She Bear Bride

By Carla C. Ohse

It’s the summer of 1958, and Beannie, a 13-year-old girl, just can’t wait to grow up. This summer is different. She’s thirteen now, and her body is starting to show glimpses of the fact that she is entering womanhood, but still not as fast as she would like. Beanie convinces her parents to let her bring her best friend, Chick, to the family cottage. Beanie would be happy to have big breasts like her best friend. The girls get a new perspective on body image when they meet a cancer survivor, Birdey, an American Indian, who lives in the area. They’ll also learn lessons about prejudice and alcoholism in this young-adult fiction book that explores how to help a girl deal with body image issues, enter womanhood, and open their eyes to breast cancer.

It’s one of those good adult fiction books that face severe issues of breast cancer, breast awareness, prejudice, and alcoholism honestly and openly to help young women find self-worth. Humor and teenage drama blend as the story plants seeds of God’s plan through Birdey. It deals with breast development in adolescent girls and could be considered an eye-opening breast cancer awareness book for them.
“As an adult who has gone through all the feelings of inadequacy of youth, and then to have had a mastectomy at a young age, married with children, I could easily relate to this story. I could put myself in Beannie’s shoes and Bridey’s moccasins. Young girls (and older) will be able to take away true meaning from this story: It’s what’s on the inside that counts, not the outside packaging.”
—Judy Smith, Breast Cancer Survivor, Branch, Michigan—


Author Carla C. Ohse deals with serious subjects in this young adult fiction book with an honest, light-hearted approach, making it an excellent read for young girls. If you’ve ever wondered how to help a girl with body image issues or the complexities of entering womanhood, this is one of those young adult fiction books that might make those topics easier to discuss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 21, 2006
• ISBN: 9781469119274

Book preview

book is dedicated to the sisterhood of girlfriends—

—young and old,

—near and far,

—past and present,

—beautiful ALL

We honor girlfriends who are courageous survivors of breast cancer . . .

. . . And we applaud girlfriends who so gallantly fought the fight leaving for us a legacy of hope: and of courage, of dignity, of grace, and a towering faith for resolution.

"Strength and honor are her clothing;

and she shall rejoice in time to come."

Proverbs 31:25

The names listed above are friends, relatives, and acquaintances of the author. Some names were given to the author by friends, relatives and acquaintances.

THANK YOU

             To GOD

Who gave me great gifts—

             Life, Love and Laughter.

             To Peg and Hootie

Who, blessed by HIM,

             Did the same.

             To my advisors/ revisors—

             Laurie Rosin,

Stephanee Killen,

             Erin Bush, and, especially

Richard Brown.

             Also, To son George,

my computer main-man.

For girls, 8 to 88 years young—

And, For the beautiful Annas’ of my life . . .

—Edna Anna

—Margaretha Anna

—Erica Anna

She Bear Bride

Carla C. Ohse

Copyright © 2006 by Carla C. Ohse.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 08/04/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

575243

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Author’s Biography

You grow up the day you have your first real laugh—at yourself.

—Ethel Barrymore

Chapter One

Every summer, my family vacationed up north where we rented a cottage by a lake. This year, 1958, was no different except that I was thirteen and for the first time in my life I needed my best friend more than I needed my mother. We were tight-knit friends, rarely seen apart. Weeks before vacation, I schemed and plotted and ended up begging my mother and father to let her come with us.

She’s part of the family, anyway. Why can’t she come? Pleeeaze! Pre-ttt-eee pleeease with sugar on it? We’ll help—honest we will.

Normie piped up, If she can bring Chick, then I can bring Timothy.

Normie was my oldest brother and being the oldest held clout in the family.

I should be able to ask a friend first. I am the oldest. Isn’t that right, Father?

And, Father agreed.

We ended up a party of eleven, six sandwiched in one car, and the other five packed in a second car. My younger sisters, Sweet, BonBon, Lil, Peaches, and baby Mikey rode with my mother Peg. Chick and I along with Normie and Timothy rode with my father, Hootie. With opened windows, we sang Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall and when we got down to one bottle of beer on the wall, we were there.

I loved Stony Lake with its great bluffs around it. From it, a channel of water connected the lake with a much larger one, the great lake of Michigan. A forest of great white pines reaching well above the other trees surrounded Stony Lake. All the trees gave way to an opening so beautiful that its invitation to stay was too tempting to refuse. Many cottages dotted the shoreline. The cottage we rented was not on the lake but nestled further into the woods on a desolate road along with the village tavern which was a stone’s throw away. The small cottage that peeked through a nest of trees was named Peek-a-Boo. The month at Peek-a-Boo Cottage was the highlight of the year for me and my family of nine—though this year proved open to more than nine.

Two full cars pulled into the drive alongside of the cottage. Quickly, the cars emptied. The young ones skipped and hollered around the yard, and my parents started to carry in the necessary items for a month’s stay.

When my friend and I got out of the car I put my arm around her and said, Here we are, Chick. Isn’t it great?

Chick stared at the size of the place. It’s so little, Beannie, how we gonna all fit in there?

My family always fits. You’ll see.

But, where are ya gonna put me?

Don’t worry. Come on, I’ll show you.

The white wood-framed cottage was decorated with wood-slat shutters of pink. The gingerbread decorations on the gables gave the cottage its storybook look. Windows lined the front porch that doubled as a bedroom with bunk beds at one end and a pullout couch at the other. Two bedrooms with a live-in area made up the center, and a kitchen in the back totaled the space in the cottage. There was a small bathroom off the kitchen as well as one in the backyard.

We walked through the small cottage and headed straight for the porch. I explained that the couch that turned into a bed was ours. Normie and his friend Tin claimed the other half as their undisputed space.

