Link: Lost Faith Title Page and Description

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Stepping through the door to the right of the old grandfather clock in the living room, Erica walked into the library. Its dark interior illuminated only by the little light that managed to seep its way past the heavy curtains that covered the room's single massive window, she followed her aunt to the right; rows of bookshelves jutting out from the wall opposite the door.

Following the woman around the corner and further to the right, she determined it had to be directly below the room they'd given her, just as the living room was beneath Faith's and her aunt Heather's rooms. Slowly building a map of the house in her head, she looked around as Fredrick entered and drew back the heavy curtains, showering the room in the light managing to make its way through the heavy clouds and freezing rain.

She had never seen so many books outside a public library.

"This is our library, Erica." Heather said matter-of-factly, having come at last to the other end of the room near the window. "This far wall is Faith's library, and now yours as well. You may feel free to take any book on those shelves. If you want a book that is anywhere else, you need to ask my permission first. Do you understand?"

She nodded absently as she looked at the wide assortment of books available. "Yes, Aunt Heather." In doing so, she realized she'd mimicked the slight little curtsy she'd seen Faith do every time she said 'Yes, Mamma.' She hadn't actually thought to do it, it just seemed the natural thing to do.

"Richard expanded the library when we bought this house." she reminisced. "Originally, this part of the house was a separate room, a den, I believe. He combined them, then added the rows of shelves on the south wall to expand the library's capacity. Many of these books have been in my family for generations. The original library could never have contained them all. If you do request to use any of them, please be very careful. Some are quite old."

In awe of the number of books just in 'Faith's Library', she nodded and curtsied absently. "I will, Aunt Heather." Looking over the collection, she saw nearly every novel ever written for children from the mid-eighteenth century through the mid-twentieth, as well as several sets of encyclopedias.

While Erica perused the books, Faith came bounding up, happy as a lark, having completely forgotten her disappointment at being denied permission to play. "Erica! Have you ever read this one? It's one of my favorites!"

"Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm?" she read the title. "No, but I've heard of it. I think they made it into a movie once." Taking the book graciously, she wandered up and down the shelves, looking for anything that seemed interesting.

"That should be enough time." Heather instructed after a few minutes. "Take what you have to the living room and read quietly until ten o'clock."

Not having found anything that had caught her interest, Erica simply took the book Faith had handed her and followed her cousin out to lay on the floor in front of the fire where Fredrick had put a blanket for them to keep warm while they read. The two lying down to read, Heather reading on her usual loveseat, she looked at Faith's book. "What did you pick?"

"Little Women. I like Beth the most, even though it's mostly about Jo."

Shrugging, Erica settled down on her elbows to read in front of the fire. A short time later she noticed that she was doing something she'd done for years without realizing. The two pre-teens were both lying on their stomachs with their feet toward the fire and at some point Faith had started kicking her feet up as she read, mimicking what Erica had been doing. Imagining how they must look, she thought how it really was a very girlish thing to do and giggled. Looking up, she saw her aunt steal a glance at them, making her smile melt as she looked down and resumed reading once more.

Not long after, she heard someone enter the living room from the archway into the dining room and kitchen. Looking around, she saw Fredrick holding some metal racks and standing next to a waiting Franchesca who was carrying a small basket.

"Madame?" Fredrick began. "Franchesca has hand laundered the soiled clothes, however the only place suitable for drying them quickly is in front of the fire. With your permission?"

Not relishing the thought of seeing Erica's boy clothes hanging to dry in her living room, she was however more eager than ever to see Erica returned to her old clothes, mistaking the behavior as Erica slipping too easily and happily into newly acquired girlish habits. "Proceed, Fredrick. Please make room." she directed toward the two youths.

Both children scooted away from the fireplace, leaving room for Fredrick, Franchesca, and the improvised drying rack Fredrick had made out of grills from the oven.

While Fredrick started setting up the racks for drying, Cook stormed in. "Mrs. Hargrave! Fredrick has taken all the racks out of my oven! Without 'em, I won't be able to prepare dinner or supper!"

Heather put down her book. "I see." Turning to Fredrick she sighed, "Is there no other option?"

"I'm afraid not, Madame." he shook his head solemnly. "I find we are quite unprepared for this circumstance. The fire is the only means of drying clothes quickly, and the oven racks are the only viable means of setting clothes in front of it to do so. The only alternative would be to hang them on lines in the library or spare room, which would take two to three days to dry."

