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Chapter 1 - Coffee and Sunlight

Only the very oldest people remembered a time when humans could see in color. 

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I awaken to the sun on my face and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air.

I squint my eyes, expecting the sunlight leaking through my windows to irritate my eyes, but am instead met with a gentle beam of light that has casted itself beautifully over the surface of my bedroom.

I stretch my arms over my head, my limbs still stiff from yesterday's chores, and lift the quilt off of my legs and slide out of bed, setting my bare feet on my soft carpet.

I never wear socks to bed. Mother says it is very unladylike, and will not tolerate any disobedience of the matter.

I get to my feet and make my bed, which is mother's number one morning requirement.

I fluff my pillows just right, and when finally satisfied with my handiwork, briskly walk to my dresser to dress for the day.

Today is Saturday, so I am free to wear anything reasonable aside from my school uniform. Hence; mothers second morning requirement.

After what could have very well been a crisis, choosing between a Hooveritable house dress and a fitted jumper, I settled on the dress because mother says it compliments my skin perfectly.

I make sure to roll on socks as I only wear my leather heeled boots during autumn. 

I carefully take a seat on my stool in front of my small mirror so I can do my hair (mother's third morning requirement). 

I carefully brush my hair and make an even part at the back, twisting the long strands into two braids that drape over my shoulders.

I lift my chin and study myself in the mirror, tilting my face side to side, admiring my reflection in the glass.

"Nora! Breakfast!" my mother's voice chimes from downstairs.

"Coming, mother!" I call. 

I stand and open my bedroom door, picking up the ends of my dress so I don't loose my footing on the staircase.

I round the hall and enter our small kitchen.

Mother, with her hair in a bun, a cup of coffee in her right hand, the paper in her left, sits at the table, with a plate of creamed chipped beef on toast in front of her.

"Good morning, mother," I say.

"Good morning, Nora, how was your sleep"?

"Fair. And yours"?

"Very well dear, how about a spot of breakfast"?

"Yes please," and I fix my plate and take a seat at the table across from her.

I bite into my toast as mother says; "I've read something quite interesting in this morning's paper".

I look up at her, straightening my posture, another one of mother's rules: No slouched backs. "And what's that?" I ask her.

"Your friend Archie, he won an award for his contribution to your school's annual founding anniversary," she says, handing me the paper, and taking a sip of her coffee. 

I examine the paper carefully.

On the front page, the headline reads; "Hemingford School's 30th Founding Anniversary of 1930". Then, when skimming over the description, I see "Class of 1930, Senior Archie Alden is presented with the annual "Student Recognition" award for his contribution to the Founding of Hemingford Schools ceremony", and I smile, knowing how hard he worked for this ceremony.

I move my gaze over the paper, looking over the faded, inked features of my best friend Archie Alden. A grin spread across his face. Behind him, stands our school in all its glory, with a large banner strung across the entry doors announcing; "Hemingford Schools (founded in 1900) 30th Anniversary"!

"You must be very proud of him, dear, that boy is a good example for you".

"Yes, mother. You have informed me of that many times," and I dot the edges of my mouth with a napkin, clearing away all toast crumbs and pushing my chair back from the table, I head to the counter, washing my plate in the sink.

I reach into our cup cabinet and take down a small coffee mug, and pour myself some of mother's coffee.

I take my seat back at the table and quietly scoot my chair back in, mother staring at me over the rim of her coffee mug.

"Is there a problem mother"? 

"When did you begin drinking coffee, Nora"?

"No particular time, I was just going to try a cup, unless you prefer me not to, I can pour this-",

"Nonsense, nonsense, of course you can have a taste, just go slow, it is piping hot".

I raise the mug to my lips and slowly take a drink, pursing my lips so I don't scald my tongue too badly.

I feel the black liquid reach my throat and nearly choke, not only from the hotness, but also the taste is rather horrid.

I set the mug down on the wood of the table and set my hands in my lap, trying to control my face and not make any disturbing expressions or mother will scold me.

"Not your normal cup of tea, dear"?

I look up and see her hand smothering a smile on her face, "I looked that frazzled"?

She laughs pleasantly, shaking her head, a few strands of her bun coming loose; "Yes, I say you will have more pleasantries while sticking to tea".

"Yes, mother," I say, now embarrassed from her laughing at my lack of taste in coffee.

"Mother"?

I turn my head to the right and see my eighteen-year-old brother Emmett standing in the doorway of the kitchen. 

Good morning Emmett, how was your sleep"?

"Very well mother, why are we laughing? May I be included in this conversation"?

"Unfortunately, Emmett, we have just now ended the conversation," I say to him, lifting my chin.

"Nora, remember your manners, that was quite unladylike".

"Yes, mother," I say.

"Nonetheless, I am off to father's work. He has told me that he is in need of new workers, and I was first to volunteer".

"Won't you stay for breakfast?" mother questions.

"I cannot, I'm afraid, father has requested that I arrive no later than 8:00," he glances at our stove clock and says; "so might I leave now, I will be on schedule," and he kisses mother on the cheek and gives a brief farewell to me before heading out to the front walk.

