pat called to his wife. What do you know about a company called ‘Case Lace’? They are calling from Belgium.

Oh my God, I had given up. Maybe I won the contest.

How much? Pat tried to whisper.

Tell you in a minute, Mary was from one foot to the other with excitement. She told the caller that she would accept the check and the honor.

You are not going to believe this, Mary sank into a chair.

Tell us!

Almost a year ago, I entered this contest. They were looking for a sketch of a large wedding. Twelve bridesmaids, two child flower girls and a bride, of course. All were to be dressed in their ‘Case Lace’. An original design, when finished it will be shown at the Chicago World Fair and I will be there to secure the prize. There will be a letter sent to explain all the details. I won!

The mother changed the subject to Mary Pat, When do you have your graduating pictures taken?

Next week, the girl answered and continued to sing a happy song, Dancing cheek to cheek.

The school graduating pictures were being taken in the gym. All girls in black open neck sweaters and pearls. All young men in jacket and tie. The photographer was the son of the one and only newspaper owner in Roseville. If you wanted more to read there was the New York Times or the Harrisburg Tribune.

Mary Pat took a good look at what 23 years could do to a man. He is almost beautiful.

Mary Pat got a feeling new to her. It made her blush and laugh.

Chapter 3

Mary Pat’s last name was Meegan, so going up on the stage alphabetically stood her about midway in the girls group. While wearing the required outfit she had taken great care to look her best even wearing mascara for the first time. She could tell her trouble to look good was paying off as she watched the same group turn their backs to ignore Mary Pat’s dark shining shoulder length hair, that fell in soft curls at her neckline. Blue blue eyes, great teeth and a glowing smile. Not to mention her bustline.

Even in the lined group the good looking young photographer had spotted Mary Pat when she had entered the high school gymnasium.

The social life of the school had been in the hands of a sorority, named J.F.F. Just Five Females. They were the towns daughters, of doctors and lawyers, spoiled from birth. Others had hoped to be pledged each year. Some how they had always found their ilk each year. They were good looking, and so aware of being, had the best clothing and were always the five cheerleaders. Mary Pat’s name had come up for entry vote, but was always turned down. These things Mary Pat knew for sure, but didn’t know why.

It was the young womans turn to go on stage to be photographed. Jim Holden was his name. He gave Mary Pat a wonderful smile and her knees became weak. She knew she was blushing and hoped it didn’t show.

Take it easy Miss Meegan, it will only take a moment. Now if you will give me a shoulder shot, just turn a bit to the left, He instructed. That’s right, he added should make a nice picture.

Don’t let that go to your head Mary Pat, he has said that to all of us.

This time Jim seemed to blush. He turned to the girls remark and simply said, Do you think of yourself as a nice person? That was rude.

Says you, was her reply and she belonged to the J.F.F.

Mary Pat had to walk out of the school, her heart was racing and her head was thumping.

What’s wrong with me? she asked aloud, it happened when Jim touched me.

The blushing maiden placed her hands to her heart and began to count the choking beats 1-2-3-4-5. She stopped suddenly, as Jim the photographer pulled himself and boxes through the large school doors to the outside. He gave Mary Pat a nod and a smile and was on his way.

Mary Pat sighed, he could of said something. She watched him drive away.

What a looker, Jim spoke as he left the parking lot. That should be a wonderful picture. I think I heard someone call her Mary Pat. He remembered it was that fat, greasy haired kid. I think she is Doc Slowders brat.

Mary Pat came home to an empty house, except for the puppy who was so happy to be released from her cage. She found her ball and trotted to Mary