Thinking a moment, willing to do whatever was necessary to get Erica back in pants, she nodded. "Very well, Fredrick." Turning to Cook she sighed, "You'll have to make do without them until later today at the soonest, Cook. Hopefully they'll be available in time to cook supper."

Scowling, she answered, "Yes ma'am! But just so you know, I don't like it!" Turning to leave, she glanced down at Erica with a pained expression.

Watching her leave for the kitchen once more, Erica wondered what the exchange was about before she looked over at Faith and for the first time saw her visibly upset. Leaning in close, she whispered, "What's wrong?"

Looking close to tears, she whispered back. "Once your clothes are dry, you might not want to be Erica anymore!"

"I think even if I have a chance to go back to... the way I was... I might not." she reached out a comforting hand to Faith.

Taking it, she smiled. "Really?"

"I really like being your cousin Erica." she smiled genuinely. "It's a lot more fun than when... when I... um... wasn't." Leaning in close to whisper even quieter, she added, "Your clothes are really nice and pretty!" Faith squeezed her hand happily before Heather interrupted the moment.

"That's enough whispering. Back to reading please."

Letting go of each other's hands, the two went back to their books. When the grandfather clock struck ten, Heather released them both to go upstairs and pick toys or a game they could quietly play in the living room to stay warm; the storm outside continuing to rage as the temperature plummeted.

Several minutes later, Erica stood patiently behind Faith as she rummaged through the toy box at the foot of her bed. "It's funny." Erica noted. "I didn't think I'd like Rebecca, but when your mom said we could go play, I was actually kind of disappointed that you didn't want to keep reading."

Looking back over her shoulder, Faith smiled. "It's a great book, isn't it?" Going back to her rummaging, she shortly pulled out a board game box and handed it to her slightly younger cousin. "Take this please, Erica?"

Taking the box, she watched Faith put all the other games back. More interested in the fascinating way the bubbly girl packed her toy box than the game she'd been handed, Erica watched as Faith neatly and carefully placed every object back in a specific place, finally dropping the lid when it was done to her satisfaction. Burning with curiosity, Erica asked, "Why do you put everything in a certain way? Doesn't that take a lot of extra time?"

Standing up, Faith shook her head. "Not really. When I want something I know just where to get it. Mamma taught me that being organized saves time in the long run because you don't waste time trying to find things and cleaning up messes that you wouldn't have if you were organized."

Walking over to her wardrobe, Faith opened it and revealed a huge assortment of dresses. "See? If I know what dress I want to wear, I know exactly where it is, saving time trying to find it. Plus, they don't wrinkle!"

While Faith talked for a few minutes about organization, Erica looked at her dresses. Only half listening, she was instead imagining what she would look like wearing each of them. Suddenly conscious of what she was doing, and remembering what was said while her ratty clothes were set out to dry, she chided herself.

Faith closed her wardrobe and took the game from her absent hands. Noticing her far away look, she asked, "Erica? Are you alright?"

Sighing, she stepped backwards until she felt Faith's bed against the back of her legs and sat down. "I really don't know, Faith."

She walked over and placed the game on her bed, sitting beside her. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to get Mamma?"

"No, I'm not sick. I'm just... sad."

"Why?"

"I... I mean... Ugh!" Frustrated at her inability to express what she was feeling, she flopped back onto Faith's bed, staring up at Faith's pink canopy while her feet dangled from the edge. "I like being Erica, a lot... but I'm not supposed to."

Wrinkling her nose up in confusion, Faith asked. "Why do you think that?"

Closing her eyes, she tried to find the words that would make her understand. "Your mom really doesn't like me wearing your clothes or being Erica. I can tell. I think she's gonna make me stop... very soon... like as soon as lunch is over. I really like being Erica, but I think I can't like it. I... I don't want to make Aunt Heather mad at me." She left out the part she feared so much she dare not even speak it out loud, that if she displeased her aunt severely enough, Heather would send her away, just as the Stone's had.

Moving the game, she lay down on her side next to her cousin. "Didn't Mamma say it was good for you to be Erica for a while?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't like it." she mumbled. "She wants me to be a normal guy, and normal guys don't like dresses. Besides, I have to do whatever she says. She didn't have to take care of me, ya' know. I kinda owe her. So I'll hafta stop being Erica whenever she says to, even if I like being a girl."