"What has come between you and your brother? You two were quite close when you were younger".

"Yes mother, but now we have matured and both started separate lives. I do miss his company on occasion, but I have Archie, and he's more of a second brother than a best friend to me. He's my only friend". We all expected Emmett to head to university once he had completed all grades of education when he turned eighteen, but he settled on staying home, to work with father.

"Well, I suppose that is reasonable. How are you and Archie? Has he been treating you fairly"?

"Yes mother, he treats me as if I were his own kin".

"Very good. That will be good practice for the two of you, treating each other as if related by blood, as you two could have kin of your own one day".

"Mother!" I exclaim, "Archie is only my best friend, he doesn't love me in that way"!

"Nora, do not change the subject. I have seen the way he looks at you. The love in his eyes is unlike any love spell I have seen a gentleman be cast under in my time".

"Mother," I plead, desperately wishing to talk about something, anything but this matter.

"Alright, I sense that I have embarrassed you, and I apologize dear," she says, standing and washing her dish and coffee mug, placing them in the sink next to my plate. 

"Mother"?

"Yes?" she replies, taking my coffee mug and pouring the murky black liquid down the sink drain.

"When will we see grandmother next"?

"Did you forget? We will be visiting her tomorrow for breakfast, why do you ask"?

I hesitate, before saying; "I would very much like to ask her about her childhood and the colors".

The coffee mug slips from her hands and shatters in the sink. Her voice comes out curt; "You will not speak of the colors to your grandmother, do you understand me? You know that our world as it is is perfectly fine. Nothing from the time of her childhood, and now is different. There never were any colors. I forbid you from asking her any questions about her childhood. Do you understand"?

I nod my head; "Yes mother. I understand. I am deeply sorry for bringing up the matter".

"Very well," she says, carefully retrieving the broken pieces of the coffee mug from the sink.

"Fortunately, the mug did not shatter any plates," she says, her tone now back to normal, sounding smooth as honey. 

A knock at the entrance door of our small house steals my attention from her hands moving in the sink.

"Would that be Archie?" mother inquires.

"Possibly," I say, and hurry to open the front door.

I open the door to reveal a smiling Archie in all his glory.

"Good morning, Nora"!

"Good morning, Archie, I've seen you in the paper just mere minutes ago".

"Is that so, I haven't gotten a chance to look over this morning's paper due to this early arrival, but on different matters, you look very nice in that dress".

"You as well, I admire the charcoal sweater vest," I say, taking the neckline between my thumb and index fingers, gingerly feeling the wool.

"Thank you. Where might your mother and Emmett be? I would like to see my charming self in fine print".

"Emmett has gone to father's work for working assistance matters. Mother is in the kitchen".

He follows me into our kitchen and mother looks up from the now open morning paper, her loose strands of hair back in the bun.

"Hello, Archie, is your morning quite well"?

"Yes, Mrs. Whitlock, very well, and yours"?

"Very swell, and please, you may call me Thelma, after all, we are like family after all these years," she gives me a knowing glance.

I bite back the urge to roll my eyes, because mother would strongly disapprove of that, and instead nod and smile. It is true, afterall, I have been best friends with dear Archie ever since the second grade, and we are now in grade twelve, at Hemingford School.

"May I see the morning paper, Thelma"?

She smiles at hearing him say her first name and closes the paper to the front page, handing it to him.

"Thank you," and he reads over the headline and description.

He neatly folds the paper into a crisp square, and places it on the edge of the table.

"Will you two be going out today?" mother asks.

"Yes, if that is what Nora would enjoy on this Saturday," he says looking at me.

"Yes, I would enjoy that".

There is an awkward silence that drags on for a few moments and all that can be heard is the song of a chickadee bird and the light autumn wind rustling through the leaves of the trees. 

Until mother breaks the silence.

"Archie, we are visiting Nora's grandmother tomorrow morning for breakfast, would you care to join us"?

I am intrigued by this proposal, but another morning with Archie sounds wonderful. 

"That would be splendid, what time"?

"9:00 sharp".

"Yes, I believe that will go nicely with my schedule. I do have a few letters to compose for the town hall, but that will be later in the afternoon. Yes. I will accept your invitation grandly". 

"All is settled then. You will arrive here no later than 8:40, yes"?

"Yes, ma'am," he nods.

"The walk is approximately fifteen minutes with no automobiles on the road".

"We won't be taking father's car?" I ask, confused.

"No, dear, your father will be in his workplace, remember"?

"No, I don't recall. Will Emmett be joining us"?

"Certainly. Grandma Josephine is quite fond of dear Emmett. He has always been her favorite, you know".

"Yes. I know. And please there is no need to reinform me mother. Now, Archie and I should be on our way," I say, pulling his arm.

"Yes, yes, you two go along on your little adventures for today. I will be here, hanging the laundry on the clothesline and making myself a nice lunch". 

"Very well, mother. Come along, Archie," and I lead him by the arm to the front door and out into the front lawn. 

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