Tiny sighed. This new school for “born actors” as her mother put it was the most boring place. The rest of Tiny’s family thought she was lucky because she didn’t ever have homework in the other subjects besides acting, since the school didn’t spend much time teaching them. Mrs. Stewert the librarian who acted as Tiny’s tutor answered any questions.

“Hi Tiny. I’ll make you a deal. If you can practice with us for just a few more minutes then I’ll help you with that one scene you’re having trouble with,” Miss Sean said to Tiny, bringing her out of her thoughts. Even though this was a boring school Tiny liked some of the teachers. Like the always understanding Miss Sean and Mr. Trey who taught dances (he insisted on the kids calling him by his first name) and of course the wonderful Mrs. Stewert.

Tiny concentrated on what she was doing which was trying to tell Chris his lines through his mind. It greatly frustrated her because he couldn’t remember his lines for this scene, or any other at that. He slowly stuttered out his lines to Tiny who was playing the main character Deborah.

The class was working on a play about a young lady Deborah who all the boys liked. (Hm, well that’s a typical girl dream for ya...) But Deborah didn’t feel any emotion towards any of them except her best friend Dan. But Dan didn’t seem to have any interest in her whatsoever. The play ended with her almost dying and he realizes he really does like her and they married and blah, blah, blah. Luckily, she didn’t have to really kiss Dan because Miss Sean knew she just couldn’t. (Obviously I wasn’t quite sold on boys yet when I wrote this, lol) They just had to fake it.

The only scene Tiny had trouble on remembering was the one where Dwight (note all the D names) proposed to her and she turned him down and began to think about Dan. At this part of the play, Tiny always thought that this whole play was just a big worthless time waster. But Miss Sean wanted everyone to have a romantic and dramatic background in acting. And Tiny would do almost anything to please Miss Sean.

So she lived through the scene with Dan’s sputtering lines and abrupt halts from the doctor (this was at the hospital where she almost died, almost) because he too could not steadily remember his lines. She looked forward to the weekend when she cold go home and run around with her parents and older brother Bradley. It was Friday, if she could just live another hour she would be home bound.

“Ok Girlygirl. Let’s work on the dreaded scene,” Miss Sean joked. She was right, it was almost Tiny’s least favorite scene, besides of course the wedding.

“Do I have to?” Tiny complained.

“How about this. As soon as we get this scene right once then I’ll let everybody go home early,” Miss Sean was definitely one for bargaining. And so the scene started... and finished. So everyone got to go home early, thanks to the many hardships of Tiny Sugar, star actress. (That name is atrocious.) At least she wished she were. Then she wouldn’t be stuck at this school with all the dorky kids who couldn’t remember their lines.

“All who need a ride to the air port (ah, two words; nice. I do that several times in this story.) come with me as soon as you’re packed!” Mr. Spencer hollered over all the commotion. (So he’s going to sit there and wait for all the kids to go back to their dorms and pack?) You guessed it, Mr. Spencer was not someone to like. (How could we guess it? He’s only said one thing that wasn’t mean or anything) All the school got out early that day, Tiny guessed the teachers wanted to go home as much as she did. She had packed last night because she couldn’t get to sleep and all she did now was grab her bag from the dorm room, which she shared with Kala who was always having guys over and not letting Tiny in. (Wow, that’s like a college theme, lol, that I thought of in elementary school! I wonder if I really knew why though...)

She was about to step onto the bus when Mrs. Stewert came running up to her, “Sorry Tiny but your Mom just called. She says she is really sorry but she and your father have to work all weekend and your brother is staying at your Grandmother’s. If you would like you can stay at my house for the week. I know that it’s Spring Break and you would probably like to spend the week with your family. But any time you are welcome at my house.”

“Thanks Mrs. Stewert but I think I’ll stay at Cozy Cottage.” (So the teacher is okay with Tiny just going and staying by herself for a week? And notice how it hops from a free weekend to Spring Break. Watch, it does that several more times.)