Quietly, Faith mulled over the idea. "I guess I don't understand why she doesn't like you wearing my dresses. I mean, the way I see it, there's lots of girls I know that hate dresses. Some don't even like me wearing dresses! My old friend? Jennifer Wilks? She lives a little ways down the highway. She hates dresses! She told me that I should stop wearing them because she says they're... um.... de-grating? So it figures that since not all girls like dresses, then not all guys have to hate them, right?"

She opened her eyes and turned her head to face Faith. "If a boy likes to wear dresses, he gets teased by everyone and called names. If a girl doesn't like dresses, nobody cares. Girls can wear pants and guy stuff and it's fine, but boys can only like boy stuff... nothing else. It's just the way it is."

Faith sat up. "That's not fair!"

Sitting up, she leaned on one elbow and faced her. "No one ever said life was fair, Faith." she sighed depressingly. "If it was, we'd still have dads."

Sighing and lying back on her bed, Faith reluctantly agreed. "I suppose. I guess it's sort of like Mamma's friends, Aunt Brooke and Aunt Jenny? They live in a little house just north of here. Aunt Brooke was my daddy's best friend! She was in the war with him when he... um... when he died."

"My dad was killed in the war, too." Erica shared. Holding out her hand to Faith, she smiled when her cousin took it.

"I guess I see what you mean about life not being fair. When they got married last year, the ladies at church called them names I'm not allowed to say. Mamma stood up for them, then Pastor gave a sermon about having a splinter in your eye or something and everyone stopped calling them names. Aunt Brooke is really pretty, and Aunt Jenny is super nice! It wasn't fair that they got called names just because they're two married women."

Nodding in understanding, Erica sighed. "So anyway, that's what's wrong. I really like being Erica, and I love your dresses, but I can tell your mom isn't going to let me be Erica, or let me borrow your clothes, anymore." Pausing a moment, she began understanding herself. "I never really thought about it before this morning. I just assumed that because everyone told me to be a boy I had to be one, but it's like I was supposed to be a girl. That's what the doctor told my parents before I was born, that I was going to be a girl." Turning sullen, she looked down at her pretty dress. "But it doesn't matter. Even if your mom did let me be Erica, everyone would make fun of me."

Standing and stepping in front of Erica, Faith held out her hands to help her back up. Once she was standing again, Faith put her right hand over her heart. "Erica? I promise you that no matter what, I will never make fun of you liking to wear my dresses or for being a girl! I think you're prettier than anyone as a girl! I wish you could stay Erica forever and would never have to wear those ugly boy clothes ever again!"

Just as she finished speaking, both of them heard the smoke alarm sounding. Erica ran for the door to her room, but Faith stopped her from opening it.

"No! If there's a fire, we're supposed to get down on the floor!"

The two got down on their hands and knees and waited. When the noise stopped, Faith checked the door for heat. Feeling nothing, Erica reached up and opened the door as the two started crawling toward the stairway where they heard footsteps running up toward them. Looking up as her aunt rounded the corner, Erica wasn't sure what to do and just froze.

"What are you two doing?" she asked impatiently.

"What they taught us in school to do in a fire, Mamma." her daughter answered as though it was a silly question.

"You two! Get up and follow me!" Heather barked.

Getting off the floor and walking over to her, the irate woman started down the stairs, the two children following. On reaching the living room, it was obvious why the smoke alarm had sounded. There in front of the fireplace was a smoldering pile of cloth with Fredrick pouring water on it to put them out.

Swallowing hard, Erica looked at her aunt. "My clothes?"

She nodded. "Your clothes. Where were you two a few minutes ago?"

The two looked at one another, then back to her. "We were upstairs getting a game, Mamma." her daughter answered shyly. "You told us we could."

"It doesn't take twenty minutes to get a game and come back down." she said, trying to keep from shouting. "Who did it?"

"Did what?" Erica asked, a genuine look of confusion on her face.

Faith understood her mother's implication much sooner, her eyes opening wide in shock. "Mamma! You don't think..."

"Yes, I do!" Heather interrupted. "And now I have a good idea who and why!" Walking up to her daughter, Heather took a breath and calmed herself. Folding her arms, she looked down at her daughter. "Faith? Tell the truth and your punishment will be much less severe. You know that."

Scared that she was to be punished for something she didn't do, Faith was near to hysterics. "Mamma! I didn't! I swear I didn't!" Unfortunately, her thoughts drifted back to the wish she'd made, wondering if she had done it by wishing for it. It left enough doubt in her eyes that Heather could see it.

