[Preview] Angela and Her Pigmy Goat, Abe

Chapter 1. 1

Chapter 2. 11

Chapter 3. 21

Chapter 4. 36

Chapter 5. 48

Chapter 6. 61

Chapter 7. 75

Chapter 8.. 89

Chapter 9. 106

Chapter 10.. 118

Chapter 11. 129

Chapter 12. 142

Chapter 13. 156

Chapter 14. 170

Chapter 15. 185

Chapter 16. 198

Chapter 17. 207

Chapter 18.. 219

Chapter 19. 225

Chapter 20.. 239

Chapter 21. 249

Chapter 22 254

As the moving bus heads quickly towards Blowing Rock, a small rural town in North Carolina, Angela notices the scenery gradually transforming, and it drives home the fact that she made the right decision by moving away from the hustle and bustle of the city after her retirement. Tall buildings, shopping centers, and traffic give way to open fields and sprawling hills.

The road snakes through vivid farmlands, sprinkled with rows of crops and feeding cows and livestock. Angela sits in the passenger seat, her face plastered to the window, particularly so, when the bus passes by a beautiful village house with a smoky chimney, dogs barking in the fields, and children playing in the lawn.

“You’ve never been here before?”

Angela turns to the driver, Sean, her face a picture of excitement and thrill for her future in this town. “I have,” she says. “When I was a little girl. North Carolina has changed so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Good changes, I hope?”

“I hope so, too,” she sighs and leans back in the seat. “I’ll be here permanently.”

Sean knows the town so well, and as he navigates the road with ease, he occasionally points out familiar landmarks. “We’re almost at your home,” he says.

Angela cannot wait. They’ve been driving from the city for eight hours, and she cannot wait to see her new home and settle in. She retired six months ago as a librarian at Avalon High after working there for thirty years. With her entitlement, she bought a house in North Carolina so she could live out the rest of her days in peace.

It sounds melancholic because she is only fifty-five years old, but she is a realistic person and knows that with the kind of lonely life she lived, there weren't enough joys to keep her around for a long time.

“This is the town mall,” Sean says as they drive past a tan brick building that is only two stories high. There’s an outrageous sign at the front that says Blowing Rock Mall, and Angela nods as it winds out of view.

“There is the church,” Sean says, pointing to the cathedral down the road.

“Oh, I’m not religious,” she says, without looking. “But thank you.”

So far, Angela loves Blowing Rock and its unique charm. They drive past more brick buildings, local diners, a school, and several community centers with bulletin boards full of announcements. Outside her window, she watches the residents talk and laugh with each other, showcasing the close-knit community in the town.

It makes her wonder if she will be able to make friends here in North Carolina. After thirty years in the city, she had no one to call her friend. She has always been a little shy, with little to no social skills, and at fifty-five years old, it’s probably too late to learn. Who would want to be her friend now that she is of advanced age?

Finally, they arrive on a main street that is quiet and restful. There are a few cars parked along the sidewalks, and some locals are enjoying an evening stroll. “This is your street,” Sean says, and Angela sits up. Her home is number seven, and she presses her face to the window as the bus slows down in front of a picturesque one-story brick house.

Angela hurries out of the bus and up the front porch, shuffling through her bag for the house keys. There are two rocking chairs on the porch, and Angela chuckles, appreciating the nice touch. She imagines herself settling on it on a nice evening, with a glass of fruit wine as she watches the moon go down.

The interior of the house is cozy, reflecting a more country lifestyle than the exterior. There’s a large piece of overstuffed furniture in the living room, on which are scattered six throw pillows in different colors and designs. There are also a couple of armchairs arranged around a circular coffee table with a gloss wood finish.

Angela rushes to the fireplace, a smile on her face. With everything in the living room, she loves the fireplace the most. It’s made of stone, and it adds charm to the living room design.

“Can I come in?”

She turns to see Sean standing at the door, some of her luggage at his feet. “You have a beautiful home,” he says, looking around the place.

“Yes. Thank you. Please come in.”

“You said you bought it online,” he says, walking into the living room with her luggage. “That’s such a risk, but I’m glad it turned out okay.”