Mrs. Stewert alone knew that Cozy Cottage was a tiny cottage located deep in the woods by a small brook. It had belonged to Granny Violent who had been a great friend of Tiny’s before she passed away. In her will Granny Violet had left the cottage and everything in it to her favorite child Tiny. Tiny recalled many a happy times when she had stayed with Granny Violent in that small dwelling taking (talking) with Granny about Granny’s many beaus (what we would call boyfriends) back when she was younger. Granny had been like a second Mother. A better one than Tiny’s real mom had been. Mrs. Stewert had also known Granny Violet and knew all about the cottage but was sworn to secrecy never to reveal the hiding place.

Tiny turned around and, making sure no one was watching, made a dash for the woods. (Because nobody notices a girl making a break for the random forest surrounding the school...) Cozy Cottage had been built and named by Granny Violet’s early ancestors’ back in the 1800's. (Because the name obviously required so much thought...) Tiny kept the place clean and well stocked for it was very often that she spent a weekend alone in the cottage. (A twelve-year-old?) Well, not totally alone. She had the animals and the moon, which she talked to every night.

‘Maybe this weekend won’t be so bad,’ Tiny thought as she hummed a little tune from the play. She pulled the key necklace from under her shirt and unlocked the warm place that Tiny was beginning to think was her real home.

She went into the bedroom and began to unpack all though it wasn’t needed. Being a 12 year old she could fit some of Granny’s clothes from when she was a little girl herself and plus she always kept spares.

The bedroom was on(e) of the few rooms in the house but it was by far the fanciest. It had a wood frame bed with curtains that you could pull around you at night to keep out the ghosts, at least that was what Tiny use to think. There was a bureau with a mirror on top and there was a dresser. A nightstand was beside the bed with a gaslight and a porcelain doll standing sweetly on top. (On top of the gaslight? I sure hope not! And how does the get the gas for these things anyways? I think I meant *oil* when I wrote this... but then where does she get oil?)

Tiny grabbed her book (Anne of Green Gables to be exact) and walked into the front room. Since there had been only one bed and Granny Violet quite frequently received visitors she had seven lofts hung neatly at the top of the four walls. Each one was complete with a pillow and blanket. There was a couch and an armchair, each decorated with a bright blue, burgundy cloth. (That’s right, it’s bright blue and burgundy at the same time.) The stone fireplace stood against the far wall, which in the birth of this place had been a ‘new fangled invention’. (Okay, fire places were never ‘new fangled inventions’...) The hard wood floor had a very elaborate rug which Granny Violet’s sister had weaved for her when Granny was married. The rug was a garden full of flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The flowers reminded Tiny of people, the way they were all different.

The last room was the kitchen and dining room. Half of the room was lined with counters around the edges and another island counter in the middle. The counters had been added as a 50 Wedding Anniversary to Granny and her husband Grampy. The cabinets were filled with foods of all different varieties. The drawers were overfillling with utensils for cooking and eating. A cast iron stove stood alone in the corner of the room by the back door. Granny never had the heart to lose the ways of her ancestors so she never had the thing removed and an electric one put in. (She didn’t want to offend her deceased relatives by changing with the times...) In fact, there was no electricity in the whole house unless you count battery run objects. Same with water. You either pulled it up from the well or walked down to the brook and got some from there.

Back to the kitchen. The other half of the room was called the dining room. It had a wood table with more flowers carved into the backs of chairs and all around the edges of the table.

Tiny dropped the book into the chair and walked out the back door. She couldn’t help feeling proud. For four years she had taken care of the garden she now looked at by herself. The garden was the best part of Cozy Cottage. To add more zest to the garden the flowers and veggies were mixed together around the plot. (This makes no sense.) Two concrete benches stood gaily in betwixt the plants, waiting for someone to come and sit upon them so they could feel welcomed again. Some of the veggies, like the turnips, were ready to be harvested but Tiny had long ago decided to wait until everything the in the garden was ready so that everything would be harvested at once. (Again, doesn’t make sense; everything would die.)

“Looks like I’m on my own this week. This will be new. I’ve never stayed by myself for a whole week before,” Tiny nervously said aloud. The she dismissed the thought from her mind. “I will be brave like a tiger,” she said to a passing caterpillar. “I know, I’ll read outside. I’ll probably be cooped up all day tomorrow anyway. What was that poem? Oh yeah; Red at night and gray at day sends a traveler on his way, gray at night and at day red will bring the rain upon his head. Will you watch the sunset with me?” she asked a ladybug that landed on a rose.