Wanting to help Faith, once she figured out what was going on, Erica got her aunt's attention. "Aunt Heather? Faith and I were together the whole time. She couldn't have done it. Maybe it was an accident?"

Seeing that Erica was showing no tell-tales of a lie and appeared to be answering honestly, she looked at Faith who had shown she was holding something back, sure now that Faith had sneaked away without Erica seeing. "I'll give you one more chance to come clean, Faith. The truth!"

Backing away, Faith started breathing heavily. "But... I..." She tried to find the words to make her mother believe her, but it was impossible to prove that she hadn't done it, especially since she thought she might have. Thinking fast, she equivocated. "I didn't touch them, Mamma! I promise!"

"Very well then." Heather said in a menacing tone, her experience letting her see the deception in Faith's body language. "Your punishment..."

"Stop!" Erica shouted. "I did it!"

Snapping her head around to look at her niece, she saw several tells that told her she was lying to protect Faith. Looking back at her daughter, she scowled. "Are you going to just stand there and let your cousin take the blame for it, Faith?" she tried shaming her.

"But I didn't, Mamma! And I know she didn't either!" Faith started to cry. "She couldn't have! She never left the room! I saw her the whole time! Erica! Tell her the truth!" she pleaded, but saw her cousin standing rigid as a board with a thousand-yard-stare in her eyes.

"Very well." Heather growled. "Both of you, go upstairs and wait in Faith's room. I'll be up in a few minutes to tell you what your punishments will be." Once they made their way up the stairs and were out of earshot, Heather turned back to Fredrick. "Can you tell what happened?" she asked.

Turning to her as he ran his fingers over a burnt shirt fragment, he nodded. "Indeed, Madame. I believe Cook could shed some light on the issue."

Theresa Cook stood defiantly at the entryway to the dining room. "Yes, I can, Mrs. Hargrave!" she snapped.

Quickly making her way to stand in front of her household cook of more than thirty years, Heather spoke in hushed tones. "Explain please."

Heading into the kitchen for privacy, Cook turned as her employer entered behind her. Once the door closed with Fredrick waiting nearby, she stared Heather down, despite her shorter stature. "I poured lamp oil on 'em!"

Heather was taken aback. After a moment of silence she asked, "But why?"

Theresa never flinched. "You know a lot about a lot of things Mrs. Hargrave, but what you don't know a lot about is grief." Seeing her employer about to object, she waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, you know enough about it to have some sense of it... as an adult. I know you still grieve the loss of Mr. Hargrave... and your parents... and you have your fancy degree, but you cannot understand the grief of a child who's lost what that child has!"

Stiffening at the accusation, Heather scoffed. "Just what gives you the right to say I know nothing of grief?"

The household cook stalwartly faced her down, wielding a wooden spoon like an accusing finger. "The right of an orphan, dearie! I lost my parents at the same age as that child! You were lucky enough to be an adult... with a sizable inheritance to get you through it! That child is suffering a profound grief that cannot be measured... losing your parents before you're ready to assume the responsibilities of adulthood. Then uprooted from all you've ever known, taken in by strangers! It makes a child feel unwanted and abandoned, no matter how many people she has telling her otherwise!"

She poked her wooden spoon towards her employer, coming within an inch of actually poking her with it and making Heather back away. "And you! So eager to resume a state of normalcy that you'd make extra efforts to see to it he can be put back in pauper's rags before suppertime! Pushed out of the only thing holding back his grief... his escape into a girl's world! Oh, you make grand statements about it being 'his choice' if he wants to play at being a girl for a while, but make no mistake! That child knows you don't like it and feels so indebted to you for taking him in, he'd rather endure the grief than go against you! You can fire me for doing it Mrs. Hargrave, but before you do, just know this! The deed is done and now you're stuck with it! So if you think getting rid of me will solve things, you better think again!"

Silence filled the room like a vapor, threatening to suffocate them. Finally, Cook stepped slowly up to her long time employer and lowered her voice to a caring tone. "You know me, Heather. I've been a part of this family since you were ten. You know I don't act rashly, but this child needs this. The idea of making the dear wear rags while the rest of us have fine clothes? That poor thing needs an escape from all that... and one that can be counted on for a while. At least until he can manage to swallow his grief and move on. Maybe a day... maybe a week... maybe a year. Eventually he'll go back to being himself, but forcing it for propriety's sake? I think you already know it's wrong Heather, but for once... put your pride and fancy education aside... and listen to your heart."

