𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 -𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎 '𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎' 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

Chapter 3

Christmas morning
          I wake up to the girls yelling my name.
         I look over and see Jo on the couch where she writes. She must've fallen asleep there. I get up and get ready. I put on a plaid dress that has decorative buttons on the chest.
        It was a gift from Aunt March. After I am done, I poke Jo's cheek. She wakes up slowly.
      I start brushing my hair and she looks out the window.
      "Merry Christmas, world." She mutters to herself.
        I put on my locket as she wraps a blanket around herself and goes downstairs. I follow. The girls all look up at us, delighted that we could make it.
         "We've been up for hours!" Meg exclaims.
          "What have you been writing?"Beth asks.
   Jo clomps down on the stairs,pieces of paper that have been written on, in her hand.
          "I got carried away with our delicious revenge play last night. Poison!" Jo exclaims.
        "No. No poison. It's Christmas!" Amy denies.
         "It won't be Christmas without presents." Jo complains.
         "It's so dreadful to be poor." Meg complains too.
        "I don't think it's fair for some girls to have lots of pretty things and other girls nothing at all." Amy agrees.
       "At least we have father and mother and each other." Beth says gratefully.
         "We haven't got father. And we won't have him for as long as this war drags on." Jo says glumly.
         I groan, " Do you guys hear yourselves? Everyone, except Beth, needs to stop being such Debby downers. It's ruining my mood."
          They all roll their eyes at my dramatics. I get out of the chair and lay on the ground. My back regaining its comfort.
            Meg puts down her sewing, "I wish I had heaps of money and plenty of servants, so I'd never need to work again."
            "You could be a proper actress on the boards!" Exclaims Jo.
         "I can't be an actress." Meg says but looks happy about the the compliment.
        "They aren't all fallen women." Jo tries to convince Meg.
           "What about you, Mary? What do you wanna be?" Beth asks, noticing I've been quiet.
           I sit up. I try to think about my reply but Jo cuts me off.
          "Oh please. Mary can be anything she wants. She is good enough to be a painter, a dancer, a musician, a house wife, or even a writer." Jo lists. "I've read her work. It's not bad."
          I blush and lay back down on the floor. I never knew that Jo has read what I've wrote.
          "I have lots of wishes, but my favorite one is to be an artist and go to Paris and do fine pictures and be the best painter in the world." Amy says, dreamily.
         Beth cuddles up to Jo on the couch,"That's what you want too, isn't it Jo? To be a famous writer?"
"Yes, but it sounds so crass when she says it." Jo comments.
"Why be ashamed of what you want?" Questions Amy.
"I'm not!" Yells Jo.
  "My wish is to have us all to be together with Father and Mother in this house - that's what I want." Beth says.
She's always been the best of us. She's the obvious choice for any man if she wasn't so shy.
Amy mutters under her breath, "Beth is perfect."
"What about your music, Queen Bess?" Asks Jo.
Beth blushes, "I only do that for us, I don't need anyone else to hear it."
I turn to the couch where she's sitting, "oh come on, Bethy. You're music is so good and you're so talented. I'm sure the world would love to hear it."
Amy is trying to shape her nose in the mirror, "You must not limit yourself."
Meg stands up, "Mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas because our men are suffering in the army. We can't do much, but we should make our little sacrifices and do it gladly."
Jo picks up a pillow, "Don't play mother just because she's not home."
Jo throws the pillow at Meg, it hits her squarely in the face.
  "Don't Jo; it's so boyish." Amy says rudely.
This time I throw a pillow at Amy. She can be so annoying at times. It bounces off of Amy and hits Beth on the leg since they're sitting next to each other.
"That's why we do it." Jo says, speaking for me and her.
"I detest rude, unlady-like girls." Amy says disdainfully.
"I hate affected little chits!" Jo yells back.
Jo and I share a look. We both tackle Amy and Beth. We end up pulling Meg to the floor too.
We play fight while Amy shouts, "watch my nose! My nose! It's already no good!"
