Dandelion: A Beautiful Young Woman Struggles to Fulfill Her Dreams, and to Find That Magical Place Called "Happyhood'

By Claudia W. Lange

Ms, Lange seemed destined to be a drifter, She has traveled extensively throughout her life, always willing to explore new venues.
Having a curious mind, she spends much of her time studying a large variety of material.
Her main interests center around creative subjects, such as the Arts, Gardening,. and various Crafts. ie, making stained glass windows and lamps,and painting Florals and Landscapes.
She is also a student of Finance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493179831

Claudia W. Lange

Claudia W. Lange has always wanted to know what lies over the next hill. She has traveled the entire breadth, north, south, east and west, of this Beautiful Country, America. She held many different jobs during her life, as a Realtor, an Administrative Assistant, a stained glass artist, and for a short time, a long haul truck river. Plus other jobs, some mundane, some just plain fun. She has haunted libraries, always studying. Many friends suggested she write a book of her own. So she did. Her fiction book “Dandelion” mirrors some of her own experiences, with a lot of imagination thrown in, to make things more interesting.

Book preview

Chapter One

It was a Saturday afternoon in mid-April. The weather had become tolerable outdoors, but it was still a bit on the chilly side this time of day. Britt had decided to walk home from work, because her mind was still spinning. She wrapped her coat a little tighter around herself, to keep out the slight breeze. She had been pre-occupied all day at work, seeking a solution to her dilemma. Last evening, she had found the courage to approach her father with the opportunity that she had been offered. The Beauty College near her bus stop had placed a sign in the window, Help Wanted. She’d gone inside to find out more about the situation, yesterday, after work.

The school had an opening for a Shampoo Girl. The School offered free tuition toward getting a Beauty Operator’s License, in exchange for work around the shop, doing the shampoos for clients, and cleaning up the Operators’ work stations. In nine months, she would have completed enough hours to qualify for the license, provided that her grades on the study material were also satisfactory. It would be a way out for Britt.

All she needed was a place to stay, and ten cents a day for bus fare.

Britt’s father had already denied her any further schooling, when she had discussed a formal education. It was too costly, he’d said, and also, he believed that girls just got married and had kids, in any case. He’d declared that it was just a waste of time and money. Britt felt hurt and angry. It was not merely a matter of contributing to her own upkeep, making her own clothing, and babysitting the younger children, it was just another indication of how little respect her father had for her. But the thing that had made her angrier with him than she had ever been in the past, was how many things she had already given up for the good of the family. Britt would graduate from High School in May, just a few weeks away. She had her heart set on moving on, and having a life of her own. Britt reached her bridge, it was the only place she’d found that she could turn to, for refuge. She paused in the center of the bridge, and looked down into the churning water below. The situation that had thrown her into a blue funk, was that her father had announced to her that now that she was going to be out of school, she would be expected to pay him room and board! After all her free labor, after all the years that her youth had been spent, friendless and isolated, because of all the duties that had been heaped upon her by her parents.

I’ve had no freedom I’ve had no friends, I just can’t stand it any longer. she told the river. I just have to find a way out. What in the Hell am I going to do?

Britt knew she had to get control of herself before she arrived back at home. She made her way down to the banks of the river, under the bridge and sat on her favorite big flat rock, where no one could see her. As she sat quietly, listening to the waters rush by, she trotted out her favorite memories, back to some of the times when she had been truly happy and innocent. She’d been full of the hopes and dreams of the very young, so long ago…

The summer sky had been a beautiful cornflower blue, scattered with a few fluffy clouds here and there. The golden sun shone down on two young girls, sitting in the grass. They were plucking some of the myriads of yellow dandelions that bloomed there in the park located across the street from their homes.

Britt held one of the flowers beneath Mary Ann’s chin, to see if she liked butter. That was a long ago game kids played. If the color yellow was reflected under your friend’s chin… then she really liked butter!

The dandelions had grown long stems that year, due to the heavy spring rains. The girls had plucked off the flower heads to make circles of the stems, by stuffing the narrow end into the bottom end of each stem. When the circles were linked together, they became transformed into what the girls imagined to be beautiful necklaces and bracelets.

