JRTompkins

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Marguerita tripped over a rift in the sidewalk at full speed, scrabbling headlong, skidding cement, almost planting her face. She cursed at the shock, and again at the subsequent pain, then rolled onto her side and sat up. She’d scraped open the palms of her hands, and they were starting to bleed, almost like Roberto’s knees. What an odd time to remember that, she thought. But she looked up and realized she was almost back to the bridge approach. She had no idea how she’d made it back onto the sidewalk. She hadn’t even realized she was running....
          
          Marguerita climbed onto the railing, swung her legs over, and lowered herself down. She needed to hang from the bottom of the rail, she remembered, and search for the big nails that protruded from the sides of the piling set back underneath. It was a very awkward move, very difficult for an adult, for it meant you had to lean back and pull your legs up and forward while hanging more than twenty-five feet above the bay. She searched with her feet for the pegs, trying again and again to find footing, then rested, swinging out from the bottom of the pier.
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Just what exactly is Marguerita doing?
          
          Find out: https://www.wattpad.com/story/29738210-the-gardens-of-marguerite
          
          Thanks for following along!

’Níto was on the approach to the bridge when she finally caught up to him.
          “Antoníto!” she scowled. 
          
          He did not slow down, nor even look up. “If Mrs. Allende didn’t ever give me that box of fruit, you know what would ‘a happened?” 
          
          “I don’t.” Out of breath, she tried not to let him hear it. “Where have you—”
          
          He smacked his fist into his hand. “They beat up the small kids like me and take our cans! Or they beat us up and steal the money we get.” 
          
          She noted his use of the present tense. As if he was still living on the streets. “Did someone beat you up?” She also noticed he wasn’t wearing anything on his feet. “Where are your shoes?” Had he sold them, she wondered, or were they taken from him?
          
          “I’ve seen ‘em put a kid in the hospital, he was beat so bad,” ’Níto said.
          
          He clearly wasn’t going to answer her questions, and Marguerita didn’t know where he was going with all this. “Well, then that kid would have gotten help,” she attempted. “He would have been placed in a foster—” 
          “Nuh’uh,” ’Níto scoffed. “He was back on the street the next day. With broken ribs!”
          
          “Well,” she said, wondering if Lucas was the victim and hoping to propel the conversation to some end, “there’s other ways you could make money besides—” She regretted that the moment it left her mouth. “—Listen—”
          
          “There are lots of ways to make money on the streets,” he confirmed, halted abruptly, and laid his face into his hands.
          
          Marguerita sighed. There was a wound there she could not reach. “What can I do, ’Níto? That I’m not already doing?” Her words fell so unsteadily, she worried he might think she was crying. Would it be such a bad thing, she wondered, to let him know how truly frustrated and confused, desperate, and exasperated she felt. She just did not know how to help him. 
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of this story at: https://www.wattpad.com/story/29738210-the-gardens-of-marguerite
          
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Organized as part of a family reunion weekend for 'Níto to meet his multitude of cousins young and old, this morning's more intimate meeting had been planned to discuss, with decision inherent, Antoníto's future. Considering the extent to which both his future and her fears were up in the proverbial air, Marguerita welcomed the brunch, albeit with the nascent enthusiasm usually reserved for dental work.
          
          Nonetheless, she accepted with grace the genuine compliments upon her jeweled pendant, and clasped the hand of the man on her left who had claimed her heart with it. His timing had been perfect. He had understood exactly the stresses that had impressed upon her of late. He had recognized what his proposal would do to quiet her heart. He had promised to protect her, to stand beside her, and thus, had asked for her hand. It wasn't hard to give, for she wanted to stand beside him too, for all that was better or worse.
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of this story at: https://www.wattpad.com/story/29738210-the-gardens-of-marguerite
          
          Thanks for following along!

Marguerita watched her boy step up to the casket to look upon the dead man inside. She would never see if he flinched. She would never see the look upon his face. She could not share the moment with him any more than she could take it from him. She could only pray he found peace in it.
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of the story at: https://www.wattpad.com/story/29738210-the-gardens-of-marguerite

Savio lifted the heavy gunwale of the boat while Marguerita found and stayed the driftwood support. Powerful searchlights swept like a broom through shards of rain above them, and ignited sprigs of beachgrass in silhouette at the top of the dune. They scrambled up the slope, were hit by the full force of the gale and blown down behind the cover of the dune and its grasses. They shielded their faces with outstretched palms, trying to discover the source of the horn blasts.
          
          Just beyond the reef, in the full measure of rolling, angry seas, a fishing trawler with its blinding rack of searchlights plummeted over and through each wave, its lights slicing through the dark rain like sweeps of a saber in swordfight.
          
          There was no way it was safe to be out there, Marguerita thought. Each wave tossed the trawler dangerously closer to the reef.
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of the story at: https://www.wattpad.com/story/29738210-the-gardens-of-marguerite

Marguerita thanked Jorge for his concerned warnings, but ignored them, untied the bowline, and motored out against the surging tide. Slapping across the waves between the channel markers proved nothing compared to the rolling anger of the ocean. She realized then she had no life vest on, and looked around the boat in vain, hoping it wasn’t a fatal oversight. Before she could consider her options, though, she caught sight of Savio and his boat, thrown over into the engorging surf in front of one of the small barrier islands just off to the east. This same area had been so placid and peaceful with ’Níto just a few days before, she wondered. Turning the skiff in Savio’s direction, she wanted to be careful not to swamp the boat, since each new swell now rocked her from side to side with irreverent force. Great flocks of raindrops swelled and folded, and fell upon her like insects to a feast. She hadn’t thought to bring a raincoat; she was not well-prepared, and she hated that. Her mind seemed as stirred, dark and brooding, as the coffee-colored clouds.
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of the chapter at: https://www.wattpad.com/445133409-the-gardens-of-marguerite-theory-of-relativity

“We first met Antoníto in front of Allende’s, when we bought flowers from him every week to take to the cemetery on Sundays. I remember once we could not go,” Savio confided, and then waved his finger. “’Níto did not forget us. No. He asked me as I was going into the market. I thought, did he bring white lilies—Juliana’s, her favorite—especially for us, but he said no. When I came out, he was talking to an old woman sitting at the bus stop. Antoníto smiled at her, said something, and then he left, and the woman opened the newspapers. There were three white lilies.” Savio shook his head. “I will not forget that. He could have sold these flowers. But he was waiting, for us, with lilies for Juliana."
          
          ~~~~~
          
          Read the rest of the chapter at: https://www.wattpad.com/418205006-the-gardens-of-marguerite-white-lilies

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