Object With Your Name On it 3-20-22

The Bottle in the Sand

By: Carrie Keiser

As Orla walked along the beautiful beach with the Irish Sea crashing into the sand on her left near Wicklow, Ireland, contemplating her upcoming wedding to her long-time beau, Killian, a flash of sunlight glinted off something poking out of the sand. The last few weeks had been tough, she knew this was the right decision but her patience was being tested.  She knew she needed to let some things go and have faith in God that all would work out. These and other thoughts were running through her brain as she walked toward the object.

She reached down into the sand to discover that it was a half buried bottle. Orla worked diligently to get the bottle out. Finally, it came free. She could see that it was stoppered and it looked like a letter was inside.  Studying the bottle, Orla surmised that it was a very old bottle indeed. She wondered if she opened the bottle, would the the paper be soft and pliable or brittle and fall apart in her hands before she could find out what might be written on it.

Carefully, she dusted off all the sand and walked to a nearby fallen tree to sit.  With shaking hands, she worked at the stopper and eventually got it to come loose.  A nervous laugh escaped her lips and she was thankful that she was the only one on the beach that day.  Orla tipped the bottle over and slowly, as if time had come to a near stop, the paper fell into her outstretched hand. 

She was a bundle of nerves and excitement. Wondering how long this note had lay inside the bottle? Who was it for? Where had it come from? So many new questions ran across her mind pushing her earlier worries about Killian right out. The paper, no parchment, was indeed supple, and she gently rolled it open.

Surprise hit her, like a punch to the gut, as she began to read the letter:

“March 18th, 1886  

Wexford, Ireland

The Irish Sea

My dearest Orla,”

Orla checked the date again…. 1886! Today was March the 18th 2022, 136 years later! What an amazing find. How odd that the letter is addressed to Orla.  Orla had never known someone to have her name let alone ever thought she would come across anything with her name on it. The letter intrigued her and her eyes fell back on the beautiful handwriting. No one wrote like that today, people hardly wrote in longhand these days. 

Orla read the letter:

“March 18th, 1886

Wexford, Ireland

The Irish Sea

My dearest Orla, 

The beat of my heart and focus of my mind have been on you these last weeks while I travel aboard this lonely ship. I know the ship is busy with the crew and we are about to take on a fresh load, but without you I feel empty and alone amid the bustle of this loading cutter. 

I shall soon return to you and our much anticipated wedding day!  Oh! how my heart longs for this run to be behind me and our day upon us!”

Orla’s shaking fingers were making reading the letter difficult.  This Orla was also about to get married and her intended was penning her a beautiful heart wrenching letter of love and longing.  A soft breeze played with Orla’s long red hair, sending strands across her face. She could feel the sea touching her and with her eyes closed, pictured the young man, quill in hand, bent over quickly writing his words of love and devotion to his Orla. A look of concentration on his handsome face as he attempted to get his feelings out before the ship leaves for unknown shores. Sadness crosses his face, in her minds eye, as he knows he must sail in order to gain wages to provide for their future. 

Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, she returns to the letter:

“I see your face all around me and long to hold you in my arms once more. My thoughts are consumed with our future!  I have purchased a small farm from Padraig Flynn down near Ardmore in County Waterford. It is a beautiful area and has a small house included. The whole property is fenced in that low rock-wall style of fencing. 

Orla, I know it is kilometers away from your family, but it’s so beautiful and I feel we can be happy there. It’s not far from the sea, we can go there and walk on the beach together every Saturday afternoon. 

I was going to wait and tell you on our wedding day about this gift, but the excitement I feel cannot be contained! I pray you will love our new place as much as I love you!”

Orla is taken aback, stunned! She has been to Ardmore and seen just such a place as this man is describing. A quaint little farm with a modest farmhouse and beautiful fertile fields surrounding it, all fenced off with a low rock wall fence.  Her grandfather had often talked of a family farm in that area and she had driven down one weekend trying to located it, thinking his age had been taking over. It is such a beautiful area. Orla thought she really should take Killian down to see it.  They could maybe move there one day. Walk the beaches on Saturdays as the writer of this letter desired to do with his love.

He writes as if his Orla is standing right next to him. She can feel his excitement, almost see his face and hear his voice as he describes their new home to her. 

Orla turns her attention once more to the letter lying in her hands, scans the words and picks up reading:

“I hear the foreman, he says the ship will be ready to sail in an hour. I must close this letter, my love. I should hurry to post it, but I fear I will miss the sailing and never make it back to you! I have procured a bottle and a tight stopper.  I shall roll this letter up, seal it in the bottle and send it to you by way of the sea!  I hope it is swift in it’s sail to you, dearest Orla, owner of my heart. 