Some of the dandelions had gone to seed, thereby creating round puffballs. Britt pretended the seeds were really tiny parachutes, which carried little fairies away into their secret places. There were lots of Fairies that day to be blown into the wind. In Britt’s secret world, everything was beautiful and magical. The fairies always had good things to eat, and pretty clothes to wear.

She pretended that fairies used toadstools for tables, and that they slept in walnut shells, using rose petals for blankets. Exactly like in the fairy tales Britt’s Grandma had told her.

It’s hot! whined Mary Ann. Let’s go to my house, and play with my dolls.

O K! Britt was always glad to go to Mary Ann’s because she had some real toys.

Britt believed then, that Mary Ann’s family must be rich, because Mary Ann owned three dolls, a doll buggy and a tricycle. When they played at Britt’s house, they had to make do with their imaginations, where they played out in her back yard. Britt’s mom had given her an old sway backed broom to play with, so the children used the broom to sweep the dry dirt of the yard into little lines and piles, thereby forming the walls of their houses. They stuck sticks into the ground around their pretend house, to make fences. Then they used weeds, also stuck upright, to make their flower gardens. The girls worked very hard at making delicious little apple and cherry pies from gooey mud for their pretend suppers.

The two girls skipped along the sidewalk, hand in hand. Mary Ann’s blond curls, so soft and pretty, hung down past her shoulders. Britt’s short dark brown hair was always kept cropped into what Mother called a Dutch cut because her mother, Grace, did not want to be bothered with it. Grace seemed to be always so sick. Britt often wished that she could have long hair, just like Mary Ann’s.

Who’s your best friend? asked Britt.

You are! answered Mary Ann. Who’s your best friend? asked Mary Ann.

You are! answered Britt. It had been a perfect summer’s day.

She stirred from her reverie, it was time for her to get home and start supper. I have to find a way out, I just have to. If I have to pay rent, it will not be to my father for very long. He will take everything from me. I have no friends, and I have no freedom, I simply must find a way. The river had been Britt’s only friend for a very long time, and the river always listened.

She decided that she would come back to her bridge on Sunday afternoon; she had to come up with a plan.

Chapter Two

Sunday afternoon, Britt told her family that she was going for a walk. She made her way back to her favorite spot under the bridge. The rhythm of the river, as it rushed onward to the sea, soon soothed her spirit and her thoughts wandered back in time to the memories of her early childhood days. She had never been able to make peace in her mind regarding the reasons her father had always seemed to hate her so much.

Britt’s parents had married as teenagers. Their first child, a boy, was the reason for their early marriage, but the tiny baby had died one week after his birth. With little education between them, every day was a struggle for survival for the young couple. At the time of their marriage, the economy was in a great deal of trouble. The great depression of 1929 was hurting everyone. There was an old saying that was common back in those days, before there were modern birth control methods… the rich get richer and the poor get kids.

Could the reason just be that she had been born as a girl? Did her father think that all his children should be boys? Their second child had been a boy. Her brother, Ned was almost three years older than Britt. Another memory that repeated itself often in Britt’s thoughts, were her memories of the house they had lived in across from her lovely park.

Britt had never been willing to be at home if there was any other place for her to be, especially when her father was at home. She hadn’t liked that ugly place where they had lived, so long ago. It had been a small neighborhood grocery store that the owner had converted into a rental. The building boasted a tall false front, built in the style of the early 1900’s. The front portion of the building had a wide porch, with large, grimy windows on either side of the entrance’s double doors. These doors opened into a large room with a pinewood-plank floor that had long ago weathered to a dirty gray. A couple of old wooden counters with broken glass fronts, had been left behind, a few scraps of this and that, a box or two, that was all. The door at the rear of the large display room was nailed shut. Around to the west side of the building, a worn path led to the rear portion of the decrepit old place. There, a smaller porch had a door that opened into the store’s former storage area. This portion of the building had been converted into make-shift living quarters. A small living area contained a small, round, cast iron wood burning stove, at the center of one wall. A smallish window, allowed some light to enter that room. An opening on the near side of the stove’s wall led into the small kitchen, also dimly lit, by one western facing window. A single bare light bulb hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. There was also a worn-out porcelain sink, with a short bit of counter space, placed on the opposite wall. It was skirted with calico fabric, to conceal stored utensils.

