The mahogany king's daughter

Well, I'm at It again.  The last story I started, the legend of Lord Randall castle, lasted all the way until I saw the entire story in my mind's eye.  When I got to the end of the story in my thoughts, I stopped writing.

This story before that, The Soldier's Wife, lasted a little bit longer but also ended well before it was finished.

Now I have begun a story which I am calling The Mahogany King's Daughter.  This is a family story I know well, but I am also generating quite a few fictional details to make it interesting.  Let's see how far I get.  So far, this is my beginning:

AUTHOR NOTE

This prequel to The Disposable Noble Wife is an amalgamation of events from different marriages across family generations. Please note that although fictional interactions/details have been generated, personalities created, and [some] names changed for purposes of its writing, as many historical details as possible have been preserved to wind together the unfolding of this true tale.
In the present era of steadily increasing despair and collapsed morality, these stories sorely need to be shared.

Let’s begin with that of my great-grandmother…

The Mahogany King’s Daughter

I sing a tale that began long ago

An anthem of true love and tears

This story's words are as true as I know

And span a hundred years

December 20, 1917, just under one hundred years ago:

Augustina drew a deep breath as she watched her sister step off the gang plank and onto deck. Swallowing hard, she slowly lifted a foot to follow that final step. Just one more step and the comfort of familiarity would be behind her, uncertainty before.

“Come, little one. The journey will be only four days,” chided the voice of her brother from behind her.

Manuel had sandwiched her between himself and  Crispula, their older sister – teasing that way they could make sure “Tina”  got on board.  She snorted at the memory. Yes, it was true she felt nervous, but that was not about taking her first sea voyage. Being the baby of the family did not make her incompetent, after all. She was a twenty-two year old woman! No, her nervousness arose from something different: A strange feeling, hard to explain. It was sort of a sixth sense that she would never come home to her beloved Guatemala if she sailed to New Orleans.

Her appointed guardian continued, “Why do you snort? I speak truly. It is just a short trip. We will be back on dry land in no time.”

Then he added as almost an afterthought, “and… don’t you want Mama to be happy for Christmas?”

Tina exhaled and rolled her eyes as she stepped onto the boat. Of course she wanted Mama to be happy for Christmas. That was the point of this whole excursion. Wasn’t it? She just had a bad feeling about leaving home. That was all. Mama had been in New Orleans receiving the best medical care money could buy for the better part of a year. New Orleans was where her children would be for Christmas – all but the eldest, that is. Viriato needed to stay at home to help mind their father’s business.  He was, after all, “heir” to the “mahogany throne.” Tina wished he had come instead of Manuel, though. 

Half an hour later, belongings in their cabin, the three siblings stood together on deck as they watched the pier grow smaller and smaller as it faded into a forest lined to shore.  Soon the shore disappeared and two of the three went to find something to do, but Augustina remained.  Her home was just a memory now.  She missed it already. But Mama…

COPYRIGHT 2013 Beth Durkee

All rights reserved.

Wow, that is short compared to the amount of time I've already put into writing this story.  On the other hand, it is also only about half of what I have written on the story so far.  When it is done, assuming I finish this one, I will make it available for download on Amazon KDP.  For now, though, I continue writing it.