[stylist] chapter one

Donna Hill penatwork at epix.net
Mon May 24 21:16:59 UTC 2010


Hi Judith,
Wow! You did it! This is great!  I like how you collapsed some things 
for brevity and added some details about her perceptions as she came to. 
I like that you let the reader in on knowing about the package.
Keep up the good work,
Donna

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Judith Bron wrote:
> Hi guys, I redid chapter one using a lot of the suggestions you suggested.  I would appreciate your feedback.  Judith
>
> CHAPTER ONE
>
>  
>
> The last thing Jennifer Rabinowitz remembered was a stranger's voice yelling, "Watch out!"  The oncoming car struck her causing the young girl to fly into the air like a spinning top and land flat on her back on the busy Curtis Cove Street.  She remembered standing outside her body as the emergency medical technicians worked frantically to save her life. Randy, her best friend and captain of their high school football team, ran to get Sheila, Jennifer's foster mother.
>
> Jennifer gazed around this strange place.  Where was she?  Behind her was a busy street, and in front of her a dark corridor faintly lit with rows of what appeared to be flickering candles.  
>
> Jennifer felt enshrouded by the protection of pure love.  This was a totally strange sensation.  Never in her life had she felt so secure.  She heard a voice say, "I'm here, Jennifer.  I love you."
>
> "M..Mommy?" Jennifer stammered.  "But you're dead!"
>
> "No one is dead," her mother reassured her.  "Go back.  It's not your time."
>
> "Go back to what?" Jennifer challenged.  "To a foster family?  To a town that mocks me, mocks my name, and all that I want to be?  Why?"
>
> "You have lessons to learn," her mother returned.
>
> "What lessons?  What can life teach me?"
>
> "To live.  To love.  To hope.  To know who you are--and what you are!"
>
> "I love you mommy.  You're the only one who can love me!  No one here ..."
>
> At the word "here," Jennifer slammed back into her body, aware of intense pain and completely disoriented.
>
> This place smelled of disinfectant.  What was she doing in this sterile environment lying on a hospital bed with needles poking her and Sheila leaning over her?  Her hand instinctively reached to pull the needles from her arm.  
>
> Sheila's hand covered hers.  "Jennifer.  Are you there?  Jennifer!  Come back."
>
> Jennifer tried focusing on this strange place.  "Where's Randy?" Somehow she knew he should be there.
>
> "I sent him to the football field.  He has that important game today.  He didn't want to go until the doctor said you'd be all right."  
>
> "I was dead," Jennifer stated.  "I was dead, but Mommy sent me back."
>
> "You had a dream," Sheila responded quickly.  "We thought we'd lost you."
>
> A handsome man in Doctor's whites nudged Sheila away.  "Are you back with us, Jennifer?  What do you remember?"
>
> Jennifer thought about the question.  He couldn't mean her meeting with Mommy.  No.  He'd think she had a dream, the way Sheila did.
>
> "Jennifer!  Stay with me!"
>
> "A car," Jennifer said.  "Was I hit?  Am I badly hurt?"
>
> " Mostly bruised,  I think.  You tell me."
>
> Jennifer repositioned herself on the bed.  " I don't think anything's broken."
>
> "Quite right.  What day is it?"
>
> The day?  Jennifer tried to focus.  "Oh!  Saturday!  I have to get back to my sewing machine!  I'm making outfits for Mrs. Nelson's twins," she added to chase away the doctor's raised eyebrow.  "I'm quite good.  I plan to design clothing when I finish high school."
>
> "Ah, I see."  
>
> He turned to Sheila.  "Your daughter will be fine, Mrs. Rabinowitz."
>
> "I'm Mrs. Hamilton.  Jennifer is my foster daughter."
>
> Jennifer allowed her thoughts to return to that dark corridor and all inclusive feeling of love.  A feeling she never had before.  Sheila did her best, but she could never give her the same love as her real mother.  Whatever love was.  Jennifer had only a hazy idea of what that concept meant.  At this point in her life she didn't feel capable of giving or receiving that special emotion. 
>
> When Randy returned from the game Jennifer smiled weakly at him.  "Hi, Randy.  How did it go?"
>
> "I'll tell you after you tell me how you feel."
>
> In a frail voice Jennifer answered.  "I feel weak and sore.  I remember you running up to me."
>
> "Sure I did.  We lost the game.  I missed a touchdown pass."
>
> "I'm sorry, Randy.  I know how much that trophy means to you."
>
> "Right now I'm more worried about you than the trophy."