The kitchen was furnished with an old wooden table and chairs, placed beneath the window, on the adjacent wall, was a very large cast iron kitchen range. This was used for cooking, heating wash water, and warming the area. The other part of the dwelling was a large former store room, where the young family of six, bedded down. It was furnished with three iron bedsteads with lumpy mattresses, and a chest of drawers.

Britt had sometimes wet the bed, after they first moved there. She tried very hard not to, but she was terrified of going into the bathroom at night. It was because she was frightened of the boogey man that her parents had told her about. They said he came to get bad little girls. She imagined that he lurked outside the long narrow curtain-less bathroom window across from the toilet. At night, the moonlight cast the shadows of scraggly bushes against the dirty window, and when the wind blew, the branches made scratching noises against the window screen. It was a terrifying experience for a little three year old girl, who was expected to go into that room, alone, in the dark.

The bathroom had no light, nor heat. The faucet in the old claw footed tub leaked constantly. In winter it was so cold in the room that the dripping water would freeze into a large chunk of ice, at the bottom of the tub. A five foot tall iron pipe rose up behind the toilet stool; it had a moldy looking water tank at the top. There was a pull chain hanging down from the tank. When the chain was pulled, it released a thunderous stream of water that was very frightening to a small child. When the old store had been built, so many years ago, an indoor toilet was considered to be a modern convenience.

Britt had nightmares. She believed, in her dreams, that she was actually sitting on that high toilet and that the boogey man was there, in the bushes, watching her. After she wet the bed, she would wake up, trembling, knowing that she was going to be punished yet again.

Her father screamed at her when she had an accident. He told her she was worthless and bad. He’d spank her, then tie her wet pajamas around her neck, and make her sit behind the stove in the kitchen, until the pajamas were dry.

Smell that! he would shout at her, with his red-faced anger. Britt’s father viewed girls as worthless creatures. You are nothing but another mouth to feed, was his oft-used expression.

Britt’s mother Rose was soon to have another child, so even though Britt was one year younger that the school’s requirements, Rose went to the school, and somehow got them to change the rules to admit Britt into school at the age of four, in order to lessen her childcare burdens. Rose was not well, much of the time. Britt’s younger sister, Jane was still just a toddler. Having Britt and Ned out of the house, and being cared for at school, would allow Rose to get a little more rest, even if Britt was gone for only part of the day.

When Rose became ill, which was rather frequently, during those early years of her marriage, she would press various relatives into service to take care of her children.

Britt’s very favorite place to stay was at her Aunt Eva’s Apple Farm. There were many small orchards and farms in America in the 1930’s. Farming was a way of life for many families. It was always a delight for the children to be taken for an occasional automobile ride through the countryside. In the springtime, the orchards would sprinkle the gentle slopes with pink or white blossoms. The farm families raised cherries, peaches, plums, pears and apricots. As the soil warmed, the row crops of peas, beans, corn, potatoes, watermelons and cantaloupe appeared like colorful patchwork quilting. Sugar beets were one of the main commercial crops. There was a commercial sugar refinery in the area. The first time Britt remembered seeing a truckload of sugar beets, she exclaimed that those were awfully big turnips, her brother Ned laughed at her and called her stupid. In the autumn, there was always a pumpkin patch or two, where children could pick out their very own jack o’ lantern.

When Britt was left at Aunt Eva’s place, she had two older girl cousins who loved to entertain her, and spoil her with treats. If school was in session, the girls would take Britt to school with them once in a while, as if she were a pet! They’d pack her lunch in a brown paper bag, just like theirs, with her name written on it. Britt hated having to go back home after one of these visits at her favorite Aunt Eva’s.

Those visits to the country fostered a lifelong love of nature and the outdoors in Britt. The clean, fresh air, the wildflowers, hens scratching in the yard, gathering fresh brown eggs for breakfast, all these activities were a pure thrill for little Britt.

