Abandoned

By Gail O. Dellslee

Mary is a timid young girl who lives in the coastal town of Hampton, California.  Her overprotective mother keeps her in the attic, safe from ghosts and monsters.  Mary's father disappeared, and apparently so did someone named Laura who no one likes to talk about.  Mary used to be content with being kept in the dark . . . until an abandoned rabbit gives her the courage to defy her family.  Of course, courage inevitably leads to trouble.   Her cruel brother sells her to a pirate disguised as Santa Claus.  Believing herself to be abandoned like her rabbit, Mary has no choice but to start a new life under a new name.  Although her new name is based on a fairy tale, her new life is nothing like one.  She learns that and more, but her most important lessons come from an alley.  There, she is counseled by a talking cat, the last bit of magic she clings to believing in. Will she remember those lessons by the time she can act on them?  Or will she succumb to the same fate as Laura?

• Language: English
• Publisher: GAIL O. DELLSLEE
• Release date: Jun 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9798201757328

Gail O. Dellslee

Gail O. Dellslee is a multi-racial author who grew up on the west coast of the United States. She started writing novels when she was 10 years old. Gail gets her inspiration from her cats and life experiences, and she enjoys incorporating real situations and people into her fiction.

Book preview

Chapter #1:  Arkansas

MY REAL NAME WAS CINDERELLA, but everyone called me by the horrid name of Mary.  I lived with my evil Mama and my two evil brothers, 16-year-old Pete and 10-year-old George.  Papa used to live with us, but not anymore.  No one would ever tell me where he went, but I liked to think that he was out slaying dragons and rescuing princesses.  One day he would come back and rescue me too.

In the meantime, I had to clean my room.  Pete called it an attic; I guess that was another word for the third floor.  I shared it with George, but as always he wasn't helping me clean up.  It wasn't fair.  He just kept jumping on his bed, laughing hysterically while I did all the work.

It took me awhile, but I finally finished putting George's rock collection and toy cars away into their respective shoe boxes.  He had more rocks and cars than I could count, and they were scattered everywhere across the wooden floor—under our beds, our nightstand, our dresser, and in every corner of the room.  George was spoiled to have so many toys.  He didn't know how to treat them.  He always crashed the cars into each other, and last year he almost choked on one of his rocks.  Papa had to get behind him and squeeze his belly to pop it out.  I could never understand how George could be older than me and at the same time be so dumb.  Even I knew not to eat rocks, and I was only five and a half.

Putting away my things was a lot easier.  I only had books, coloring stuff, and three stuffed animals:  Easter the rabbit, Princess the cat, and Prince the teddy bear.  They were on the floor but not scattered everywhere like George's toys were.  I put the animals on top of my bed and stacked the books underneath next to my small box of crayons.

Now that I was done cleaning the room, I felt like looking through one of the books and imagining Papa read to me like he used to.  But I knew George was making too much noise bouncing on that squeaky bed for me to be able to concentrate.  So I did my second favorite thing—I climbed up on my window seat and looked out at the view.  Mama was standing on her balcony on the second floor.  She had her back to me because she was watching Pete in the backyard, chopping the last of the firewood.  After he brought in all the wood he chopped, Mama left the balcony.  She'd probably cook supper now.  The sun was sinking into the ocean, making the sky pretty shades of orange and pink.  The sun hurt my eyes if I tried to look at it, so I looked at the water instead.  The waves went in and out, in and out.  I made my breathing match their rhythm.  It felt enchanting and calming . . . made me forget my annoyance at George . . . made me want to close my eyes and sleep. . . .

Just then, I saw something white scamper across the sand.  It had two long ears and a little body low to the ground.  A rabbit!

George of the Jungle!  Ma done told you a dozen times to stop jumping on your bed!

Pete's voice.  He ran from the stairs to George's bed and tackled him down.  The wooden headboard knocked against the wall louder than George's laughing and bed springs combined.  I thought it would have hurt if Pete jumped on me like that, but George just laughed harder than before.

I scrambled down from the window seat and headed for the stairs.

Hey Bride Girl, Pete said, making fun of my name as usual.  Where do you reckon you're goin'?

Supper's ready, ain't it? I said.

I didn't wait for him to reply.  I wanted to get down to the backyard as soon as possible to see that rabbit up close.  Whenever Pete came up to the attic, it was almost always to tell us that it was time to eat.  I wasn't allowed to go downstairs except for eating.  I guess it was because I was little, because George was allowed to leave whenever he wanted.  I wasn't allowed to go in the backyard either.  I'd never been on the beach before.  But today there was a rabbit out there!

I hurried through the family room and into the dinette where the back door was.  Mama was there laying plates on the table.  I pulled the sliding glass door with all my might until it came open.  It was heavier than I thought it'd be.

Mary, what are you doing?! Mama cried.

I squirmed out of the small opening and dashed down the wooden steps.  My bare feet sank a little in the sand at the bottom.  It was soft, unlike any other floor or ground I ever walked on before.  And the ocean!  It was frightfully loud!