All my love and forever yours,

Killian Shea”

Once again Orla cannot believe her eyes! The writer of this letter is Killian, not her Killian, his last name is Ryan. She exhales loudly and drops her head, staring at the sand and the wonder of this day. 

One hundred thirty-six years ago, two young lovers with the same names as she and her fiancé were perhaps here on this very beach walking hand in hand making plans for their future like she and Killian had done.  If this wasn’t her sign that all would be well she didn’t know what was.  

Carefully, Orla rolled the letter up and slid it back into the bottle. She retrieved the stopper and worked at replacing it as well.  She hugged the bottle to her like it was a baby, ever so fragile and needing protecting, she traced her steps back to her car and climbed inside. She has never been more sure of her decisions as she was in that moment.

Orla placed the precious find, on the passenger seat and wrapped it up in her hoodie. She couldn’t wait to get back to Killian and show him what she had found.  

As Orla put the car in gear and prepared to return to the house, her mind set on the Orla and Killian in the letter. She wondered if Orla and Killian had married and how their life had turned out in Ardmore. She would look them up when she took her Killian to see the farm there.  She eased out into traffic leaving the beach behind her and heading straight into her future.

Story slingers Prompt

Your character finds something with his/her name on it

March 20, 2022

Daren Flynn

By Any Other Name

Harold Lloyd Jenkins was an aspiring singer/song writer who thought he needed a more memorable name if he was to make it big in the world of Music. He wracked his brain day and night hoping for inspiration but nothing came to mind. Then, according to Fred Bronson, one day he "was looking at a road map when he spotted Conway, Arkansas and Twitty, Texas and chose the name Conway Twitty"by which he was thereafter known. He went on to have a successful career and recorded 50 number one hit songs.

Now let's speculate. What if Harold Lloyd Jenkins, when he looked at that map, had seen Hardy, Arkansas and Turkey, Texas and had chosen Hardy Turkey for his stage name.

Would his music career have been equally successful?

If a rose by any other name is still a rose, as Shakespeare said, is a successful singer by any other name still a successful singer?

What do you think?

Story Slingers

March 20, 2022

Myrna Flynn

FOR GOODNESS SAKE FIND A NAMESAKE

I was bemoaning another challenge my siblings, with normal names: Martin, Sean, Julie set upon me, to find my name. My name is, in my opinion, is a very pretty name, but probably impossible to find.

Being the baby of the family always made me the victim of all their tortures. They knew that I would not give in and go whining to mom and dad. I would somehow accomplish this latest one.

I texted my three best friends and asked them to meet me at our usual hangout. I explained what my nemeses had dreamed up this go around: to find a person or an item with my name on it.

they decoded to join the search. They would look for their names and mine. At least my parents did not stick me with the less desirable names my 3 friends were shackled with: Hortense, Opthella, and Nathilda. (Mine is Marcellita.)

Why don't some parents think before they name their children? Maybe the names they gave theirs were popular in the times of their grandparents or the notorious 1960's, but are albatrosses around my buddies necks today. Mine is not.

I have checked jewelry store ID bracelets, truck stop key rings, name tags on servers at restaurants and countless other places and have not come across it. My friends have not ever tried to find theirs.

My brothers and sister did not specify that I had to use my whole name, so we decided to use our nicknames: Marcie, Tenny, Lea, and Natty. We set a route to search. Since Hortense had the best chance to find her given name, we started the search at rest homes, assisted living and with hospice. It was a good choice. Hortense found her namesake at the 3rd one.

Next we headed to jewelry stores. We found an ID bracelet at Harrison's with Leah on it, which is a whole name. If nothing else shows up, we will call it "close enough". Truck stops proved fruitless.

We were getting hungry. It was time to take a lunch break. Walking up and down streets burns a lot of calories. Surely some employee would have a name tag with one of our names. We strolled along looking at posted menus and peering through windows, reading what names we could see. Finally we decided on Bob and Mary's Diner. That was where a lot of teenagers worked. Maybe one of them would have a Natty or Marcie.

The first tag we saw read, "Natty". Three down and only mine to go. No luck, and I thought mine would show up first. Oh well. There are a few places we have not looked yet. There is still time before closing, the the "sidewalks are rolled up for the night" in our small town.

One place we had not gone yet were the garages, service stations and car dealers. Not too likely to be anyone there called Marcie, but no stone unturned, the closest was Barry's.

There was a new sales lady. She did not have a name tag, but she did something better. She walked up and introduced herself as Marcie Malone.

I had a hard time not jumping up and shouting, My siblings were foiled again! I was able to return home in triumph. Not only had we found my name, but my friends had found their also.

Okay, maybe we stretched it a little, but what can I say? Nicknames are the names we go by.

I wonder what Martin, Sean and Julie will contrive next to try to drive the baby of the family bonkers? Hummm?