‘I must be going loony,’ she thought and decided she better get practicing her lines. Maybe if she knew hers better then she could help Chris with his.

“I oughtn’t be practicing school work on vacation but I do so love to act,” she said to a picture of Granny Violet that hung over the doorway, looking out into the garden which was so full of life. She pulled the bookbag out from under the bed where it had been carelessly tossed. (Okay, we jumped scenes.) She laughed a sad sort of laugh as she pulled a book that her Aunt Autumn had given her also from under the bed.

“Let’s face it. I need a friend. (I’ll say.) Tomorrow I’ll go back to the school building and see if any body is looking for a place to stay. Otherwise I think I will be put in an asylum and my friends will never see me again. Who am I kidding? I have not ever had any friends,” she said to a tulip that gave a sympathetic ear as she sat down on one of the benches. But not ever a flower could understand her troubles for flowers never felt alone because they were always in clusters, bouquets or gardens.

And so the last few hours of remaining day light were spent in the garden where all bugs, birds and blooms listened to the young acterss practice what would someday hopefully bring her stardom. It wasn’t necessarily the fame that Tiny liked about performing. It was pretending to be someone else, to get inside their head and do what they would do in a possible situation. To have people listening, hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth and getting the audience to feel that they too were right along beside that character, whatever their story may be.

As the sun set far away in the land of happiness a gray sky was clearly visible. Tiny granted goodnight to all her plant friends and went inside to complete darkness. Luckily she knew her way around by heart and instantly retrieved a candle and box of matches. Everything at night was done by either candle or gaslamp. But this did no bother Tiny, for it gave a kind of romantic, old fashioned air to the house that had long since been forgotten in other households around America. (Don’t you have to know about something to forget it? And why would other households know about Cozy Cottage?)

The excitement of wandering the woods the next day, pretending to be a damsel in distress gave Tiny a minuscule glimpse of hope that maybe the long awaited vacation from the dreaded school might not be wasted after all.

“Hmmm. On ze menus tozay wesu havin’ spesgettis and meazballse,” she said to her imaginary restaurant full of people, waiting for her to prepare another wondrous meal. You can see why her mother signed her up for acting school and why she was immediately accepted. (Because she had an active imagination? That doesn’t mean you have acting talent.) Not only did she carry with her a kind of radiant glow that cheered everyone in the room, (what?) she also had a whole world of imagining to herself. Her ability to put herself in other people’s shoes was quite amazing to anyone but herself. She knew that it was only trying to be somebody special that made it so easy to pretend. After all, at school she was definitely the least popular by far. But she also felt she had no home to go to. Her parents rarely had enough time to bring her home for vacation. Her parents didn’t (k)now about the cottage. Where did they think she would stay for an entire week by herself? In a hotel? She didn’t have any money. What about food? (Someone needs to call CPS; that is child neglect!)

‘This is a week for happy thoughts. If you are a bad thought please leave at once and don’t come back until I’m sitting in school again,’ she thought in her head.

The night was very uneventful. Besides dinner nothing else happened. No TV occupied this cottage, only a small radio with a built in CD player. (That is apparently run on batteries since there is no electricity, batteries Tiny buys with the money she doesn’t possess.) This was to help get Tiny to sleep on very exciting nights, which cannot be classified as. And so Tiny drifted lazily off to sleep dreaming of fairies and gnomes and leprechauns. The only sound was the romantic trickle of the brook and the low hum of the wind rushing madly through the trees bowing branches. The moon smiled down on the twelve-year-old girl who had so much before her in life, if only she ever knew.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning Tiny did not wake up to the sun streaming through the Windows as she had hoped but to the rhythmic pit-pat of rain on the roof.

“Brings the rain upon his head,” she sighed as she climbed out of bed. (what?) She would have loved to have slept in one of the seven lofts but unless someone was with you it was a frightening thing to do. So high up off the ground with no one there to chat with and take your mind off it.