"I know you don't care what I think, but you don't want your mother to find you like this, do you?" Hannah says while standing at the entryway to the living room.
Hannah is basically our grandmother. She's a good-natured woman. She's more family than half of our family. We all get up and go over to her.
Meg kisses her cheek, "of course, we care what you think."
Jo hugs her other side, "you're more family than wicked Aunt Marge."
"Oh come on, Jo. Aunt Marge isn't that bad." I say as I hug Hannah.
"You're just saying that cause she loves you!" Jo sticks out her tongue.
"Where is Marmee?" Amy asks.
"Goodness only knows. Some poor creature came a-beggin', and your ma went straight off to see what was needed." Hannah tells us.
"I wish she could help other people at a time that is convenient for us." Jo says.
Beth holds her doll, "Joanna and I are very hungry."
"Dolls don't get hungry, Beth." Amy says rudely again.
"Now, now. Joanna is just as important as you, Amy." I say with a glare.
"Just because you're like 2 years older than me doesn't mean you can be rude." Amy says.
"Just because you're 2 years younger than me doesn't mean you have to be a brat!" I argue.
Amy huffs and turns away from me, clearly upset at me. Beth smiles at me.
Jo holds up the pages of the play, "I've re-written the climax and we need to set it to memory. Amy, get the costumes!"
"I've made a DIVINE hat, and
painted those old shoes blue, so she truly looks like a princess." Says Amy, taking out the costumes.
"I think the melancholy piece I've figured out is pretty good." Informs Beth.
Beth goes to the piano and Jo hands out the new pages. I have a singing and dancing part.
" Mary, figure out the choreography for the ending. Meg, wait until you see this new speech!" Jo exclaims.
Beth marvels at the pages, "I don't see how you can write such splendid things, Jo! You're a regular Shakespeare."
"Not quite. And hey, Mary did help me with some of it." Jo says then turns to Amy, "Miss Michelangelo, can you please rehearse the fainting scene?"
Amy tried to faint but it's no good.
"You're as stiff as a poker in that." Jo tells her.
"I can't help it! I never saw anyone faint and I don't choose to make myself all black and blue. If I can go down easily, I'll drop. If I can't, I shall fall into a chair and be graceful; I don't care if Hugo does come at me with a pistol." Amy almost starts yelling.
Amy falls into a chair with a huff, and Jo turns to Hannah, "Hannah..."
Hannah looks at Jo, already knowing what she's gonna say, "I'm not acting."
"I didn't even say anything!" Jo argues.
"I knew what you were going to say and I'm not acting," Hannah says, not giving Jo a second glance.
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       Marmee walks in through the door, "Merry Christmas, girls!"
       We all shriek and crowd around her.
       "I'm so glad to see you so happy." Marmee says wrapping her arms around us as much as she could.
       "Mother! Are you freezing? Come have some tea." Joe takes care of Marmee.
      "We finished the sewing!" Meg exclaims.
      "Hannah and I made these cakes." Beth said sweetly.
       "I practiced my dance. I hope you like it!" I tell her.
       "Wait until you see my portrait." Amy says.
      We all clearly worship our mother. As she's talking, we follow her into the kitchen.
       "Jo, you look tired - were you up again all night writing? Amy, come kiss me! How are my girls?" She asks is all.
        "I'm so hungry!"Beth tells Marmee.
         "I could eat a horse." Jo says.
        "Stop it, Jo." Amy scolds.
       "Stop it, Amy." I mock.
        She glares at me. I laugh which makes her crack a smile.
     "Look at this breakfast!" Meg happily sighs.
     We look at Marmee, expectantly.
     "What?" Asks Jo.
    "What is it?" I ask.
    "Not far from here lives a poor young woman, Mrs. Hummel. Her five children are in one bed to keep from freezing, and there is nothing to eat. My girls, will you give them your breakfast as a Christmas present?" Marmee asks.
       I look at our breakfast. I know what the right thing is to do but-   No. No buts. Mother is right. This is a good thing.
       "Is this where you say father would want us too?" Beth asks.
         I laugh as Marmee says, "Yes."
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