Chapter 4

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As soon as Uncle Samuel put their new mirror and groceries in the cabin, he took Charlotte by the arm and led her into the prairie. She figured he would sit her down in the sun-drenched grass for some fresh air as he had done before, but instead, he walked with her further out into the prairie than she'd been before, towards a grove of old oak trees.

"Where are we going?" she asked, holding onto him. She struggled to walk too far before she became breathless and shaky.

"That's part of the surprise. It won't be far, just by those trees yonder."

She enjoyed walking in the prairie, though it was difficult. She closed her eyes as her uncle led her, facing the great bowl of the sky and letting the sun warm her face. The breeze mussed her hair, dark and rich as varnished hickory.

Now that she was out of town, away from sight, she felt much better. She could relax somewhat. The crinkling, dry grass beneath her boots was a new sound to her, much different than the click-clacking across bricks and cobblestones. As they approached the trees, she was impressed by their massive size.

Their boughs were so thick, mighty, and green, they groaned as they swayed in the wind. The leaves rustled as if whispering secrets to each other. Then, she heard something else, something gentle and consistent.

And then she saw it beyond the trees: a beautiful little stream, not very deep, dotted with moss-covered rocks, a few logs, and dappled sunlight. It was such an attractive sight to Charlotte, like something straight out of a painting. It was serene, and the air was especially cool near the water, making everything dewy.

She had never seen a place like this in person. Her life until this point had mostly been tall brick buildings, stale puddles in the street, and factory smoke. Though there was the Mississippi River that ran through Minneapolis, it was always so overrun with barges and smog and trash that there was hardly any way to enjoy it.

"I knew you'd like this place," said her uncle, seeing how pleased she was once they got to the bank of the river. They sat on a log near the stream's edge, where they could see a few small fish swimming around. "Almost forgot this place was here. Me and your Pa used to fish here when we was younger. And that brings me to my next surprise."

From his pocket, he produced a wad of fishing twine. Charlotte's eyes lit up immediately, and she felt so pleased that she remembered a little fact about her: she adored fishing. She never told anyone about it and hadn't done it since she was a child in the old Mississippi River. Her father had told her time and time again that it wasn't a ladylike thing to do.

So, she had stopped, mostly, especially since there wasn't much opportunity in the city's river because the barges scared most of the fish away. "No need to tell your Pa about this," said Samuel, tying the twine around a thin, flexible branch he found nearby. "You know how he is." He had some hooks and bait, too, setting everything up before handing the makeshift pole to her.

Charlotte beamed at him. "Uncle, I'm so happy. I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say nothin'. I obviously got you out of your usual miseries, at least temporarily, and that's all I need. Remember how I used to take you fishin' a few times just outside the city? Didn't catch much, too much filth and runoff, but it was fun nonetheless, wasn't it? I remembered how you used to enjoy it, the calm of the water's sound, the simple waitin' for a bite. I figured this place was a sight more... picturesque. I figured, too, it'd calm your nerves some."

She smiled, taking the fishing pole, beholding its simplicity. Though they could have afforded a more stylish bamboo rod, she preferred this old twig one more. It reminded her of when she was a girl before she had so many fears.

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