She slipped into jeans and a t. shirt and pulled a brush out of the drawer located in the dresser. The mirror proved what she dreaded, morning hair. She brushed the top half in to pony tail and let the rest down. Covering the whole golden brown mass up with a bandana she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her all time dream was to someday look in the mirror and see somebody besides the girl in a purple shirt, purple bandana and freckles across the bridge of her nose. (Why doesn’t she just change out of purple clothes then?) Some dreams come true and others are foolish, Tiny knew this and remembered it well as she grabbed a granola bar and a blue jean jacket.

She had wanted to have a nice walk to the school so she could happily meet anybody there with a smile. But a rainy day was just as good for people needed her help if they were lost at school in a storm. (Why would people be at school during Spring Break? If they’re there, they probably have a reason and aren’t lost.) That was worse than being lost in the forest. This morning no bugs crawled along the path as she walked sheltered only by the canopy trees. To Tiny though the rain was not something to dread but some miraculous thing from nature. Just think of it, water falling from the sky. (Oh my gosh. Can you believe it?!? WATER falling from the SKY. It’s a miracle!!)

The tall building loomed up out from the trees and Tiny felt like turning back. The point of vacation was to get away from school, no(t) freely go to it. As she turned a bend in across the school grounds she was positive she caught a telltale sign of someone being there. Fresh footprints in the mud, definitely not something from yesterday when it had been dry as a bone. She rounded the corner of the building and she saw them. They seemed to have seen her too because they came straight for her. There were two guys and a girl all seeming to be about her age, give or take a few.

The girl looked at her, “Hi. I’m Cara and this is Brendan and Eric. We were wondering if you could tell us where Alexandrina (it says “Alexandria” on the printed page, but I went back and crossed out the end and changed it to “Alexandrina”. Why? Lord only knows. I did that throughout the rest of the story, but I’ll go ahead and type it the way it was changed to. ) Cummings is,” the girl asked as she looked around. The boys were looking around too.

“Who wants to know,” Tiny asked a little harsher than she had meant. (Little snort)

“Well I had a Grandmother who recently passed away. She knew a girl named Alexandrina and in the last letter she wrote to our parents she said that she left the cottage to the girl but that there were a few things for me and my cousin Brendan. We would just like to see the cottage where we heard so many stories take place and claim our things,” the girl, Cara, explained.

“Come with me,” Tiny said in a calm voice, hiding her excitement. Were these the grandchildren that Granny Violet had told her about?

It started to sprinkle again as soon as they were under the trees, but yet again the trees provided shelter. Sooner than it had taken Tiny to get to school that morning they were at the cottage. Brendan and Cara seemed mystified and even the third boy Eric looked rather amazed.

“Have a seat,” Tiny pointed to the couch and chairs. Tiny pulled a chair from the kitchen table and took a seat.

“Well? Do you know where Alexandrina is?” Eric asked, starting to get somewhat impatient. Had they come out here for nothing? (Okay, this boy is apparently a total IDIOT.)

“I am Alexandrina,” Tiny spoke as if she could barely say it. She had never been called Alexandrina (thank God) except in official documents or by the snobby teacher Mrs Wegeter.

This time Brendan spoke up, “I’m Brendan Baker and this is Cara DeLizia and Eric von Detten. (You sure better recognize those names, hahaahaha!) We are from Hollywood. We’re actors. Well, Cara is an actress,” (thanks for the clarification...) he said trying to make Alexandrina feel more at ease.

“If I ever watched TV I would probably know who you are but here isn’t a TV here. If ya’ll (I misspelled y’all...) are actorses, that is what I call both actors and actresses (what the heck?), you best get away from the school. The school is for acting and any actorses would be ashamed at how boring they make acting seem,” Alexandrina said feeling more comfortable around the strangers.

“If you don’t mind me saying this you don’t exactly look like and Alexandrina,” (does anyone?) Brendan said feeling totally comfortable now that the wall was broken. (What broke the wall?) Cara gave him a nudge and he shot an innocent look.

