a little house fanfic. the series has always been my childhood favorite.
don't you wish to wander in the endless prairie and have a date behind a crazy galloping horse rather than going to the cinema and having a romantic candlelight dinner?
The Chinese woman was as prim and porcelain as ever, watching Laura with those very eyes. Mary's rocking chair tranquil in the absence of the patient owner. The quilt bed sheet still with its merry green and red stripes, used to be Carrie's Christmas muffs. Laura could feel that after cleaning up, she and Carrie would collect the chickens' eggs and Carrie would play with Kitty's grandchildren on the field of corn saplings where Pa worked all day. Then when the labors of the day were met, Pa would play the fiddle along with the stars on the prairie skies while the family was comfort and sound.
This morning they ate the wedding cake, Ma made it so white and sweet and beautiful. But in Laura's tongue it was dull and sandy. Laura ate calmly but she could see Carrie timidly staring at her if she thought Laura was too busy cutting the bright yellow layer. Ma added more cakes to Carrie's plate and Pa talked about the good flour and eggs that made the cake so bountiful Carrie had to eat them as much as there were cakes left on the big plate. But Carrie didn't, there were at least ten slices of the cakes left yet Pa didn't seem to take notice.
After Carrie washed the dishes and Grace dried them, Laura could feel the house became sober and too solemn.
"I ought to take a walk, Ma, on Mary's favorite path," said Laura, wearing the sunbonnet on the top of the tousled chestnut, just as obedient Mary always did.
"Can I come with you?" Asked Carried so suddenly from under her half-done quilt blanket.
"Carrie," scolded Ma in the same tone she used in the olden days to tell Laura that 'children are to be seen, not listened'. Now she no longer used it to Laura since Laura was no longer a little girl. And somehow Laura felt a queer feeling in her bosom.
"It's okay Ma. Carrie can come with me to bring home another handful of prairie flowers."
"Then you may go, Carrie. Wear your sunbonnet and make sure you don't walk too far. And Laura, don't tramp for too long, I need to have a few words with."
"Yes, Ma," answered the duet.
Then the sisters went out to walk on the enormous prairie which its all was so dear to them. The sun was on its motherly mood for it was very gold, very tender and its early warmth was embracing. Laura and Carrie walked side by side holding hands, while letting the wind dominate their intimate conversation. They soon reached Mary's most beloved place in the whole world even the pleasant luxuries in the university couldn't rival. It was the same, always the same, with the white and pink flowers swayed by the crisp wind.
"Let's pick some for Ma," said Laura, bending. Carrie followed.
"Laura, you know, you always said you didn't want to get married. You wanted to stay at home forever and become a teacher like Miss Wilder," said Carrie a little too promptly.
"Seems like I am Mrs. Wilder now," sighed Laura with some humor and an inclination towards irony.
"Yes you are. And do you like it?"
"Likeness is relative, Carrie," answered Laura.
"How does it feel to be a married?"
"It feels like the last day at home, and a day before finding myself making a new home feels as homey as the one I've left. I sure will be a bit homesick; but Carrie, it's not like the little house Almanzo made is hundreds of miles away."
"Will you be happy, Laura? You are never always happy even at home with Pa and Ma."
"I do have my hopes high in anything but ever-happiness, Carrie. But I will be happy, I wish I will have Ma's kind of happiness. Ma loves Pa, and I do love Almanzo; I want to be a good wife for him," said Laura tenderly, for she knew from the time at the dining table that her sister and her would soon had this conversation only between two women who started to learn higher stage in life, and who care for one another deeply; so she wasn't quite ashamed to be less sensible.
"Do you think I should get married too someday?" asked Carrie dreamily; when a flower blooms, seeds will make new little sprouts.
"If there is love, please do. But don't dispose of yourself because of desperate desire or prompt affection,"
"Will you like your new life?" asked little Carrie with endless curiousness, not aware of the examples of 'desperate desire' neither 'prompt affection' her sister knew little of.
"Well, I will be feeding the hens, knitting quilt blankets and sweeping the hearth; it will not be a new life at all," Laura laughed, then continued more eloquently, "I will, for there is love and a home to be filled with it to my heart's content."
"I wish I will fall in love soon!" exclaimed little Carrie witnessing love filled her closest person to the core, "And maybe he will propose me at night under the starry skies."
"Hush, dear, a girl who wants to 'stay at home with Ma, Pa; nurse Mary and witness Grace's new home' ought not to wish for love to come. For a ride behind a crazy galloping horse had stolen her sister's decided heart!" Laura laughed so heartily, for a moment she could forget the weary feeling of leaving the old home for it was the world for her, and although she could visit anytime she wanted, she would no longer be part of the intimate nights when Pa's fiddle sang and in the mornings when Ma made soft pancakes; and it left her in invisible despair.
Carrie giggled and they continued picking the free prairie flowers.
"The sun's rising higher now, we must go home. I promised Ma to have a few words before leaving, and I'm sure I will need it."
The prairie stood still and watched as the sisters walked back home, one to stay and learn and wait; the other to pack and say goodbye.