Beannie, you and Chick stay out of here.

Yeah. Tin said.

Hey, we sleep here too.

Normie positioned himself in the center of the porch and pointed to his half. I mean here.

Don’t worry. We don’t want your cooties, Chick shouted.

Father caught our attention. Okay, jokers, finish unpacking the cars, now.

The process of carrying blankets, boxes of food, and suitcases into the cottage proved to be easier than expected. We giggled and moved quickly, and before we knew it, the job was done. Mother and Father had the biggest chore of putting the items away in such a small cottage.

It wasn’t very long after we had arrived when we heard a loud, rousing cry. We stopped in our tracks. Then, like bullets, we ran to see what was the matter. Like summer lightning, Normie and Tin bolted out of the outhouse. The two had hold of their noses, screaming and gagging. Who did that? Ugh . . . Pee-yew!

It’s real bad in there, Normie continued.

One of the children called out, Let me see.

I wanna smell, said another.

Before I had a chance to stop either, one of my little sisters ran in, ran out, and then bent over and gagged. I slapped Normie, then Tin. What’s the matter with you guys? You know we don’t use this unless we have to.

Hey, I didn’t use it, Tin shouted.

Well, somebody did, Normie added.

The wide-eyed children listened.

Now look what you did. We’ll never get the kids to use it if we have to.

Chick pulled me aside. Beannie, I’ll pee my pants before I’ll go in there.

Chick, let’s pretend we’re pioneers like long ago. It’ll be fun. They never had indoor Johns. Where do you think they went to the bathroom?

I—in the bushes? she stammered.

I don’t think there were many bushes on the prairie. Not big ones, I reminded her.

And no outhouses either, just slop-buckets. she snapped.

I wrinkled up my nose as I pulled Peaches to me and said, You can use the nice bathroom inside, okay?

Me,too? Lil asked. I nodded, and the two ran off to where Sweet was swinging on a tire that hung from a tree.

BonBon grabbed me. Beannie, Beannie, help me make my bed, please, Beannie.

Okay, okay. I motioned for Chick to follow as we moved back into the cottage. We helped my four younger sisters—Sweet, BonBon, Lil and Peaches—settle in.

I felt lucky to have a mother, father, two brothers, and four sisters. This year, 1958, I had my best friend, too. As we helped my sisters settle, I couldn’t help but find myself constantly smiling for no apparent reason. I was convinced that this was going to be the best vacation of my life.

Chick was witty and carefree, tall and blond, and had big breasts for thirteen. When we were together we giggled all the time, and her breasts always jiggled. She had the curves of a full-grown woman already. I was straight and boney, and yes, jealous.

Chick specialized in making up yarns that described grown-ups in hilarious situations. I remember one day in school when she pulled me aside. We were between classes, rushing through the hall, going in opposite directions.

Hey, Beannie, I saw Mr. Tracy’s underwear, first hour.

What? You did? How? I asked.

He bent over to pick up some chalk.

She smiled. He has a nice butt, and he wears The Fruit. I think I’m in love. See you at lunch.

I loved that about her. She always had something to say that shocked me and made me laugh at the same time.

As we were making the beds that first day at Peek-a-Boo, Chick whispered, I hope I won’t miss my dad, Beannie.

That worried me. Chick’s mother died when she was eleven years old. She lived with her elderly father, and Chick was Sherrie to him. Her nickname was never said in front of him.

On the other hand, my father, Hootie Ross, was a master nicknamer. Father was inventive, creative, and an accomplished engineer who nicknamed his children and every other child in the neighborhood, including himself. He called Normie, George. No one understood why, except for the fact that my father had a friend in his youth whom he often referred to as his good, fine friend, George Overmeyer. A real George was a good guy.

I had grown so tall so fast that it didn’t take long before everyone was calling me Bean, as in string or pole. Bean stuck, along with the long vowel-e at its end. My nickname didn’t come from my father; nevertheless, it stuck with me. I didn’t mind because I hated my given name, Beatrice Moline, my grandmother’s names.

I was Dark Star, between my father and me only. Someday, the dark will turn to light and you will shine like the brightest star in all the world, he always told me.

Two of my sister’s names, Carrie, who was sweet, clean and decent, got shortened to just Sweet, and Bonnie Rae was shortened to BonBon. They were my candyland sisters. Sweet, three years my junior, an athlete like our mom, could match any boy or girl to a hilltop or tree top. BonBon, good looking as a young girl, became the family’s boyfriend magnet. Lil, blond and fair, was a bright and serious girl, wiser than her young years. Peaches, with curly brown hair and twinkling dark eyes, smiled for everyone seeking smiles in return. Mikey completed the family line-up. The little blond bomber who waddled into everyone’s heart had been long awaited and was welcomed as his father’s second son.

Normie’s friend Timothy Alley became Tin-Pan Alley, courtesy of my father. All the neighbor children loved to gather at our house, especially when our parents were at home. Father loved to kid around and joke with our friends. My mother, Peg, played with us, usually football and baseball or kickball in the back alley. My parents worked hard and were loved and respected by family as well as the community. Our home was a-burst of family and friends coming and going.

After settling in at Peek-a-Boo Cottage, past the supper hour of our first day, Mother asked Chick and me to go to the store for milk.

Better get four quarts, Beannie, she called out, as we headed down the dirt road to the village. We passed by the Stony Lake Tavern, the only other place on the lonely stretch of road.

Come on, let’s peek in, I suggested.

Yeah, maybe we can go in and have a cold one, Chick joked.

I don’t like it, do you? Beer, I mean. The foam’s the only good part.

"Beannie