Tiny laughed, “That’s because I’m not. (Technically, you are) When I was born Granny Violet said that was too big a name for such a tiny girl. (Wait, but Granny Violet lives near the school that Tiny has only been going to for four years, so how did Granny Violet know her as a baby?) So they called me Tiny even though that is not my official name. So just call me Tiny or else I feel like I am in court ‘cause they always call you your legal name in court (yeah, she would know),” Tiny smiled. “Would anybody like something to eat or drink? It’s almost lunchtime. You are welcome to stay.”

Cara nodded, “We would love to. By the way, Granny said that she left you some boxes.” Tiny seemed to remember and held up a finger signaling hold on a sec. She dashed in to bedroom and retrieved two boxes from the dresser.

“Granny said she wished she could have left you more,” Tiny remember from that awful day. Cara opened her box first. It contained a small ruby heard shaped necklace with tiny diamonds all around it. Cara smiled with delight as she fastened the catch around her neck.

“I have one to. Granny Violet gave it to me as a birthday present when I turned five,” Tiny told Cara as she pulled an almost identical necklace out from under her shirt. (Well sure, take away the specialness of the gift her dead grandma gave her!) The only difference was that instead of being a ruby heart there was a blue sapphire.

Brendan opened his box and pulled out 8 tickets to Africa and a toy tiger. (What the heck kind of ‘after I’m dead’ gift is that? Apparently Granny Violet went shopping for the gifts she would leave them when she died). He smiled as he explained the items, “When I was little I always told Granny that someday I would go to Africa and catch tigers.”

Lunchtime was decided when a bombard of growling stomachs broke out. Tiny showed them into the kitchen where they all together put together a sandwich bar and other varieties of food items (that sentence is all kinds of weird...).

“Too bad it isn’t sunny so we could have a picnic in the garden,” Tiny sighed. But the sun streamed through the window proving Tiny wrong. (uh huh) So the lunch was piled in to baskets and carried outside.

“Would you like lemonade?” Tiny asked grabbing a bucket. Eric was the first to nod his head. It had been ages since the three had had lemonade. The bucket was filled at the brook with fresh and clear water and carried back to the cottage.

“How come you didn’t just get water from the house?” Eric questioned.

“Because the house had neither running water nor electricity. I get all my water from the well on rainy days or the brook on sunny days. At night I see by either gaslamp or candle. It actually isn’t a bad way to live,” Tiny assured her guests.

The four kids ate among the flowers on the benches and Tiny could have sworn the benches were very proud looking. (You know, those expressionate stone pieces of furniture) Getting to know each other was really quite interesting. Tiny learned that Brendan was only a day older than her that Cara was 13 and that Eric was 14. The three had been acting together since Brendan had been 10. In return they learned that Tiny had been signed up for the boring acting school by her father and mother who barely had any time for her (lol, I’m saying that enough times that it’s beginning to sound like a cry for help) and favored her brother (yep, definitely a cry for help...). Tiny had pretty much been raised by Mrs Stewert and Granny Violet having started this school when she was 4. (ah, I was wrong, she’s been here longer than four years).

After lunch was picked up Tiny took Cara, Brendan and Eric exploring through the woods. They pretended since it had been a while since Cara or Brendan had pretended without a script and Eric agreed with Tiny that you couldn’t make believe too much. Cara was a fairy while Tiny was a beautiful princess. Eric was a scaly green dragon that held her hostage. Brendan was Prince Charming and he had to save Tiny by fighting off the evil dragon, bringing peace to fairyland and saving Cara from the evil clutches of darkness. Even though Cara thought it a little ridiculous at first for kids of their age to be playing this kind of stuff she quickly forgot her doubt and thoroughly enjoyed her self.

And so the after noon went by in a blur of laughter. As dusk approached Tiny waved goodbye to her friends at the edge of the parking lot who had promised to come back the next day and stay the night. Tiny ate her supper of ravioli in a new and joyful way, knowing that she might have her first friends. (Make friends and you too can eat your ravioli in a new and joyful way!) As she fell asleep that night she had to turn the radio on so she could fall asleep. And as she drifted away in a land of fairies and goblins, she knew that maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. (Okay, small props to me for learning so young how to tie together seemingly insignificant details –like that she has to listen to the radio to get to sleep in exciting nights)

Obviously, my comments were tossed in there in italics. I wrote this in fifth grade, I believe, or possibly the summer after fifth grade.

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