I saw the rabbit.  It was sitting by the big stump that Pete left his ax in, nibbling the leaves of some weeds.  I swallowed and thought for a second.  I decided to approach the rabbit slowly, so it wouldn't be afraid of me.

Mary! Mama shouted, sticking her head out the door.  Get back in here!

Ssh, I said.  There's a rabbit over yonder.

She sighed with irritation and relief.

I approached the rabbit as quietly as I could.  When my feet were right next to it, it didn't move, just kept eating.  I stooped down very slowly, and then carefully stroked its head, ears, and back.  So soft!  Softer than any of my stuffed animals!  I picked it up and turned the kicking thing over on its back.  Cradling it like mothers in my books cradled their babies, I took it into the house, smiling proudly.  Pete and George were downstairs now.

I caught me a rabbit! I said.

Mama looked stern, and Pete for some reason looked angry, but George looked delighted.

A rabbit! George exclaimed.  Can I hold it?

Hang on now, kids, Mama said.  What if it has rabies?

Of course it has rabies, I said.  "It's a rabbit, ain't it?"

"Rabies is a disease, doofus, Pete said, whacking the side of my head.  It makes animals foam at the mouth and bite you."

Pete squatted and gnashed his teeth in my face.  I looked away to the rabbit's nose, gently wiggling up and down as it breathed. 

This here rabbit ain't foamin' or tryin' to bite me.

It does seem pretty tame, letting you walk up to it and hold it like that, Mama admitted.  Maybe it was someone's lost pet.

More like someone abandoned it 'cause they didn't want no dumb bunny, Pete said.

Finder's keepers! George said.  Can I hold it now?

I'll let you keep it in here for now, Mama said.  You can play with it for a little while after supper.

Yay! George said.

I smiled and set the rabbit down on the linoleum floor.  Then we all sat at the table and ate.  Tonight's supper was spinach, beans, and the usual glass of tap water.  Mama put a spoon of each of the foods onto our plates.  The rabbit was having trouble walking on the linoleum.  Its padded feet made it slip around, and its long nails didn't help.

I gazed absently at the kitchen's flower wallpaper, wondering where the rabbit came from and what I should name it.  From what Pete said, I guessed that abandoned meant dumped like trash.  What a mean thing for a person to do to their pet.  Good thing I found it and took it in.  Poor abandoned rabbit.  That gave me an idea.

'Rabbit' starts with 'R,' don't it? I asked Mama.  What letter does 'abandoned' start with?

'A', Pete answered.  Like 'air head.'  Like you.

Yeah, air head like you, George echoed. 

Stop it, guys, Mama snapped.  Why do you wanna know, Mary?

I was thinking of a name for it.  Abandoned rabbit . . . AR.  Ain't that where we used to live before we moved to Hampton?

"We used to live there, Pete corrected.  Not you."

Yeah, not you, George said.

Not you either, Georgie Porgie, Pete said.

Yes, Mary, Mama said.  AR is short for Arkansas, where we used to live before you were born.

So I'll name it Arkansas!

Pete broke out laughing.  That's the stupidest name I ever heard!

George echoed his laughter.  Me too!

I felt my face get hot.

Quiet! Mama said.  It's no use giving that rabbit a name, 'cause we're not keeping it anyway.

Thank God, Pete said.

What?! George cried.  Why not, Cat?!

Yeah, why not, Cat? I asked, feeling about to cry.

Don't call me Cat, Mama said, glaring at me. 

Her glare made me want to cry more.  George and Papa called her Cat, and she didn't get mad at them; why was she so mean to me?  I stuffed more food in my mouth so it could be too busy chewing to frown.

First of all, I don't like its eyes, Mama said.  They look evil.

I looked at the poor clumsy rabbit as it scurried under the table.  I just noticed its eyes were red.  But what was wrong with that?

And second of all, pets cost a lot of money—money we don't have.  We'd have to pay for its cage, bedding, and food.  I don't even know what rabbits eat.

Carrots! George said.  We have those.

"Carrots are for us to eat," Mama said.

Yeah, and I ain't givin' up my food for some dumb bunny, Pete said.

Mama always complained about money.  Why couldn't everything be free?  If I had money, I wouldn't mind using it to pay for the rabbit.  I didn't have any money, but I did have food.  I forked some spinach and beans off my plate and onto the floor.  Luckily no one noticed but the rabbit.  It hopped over and ate every last bit that I dropped.  It even licked the floor afterward; it was so hungry.  Poor thing.  I didn't care what they said.  I was naming that rabbit Arkansas, and I was going to keep it.  I felt guilty about keeping a secret from Mama, but she was giving me no other choice.

Chapter #2:  The Second Floor

AFTER WE FINISHED EATING, Mama let George and me play with Arkansas like she said she would.  We were all in the family room, except for Mama who stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes.  George and I were sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the warm fireplace with the rabbit.  Pete was on the couch, scowling at us.  I didn't know why he hated Arkansas so much.  Maybe he was just riled that George and I were happy.