>
> Sheila said, "I have to get going.  Cindy has plans for the evening and Ted has to work.  I'll send Ted up with your things."  She kissed Jennifer and headed for the parking lot.
>
> On her way to the car Sheila thought about the little book with an inserted paper delivered a few months earlier by a strange man.  He had said, "Mrs. Hamilton, I'm a lawyer representing a family that perished in the holocaust.  This little packet containing a small book and paper were given to me to deliver to you for Jennifer Rabinowitz.  They are left by her parents.  It should be presented to her on her seventeenth birthday.  Please don't tell Jennifer or your husband about this meeting.  A good day to you."  The man left the house and she ran to the front window to watch him drive away.  But no car appeared on the driveway or street.  There was no man walking away from the house.  Totally spooked, she ran to her bedroom without looking at the little packet and placed it with other papers in her dresser.  
>
> A few days later her curiosity got the better of her and she opened it.  The material was written in a foreign language with non-English characters.  Sheila couldn't read it and doubted Jennifer could read it either.  Now Jennifer had survived what should have been a catastrophic accident.  Did that book and paper have anything to do with Jennifer's survival?  She sure wished she could hand the packet to Jennifer rather than waiting two months.  She couldn't wait until it was out of her possession.  But she was so freaked about everything that she dared not disregard the wishes of the messenger.  She opened her car door and slid in. 
>
> A white haired doctor, different than the one Jennifer had seen earlier, entered the room.  "Hello, Jennifer.  I'm Doctor Green and I'll be handling your case.  Is there anything I can do for you?"
>
> "Can you take these needles out of my arm?"
>
> "I want to keep the fluids going until tomorrow morning.  I'll evaluate you then.  What else can I do for you?"  
>
> "Can I take a shower and have something to drink?"
>
> "The nurse will help you with a shower in the morning and I'll send someone in with some juice.  See you tomorrow."
>
> After he left Randy asked, "How do you feel now?" 
>
> "I nearly died, but other than that fine."
>
> Randy laughed. "Can I ask you a serious question?" 
>
> "Sure.  But please forgive me if I'm not in the mood to answer it."  She sounded so fragile.
>
> "What will it take for you to go out with me?"  
>
> Extreme weakness punctuated her speech.  "Randy, there's a lot going on in my head.  I need time to straighten it all out.  Right now you're the best friend I have in the world.  Just keep on being my friend.  That's the best thing you can do for me."
>
> In a sympathetic voice Randy continued. "I know others give you a hard time about your last name.  Is that part of the problem?"
>
> Jennifer opened the juice container a nurse laid on her table.  "That's a big part.  I don't know who I am.  You guys know your parents, what they expect from you and people to turn to when you need answers to important questions.  I haven't had that since I was two.  
>
> "I also have my career in clothing design to think about.  I guess that's my identity for now.  But how can you create an identity out of a spool of thread, a piece of cloth and sewing notions?  I need more than that.  I need to explore this Jewish thing.  I guess my parents were Jewish.  How else would I end up with a name like Rabinowitz?  At the moment I don't know where to begin my search."  
>
> "If there's anything I can do to help you just ask."
>
> "Randy, do I have all kinds of bruises on my face?"
>
> Randy smiled.  "You look like the most beautiful girl in the world who got into a fight and almost lost."
>
> "I guess I didn't lose.  When I get up my courage I'll look in the mirror."  
>
> "You're looking tired.  I'll be back tomorrow morning."
>
> "Good night, Randy.  You're the best friend anyone could have.  Thanks for being here." 
>
> Jennifer closed her eyes hoping to make contact with her mother again.  But there was no loving voice, no hope, no purpose.  Only predictable blackness.  Her mother told her that she had to live, love, hope and know who she was.  But where could she learn about all these things that other kids knew from the minute they were born?  She felt aware of her physical pain and an emptiness inside.  "Come back to me, Mommy.  I need you."
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