Heather had been about to fire her, consequences be damned, if for no other reason than for going behind her back, but the more she listened, the more of what Theresa said made sense. Clearing her throat and raising her chin up, Heather addressed her. "I should fire you for it, but you are right, Cook." Her eyes turning toward the floor, her pride evaporated and she took on the look of the ten-year-old girl Theresa once knew. "I have been stuffy and prideful. Richard would be so disappointed in me for that!"

Relaxing and taking a seat at the kitchen table, she continued. "Oh, I know it's no excuse, but Erica's death has affected me much more than I've let on. She... she was my last tie to Richard... and Jack... and I loved her as though she were my own sister. Now I'm afraid that she's entrusted me with her child and I've let her... and Jack... down! I wanted to help him, but it seems like all I've done is confuse him. Erica warned me that he wasn't very boyish and asked me to make sure he grew up into a good man like Jack, and I put him in a dress! And he liked it!" Looking over at Theresa, she shook her head in disbelief. "Lamp oil?"

"I wanted to make sure!" she smiled at back.

Fredrick, who had stood by impassively through the entire exchange, cleared his throat. "Madame? If I may, the children are upstairs awaiting your adjudication."

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, the children! What'll I tell them?"

Cook walked over to her and rubbed her back gently. "Tell them the truth, dearie. I oiled the grills and some of it caught fire. It's a half truth, but one that does more good than harm." Heather looked up as she continued. "Sometimes the greater love is to take the sin onto one's self to ease the suffering of others. I'm sure He understands! As for Jack and Erica? The little I got to know them tells me that they would understand, dearie. Better to let their child be a girl for a time than to suffer needlessly."

Standing gracefully, Heather started out of the kitchen. Stopping just short of pushing the door open, she half turned and addressed the woman who'd taken such a great risk for her niece. "I'll deduct the cost of one set of boys clothing from your check..." Pausing a moment, she concluded, "...when Erica decides she's ready to be Eric once more and desires them." At that, she made her way up and to her daughter's room. Knocking gently, she opened the door after a moment to see both of them seated on Faith's bed, looking for all the world like convicted prisoners awaiting sentencing.

Walking into the room slowly, she cleared her throat. "Erica? Are you still intent on professing to be the one responsible for your clothes catching on fire?"

She sighed, gathered her nerve, and looked up at her aunt. "If it'll mean Faith isn't punished for something she didn't do, then yes, Aunt Heather. I did it. I burned up my old clothes."

Seeing the anguish on Faith's face, she walked over to the vanity and sat down. "I know that's not true, Erica. I'm afraid I owe you both an apology. I erred in accusing either of you. The fire was not your fault."

Both children looked up at her, astonished that a grown-up was apologizing to children. Finally, Faith asked, "What happened, Mamma?"

Her mother sighed before telling her half-truth. "It seems Cook got some inflammable oil on the oven grills. It became too hot and caught fire." Looking over at the two relieved children, she sighed apologetically. "Oh, girls! I'm so sorry I accused you falsely! Can you ever forgive me?"

Immediately, both got up and hugged her, each in turn offering their forgiveness. Faith cried, telling her mother about the wish she'd made, making her think she had done it. After a brief exchange of tears, hugs, and kisses on the cheek, Heather looked at her young charge.

"Erica? I want to ask you something and I expect you to tell me the truth." she intoned seriously. Gathering her nerve, Heather remembered what Cook said and just hoped to providence that this was the right course of action. "Do you want to stay living as Erica for a while? I mean a long while? Before you answer, I want you to know that I hope the answer is yes! I have to admit, you do look like your mother when she was your age, and it brings me great comfort to feel a little of her presence in my home again!"

Erica looked confused, unsure if the offer was some sort of trick. Taking a chance, she asked, "Do you mean it, Aunt Heather? It would be OK if I stayed Erica? Even once the roads are open?"

Heather smiled back at her genuinely. "Yes, Erica! I really mean it!"

Throwing her arms around her aunt, feeling jubilation at the idea of no longer being 'Eric the orphan boy' and becoming a kind of reincarnation of her own mother. "Yes, Aunt Heather! I would like to stay Erica!"

Hugging her new niece, she felt Faith hug them both while they hugged each other. "Oh, thank you, Mamma! I just know Erica will be happy here!"