Her least favorite place was Aunt Bessie’s. Bessie was Rose’s older sister. Aunt Bessie always talked louder than anyone else Britt had ever known. Her mother, Rose told her it was because Aunt Bessie could not hear very well and she did not realize how she sounded to others. Bessie was good hearted but very blunt. Her husband, Uncle Jim, was twenty years older than Bessie. He had gray hair, and rarely spoke to any of the children. The couple had two children of their own, a boy and a girl… Jessie and little Jimmy; they were two or three years older than Britt. Bessie lived only a few city blocks away from Rose, so they saw Bessie and her family frequently. Bessie’s house was always chilly, due to a faulty coal furnace in the basement, and it frequently smelled of sauerkraut and sausages. It was Uncle Jim’s favorite meal. Britt hated the smell, when that was to be their evening meal, she ate only bread.

Bessie’s children were a bit sickly; they quarreled frequently, and cried easily. Britt thought the children were spoiled, because they were never scolded or spanked by Aunt Bessie.

Britt was not a secure, well-adjusted child. She was extremely shy. When school began in September, Britt was frightened of many things. She had little self-confidence, due to the harsh treatment she received from her father and the neglect from her mother, due to her ill health. The teacher, Mrs. Nelson, was unkind toward Britt, for reasons Britt did not understand. Britt wore clean, but shoddy clothing to school. One day, during the first weeks of school, Mrs. Nelson slapped Britt, in front of the entire class, because she did not want to hold hands with a boy who had smelly hair, dirty clothes and warts on his hands, she was afraid to touch those hands, because she thought she would catch his warts. All the other children stared at Britt, and two of the boys snickered.

After that incident, when it came time for recess, in mid-morning, Britt snuck out of school, and headed toward home. She knew she would get into trouble, if her parents found out. When she got to the Park, across the street from where they lived, she hid among the trees, where she waited until she saw the neighborhood children returning to their homes, and then she would go home. It wasn’t long, before her older brother, Ned, ratted her out. Britt got another spanking. No one cared enough, to ask her why she did such a thing.

Hank, Britt’s father, was a tradesman. Work was difficult to come by. He was working for one of President Roosevelt’s W.P.A. projects. The job paid barely enough to keep body and soul together. In Hank’s spare time, he searched out additional work as a painter and wallpaper hanger. He was a product of the times. It was a good deal of pressure on an uneducated man, like Hank, to feed his young family. Hank’s own parents had six children. He was their oldest son. Hank had been pressed into service to help his mother feed her family, at the third grade level of his education. Hank’s father, Hank Sr. had problems with alcohol. He was a small man with watery blue eyes. His mother, Della was a large stern unsmiling woman, six inches taller than Grandpa. The family had migrated to Utah from the tough streets of Detroit Michigan. Looking back from an adult perspective, these situations were the norm for many people in the thirties. Fathers were expected to be the dominant heads of families.

Hank was a harsh man, but an honorable one. He always managed to keep his family fed. Sturdily built, Hank’s physical labors had developed his strong physique. Hank supplemented his meager income with his hunting, fishing and trapping skills. He was at his happiest to be outdoors, in all seasons.

Rose had one more visit at the hospital, to have little Anna, afterward, there were no more children. For a time, the days passed uneventfully. Then, changes appeared on the horizon.

America’s world turned red, white and blue, during the late thirties. At school, the children pledged Allegiance to the Flag at the beginning of every school day.

The children were taught to sing patriotic songs, collect tinfoil, flatten tin cans, and bring them to school in their little wagons to help the war effort overseas. Brothers and fathers were leaving, to serve the war effort. Posters were seen on many streets downtown, Uncle Sam proclaimed We Want You.

One early fall evening, Hank called a family meeting. He announced that he was going to move the family to Washington State. He planned to get a job in the shipyards, in the defense industry at Vancouver. He felt that he could earn more money there. Everyone in the family was sworn to secrecy, and they were admonished not to tell ANYONE!

Britt’s mother, Rose was crying. She did not want to leave her family and friends behind. Ned, Britt’s brother and her two younger sisters, Jane and Anna, were silent. They all knew that Father’s word was law.

Britt was a trusting soul, with a big mouth. The next day, she confided her secret to her two best friends, swearing both of them to absolute secrecy. Cross your heart and hope to die, if you tell anyone! The two girls, Mary Ann and Georgia crossed their hearts and promised.

Britt was worried; she could not imagine what it would be like, to live in such a faraway place.

Two days later, at suppertime, Georgia, and two of her cousins appeared at the front door, they asked to see Hank. They asked Hank if their older, married sister and her husband could rent the