A Little Princess Again (ALPA)
Ch 1: Melchisedec
Sara sat cross-legged on the small attic floor, the dim light of late afternoon slanting through the small window. Mr. Carrisford’s attic was only a small space at the top of a ladder because the uppermost rooms had been turned into the flower tower for Sara and her friends. She had asked to keep this one simple space, partly because it was still where she met with Melchisedec, and partly because she liked to remember her past hardships. “It is good for me not to forget,” she had said to Mr. Carrisford, her guardian, one evening during their nightly armchair talks. Mr. Carrisford was not so sure, but he lived to please his little princess and let it be as she wished.
Sara fed a piece of bread to Melchisedec who twitched his whiskers and nibbled at the treat. Her rat friend had found her soon enough after she had moved to the other side of the wall, and she had been relieved to see him, not wanting to leave anyone behind when she was again swept up in good fortune and the diamond mines.
It had been Ram Dass’s idea to make a small hole behind the loose floorboard and unbeknownst to Sara he had left food up there every day. About a week after her move, she had remembered Melchisedec and Ram Dass brought her up to the small space. Sara tapped gently against the adjoining wall, and soon enough, a tiny nose had poked through, followed by clever little paws. Now, whenever her life felt a little too full, she retreated to the small attic.
Melchisedec finished his treat and scurried back to his hole.
A voice at the opening in the floor interrupted the quiet moment.
“Miss Sara?” Becky’s head appeared, her dark curls bobbing as she peered around. “It’s time for tea.”
“Tea sounds wonderful, Becky.”
A long, drawn-out whine echoed from below, and Sara laughed.
“Boris doesn’t like it that he can’t climb the ladder,” Becky said, grinning.
Sara stood with her body bent over and dusted off her skirts. “It is rather steep. Goodbye, Melchisedec.”
As she descended, Boris, her large Russian mastiff, wagged his tail and let out another low whine. His large paws shuffled uncertainly at the base of the ladder.
“Oh, Boris, you silly boy, I am right here,” Sara said fondly, rubbing behind his ears as she reached the bottom. “We shall have to get Ram Dass to carry you up one day.”
Becky giggled. “I’d like to see that.”
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