George had brought down some of those toy cars of his that I just put away.  He rolled them to Arkansas, but Arkansas wasn't interested.  It just hopped away from the cars and over to me.  The family room floor was carpeted, so the rabbit didn't slip all over like it did in the dinette.  I petted its head.  It stayed still as a stump there.  When I petted its back, it nudged my foot with its nose, like it was telling me to pet its head more instead.  So I did, and Arkansas stayed unmoving and peaceful again.  Its eyes began to close.  It reminded me of when Papa would read to me before bed, stroking my hair.  I'd tell him to keep doing it until I fell asleep, which was a long time because I didn't fall asleep fast like George did.  If Papa stopped before I was asleep, I'd say, I ain't asleep yet!  He'd laugh quietly so as not to wake George, then would continue.  I wished Papa was here to see the rabbit I caught.  I bet he'd like the name I gave it and let me keep it too.

Stop hogging the rabbit! George said, standing over me.

He picked it up.  Its eyes bulged with fright, and it kicked in the air.

You're a squishy, feisty thing, huh? George said, holding it away from him as it kept kicking.

Turn it over and hold it in your arms, I said.

George tried to turn it around but he dropped it instead.  Arkansas hopped back to my crossed legs.  I petted its head again, then picked it up and cradled it like before.  It didn't kick at all for me this time.

Like this, George.

Mary had a little bunny, Pete chanted with a snicker.  Its fur was white as snow.  And ever'where that Mary went, the bunny was sure to go.

Pete was trying to bug me by making fun of my name with that lamb rhyme again, but I didn't mind this time.  It filled me with joy to know that Arkansas was so fond of me.  I kept holding it in my arms.  I brought out one of my hands to pet its head at the same time.

Hmph, George said.  That rabbit isn't any fun.  I'm bored of it.  Good night.

He took his cars and stamped upstairs. 

Mary, Mama said.  It's time you go to bed too.  Put that rabbit back outside and brush your teeth.

Finally, Pete said.

He picked up the remote from the couch and aimed it at the TV to turn it on.  Mama sat beside him to watch too.  That was my cue to leave; I wasn't allowed to watch TV.  I stood, still holding Arkansas with one arm, and went to the back door.  I heaved it open with my free hand.  It was even tougher to get it open with only one arm.  When I got it open enough to squeeze through, I stepped out.  The sky was dark now, and the air made me shiver.  Arkansas' eyes bulged as the wind blew my long hair into its face. 

Don't worry, Arkansas, I whispered, pulling my hair back.  I won't abandon you.

With my free hand, I held up the front of my T-shirt which reached my knees like all my T-shirts did.  I had used my shirt as a bowl earlier to gather all of George's toys.  Now I slid my rabbit into it.  Arkansas turned over on its legs and tried to walk or hop, but I held the rims of my shirt bowl high so it wouldn't hop out.  Then I went back in the house and pushed the glass door closed with my elbow.  Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Mama and Pete were focused on the TV; they wouldn't notice I still had Arkansas.

As I climbed the stairs, I wondered where I should keep my pet.  If I kept it in the attic, George would find it right away.  He probably wouldn't be able to keep it a secret.  Even if he did, I didn't really want to share Arkansas with him.  George wasn't gentle when he held it.  He didn't pet the fur in the right direction either.  So if I couldn't keep Arkansas on the third floor, the only other option was the second floor.

I was on the second floor now.  Mama said I wasn't allowed to linger here, that I should stay in my room at all times and not leave except for eating and brushing my teeth; after that, I should go straight back upstairs and not stop until I was back in my room.  One time I secretly stayed downstairs when Mama and Pete were watching TV.  The screen showed a bloody monster chasing a screaming little kid.  I was so scared when I saw it that I screamed myself.  Mama told me that's why she didn't want me watching TV—because there were scary things on it.  She had to assure me over and over that monsters weren't real before I felt safe enough to go back to bed. 

I had assumed that the backyard and second floor were forbidden to me as Mama said because there were scary things there like monsters that would eat someone little like me.  But I went in the backyard today, and there were no monsters.  I bet there were no monsters on the second floor either, so why didn't Mama want me there?  She and Pete slept on the second floor, so it couldn't be that bad.  Ordinarily I would have trust Mama and obeyed her, because I didn't want to be scared or scolded.  But tonight I had to be brave for Arkansas.

Straight ahead from the stairs was a closed door with a skull on it like the one on Captain Hook's ship flag.  Pete wore clothes with those skulls on them all the time, so that must've been his bedroom.

I walked farther down the hallway until I got to two other doors.  These two were open.  The one on my right was a bathroom; I could see the tub.  The one on my left was too dark to see inside, so I went in and felt the walls for a light switch.  I was able to hold my shirt bowl up with only one hand, so I didn't have to worry about the rabbit falling out.  Arkansas was keeping nicely still.

This room was very big, and it had a big bed too.  When I saw a sliding glass door with the balcony outside, I knew it was Mama's room.  Clearly I couldn't hide Arkansas in her room or Pete's room, because they