“These were simple people who appreciated growing and raising their own food, and trading for things. They abhorred the materialistic, self-entitled city folk. This was one of the many grievances that the Rosae Crucis seemed to have with modern society.”
Tammy stopped her monologue for a second as she nodded ever so slightly. “I can’t fully disagree with them on that count.
“Anyway, I will skip ahead a bit. Apple trees take eight years to grow into fully producing trees, and the biggest memory Maddie had of her eighth birthday was that her parents knocked down the old house. They had had their first bumper crop. So, they tore down the tiny old structure that stood on the property and spent the next two years building their dream home. They also built the barn to house those dairy cows. You guys have already seen that it doubles as the garage for their larger equipment and vehicles as well.”
Tammy looked around the table. This was different yet at the same time comfortingly familiar for her. She was not used to seeing her audience, live, in front of her — but she was in her element. And her audience was captivated by her tale so far. Satisfied, she looked back at the book in her hand.
“The first indications that Maddie had of her family’s connection to the Rosae Crucis happened around that time as well. She was even introduced to some of them. Maddie was still too young to really understand who these people were and what they represented, however.
“That came a few years later, when a twelve-year-old Maddie got home from school one day and asked her mom about it.”
Chapter 33
Maddie’s story
Maddie flew down the steps of the school bus and ran. The familiar driveway rushed past her as she ran towards the proud-looking farmhouse. “Momma?” she called, dropping her school bag in one smooth motion as she ran into the house.
“Shoes, Maddie!”
The warning came from the laundry room. It was a rule at the Jeffersons household. Maddie quickly backtracked to the front door and pulled off her boots, placing them on the rough bristle mat. She glanced at the tracks she’d made, biting her lip in consternation. Her eyes lit up with an idea, and she quickly rubbed the dirt away with her socks before continuing towards the laundry room.
“Momma!” she called as she saw her mom.
Maddie’s mom was a tall woman. Her long blonde hair, which included the occasional silver-gray strand, was tied in a practical ponytail as the woman folded the laundry from the dryer, placing the items into a large basket. Her back was still turned to her daughter as she focused on her task.
Maddie ran up and hugged her mom, forgetting what was on her mind for a moment. “Hi, Momma.”
Maddie’s mom turned around to return the hug with a sigh. The smile playing across her face indicated that she was far from frustrated, though.
“Hi, dear.” She stroked the light curly hair on her daughter’s head, enjoying the feel of the tight ringlets catching her fingers. “Where is your brother?” she continued as they separated.
Maddie showed her teeth as she grimaced slightly.
“Did you run home without him? Maddie, what did I tell you about leaving your brother behind?”
“He was walking too slow...” The excuse felt weak to Maddie, although it was often true.
“He’s seven years old, dear.” Her mother added with a pleasant smile, “And not the whirlwind you are,”
“I am a whirlwind,” Maddie announced proudly. She turned serious as she remembered why she’d rushed home. “Momma... I argued with Miss Thomas again today.” Her face dropped as she remembered the incident.
“Oh, Maddie.” Her mom looked at her sternly. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk about our beliefs?” Seeing her daughter’s face drop even more made her expression soften into a sad smile. “Lots of people don’t want to hear the truth. They’re different than us, Maddie.”
Maddie started crying. “She called me meddlesome. And then Sarah and all the other girls started calling me Meddlesome Maddie!”
“Oh, dear.”
Maddie’s mom wrapped her up in a hug. She held her daughter as the young girl sobbed. Maddie was a strong girl; she stopped crying almost immediately. Maddie’s mom held her at arm’s length and could see the spark of defiance in her daughter’s eyes. She smiled.
“You’re not Meddlesome Maddie. You are Mettlesome Maddie,” she said proudly.
Maddie’s expression betrayed her confusion. Her mom laughed. A light, melodic laugh that always stirred special feelings in the young girl. Especially when it was mixed with her dad’s booming, throaty laughter.
“Mettlesome is another word for brave. For spirited, and spunky. That’s what you are, Maddie. Mettlesome.” She looked at her daughter with a proud smile.
Maddie’s face lit up; her tears forgotten. She flew into her mom’s arms for another embrace. They heard the front door open again as Maddie’s little brother entered the house, yelling for his mom. The girl and her mother ignored his call and held on to each other for a few more moments.
TAMMY LOOKED UP FROM the diary. Michelle and Abi had gotten the potatoes into the oven and were preparing steaks in the kitchen, but their attention was on Tammy. As was everybody else’s.
“I wanted to read that out to you, so you’d have an idea about what kind of person Maddie was.”
“She learned more about the Rosae Crucis and wrote a lot of it down. Here are a few things that I found out.”
She put the diary down for a moment, going by memory.
“Maddie wrote about agreeing with a lot of the morals of the Rosae Crucis. From what I gleaned, the order is heavily focused on respecting nature and abhors the misuse and pollution of natural environments.”
She looked up at those gathered around the table.
“That all sounds fine, but then it gets a bit out there. I