“What better time to take risks than at fifty-five years old, post-retirement?” Angela chuckles, making Sean laugh.

“I’ll bring in the rest of your things,” he says and leaves.

Angela decides to check out the rest of the house. She grew up in North Carolina until she was about thirteen years old before going to the city with her parents, where she lived the rest of her life. As fun as the city was, she never forgot the serenity of home, where there was no rush, and the quality of life was great. She always dreamed of returning home one day.

After her retirement, she was scrolling through the internet one day when she saw this house being advertised online. She admired the simplicity and beauty of it but became really attached when she realized it was located in North Carolina. She had her settlement chilling in her bank account, and after talking to the agent for several days, she paid for the house.

As Sean said, it was a risk. But she is glad it turned out okay.

Angela doesn’t cook much, but she loves the minimalist design of her new kitchen. The wooden cabinets, open shelves, and large farmhouse sink are tempting, and she randomly thinks about all the food she can cook here. But it’s only a thought; she doubts she will actually go through with it.

Angela hears moments in the living room and drifts outside to see Sean moving her things into the living room. Although she has paid him for his service, she decides to lend a helping hand. She doesn’t have many items because the house is fully furnished, so in an hour, she and Sean have finished moving.

“Would you like to rest a bit?” She offers when they’re done.

“Thank you,” Sean says. “But I should get going. It’s a long way back to the station.”

“You aren’t returning to the city tonight, are you?”

“No,” he laughs, climbing down the porch. “The station is here in North Carolina, about thirty minutes from here. I’ll leave for the city in the morning.”

“Okay.” After eight hours in a moving bus with him, Angela is sorry to see Sean leave. “Thank you for everything, Sean. Safe drive.”

“And you, too.” Sean waves. “I wish you the best of luck. I hope you enjoy your stay in Blowing Rock.”

“I hope so, too.” Angela remains on the porch, waving until Sean is out of sight before returning to the house.

The silence is deafening, and it’s like she can hear her heartbeat. She’s used to loneliness, but in the city, there was never silence. Cars were constantly zooming down the road; there was always chatter outside the window, so the presence of people could be felt, even if not seen.

Here, it’s different. As she walks to the pile of boxes, her doorsteps echo around her. She fishes through the pile until she finds her bedding and pillows. She hasn’t had time to check the bedrooms, and she excitedly hurries down the hall.

It’s a four-bedroom house, and she checks each one until she reaches the master bedroom. It overlooks a wide backyard, and by the time she plants flowers there, it will be a wonderful view. The bedroom itself has a large, cozy bed covered in a simple patchwork blanket. Angela snatches the blanket off and casts it to the ground before spreading her sheet on it. She sets the pillows down and fluffs them before taking a step back to admire the rest of the room.

It’s a large room, but the furniture is sparse, unlike the plentiful designs in the living room. For the next few hours, Angela shuffles back and forth up and down the hall, offloading her boxes and adding personal touches to the house.

She's in her room later that evening when there’s a knock on the door. Surprised, she walks up the hall and into the living room to peek through the eyehole of the door. There’s a blonde woman outside, a sweet smile on her face. She looks young, like she’s in her early forties, and beside her is a little girl of about ten years holding a covered tray. Angela figures it’s the neighbor and immediately opens the door.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” the woman greets charmingly. “Good evening. I’m Evelyn. This is my daughter, Mara.”

“Good evening, ma’am,” Mara greets warmly. “You’re welcome to Blowing Rock.”

“Oh, she’s such a sweet child.” Angela reaches out to pat Mara’s cheek. “Thank you, Mara. My name is Angela.”

“I’m your next neighbor,” Evelyn says, pointing to the two-storey building beside Angela’s. “I saw you move in and just wanted to welcome you officially to town.”

“Would you like to come in?” Angela asks and smiles happily when Evelyn nods. “Yes, I don’t mind.”

“Please excuse these boxes,” Angela says. “I’ve tried to offload as many as I can; I hope to finish the rest tomorrow.”

“It’s okay, we understand,” Evelyn says, sitting on the sofa with Mara.

“We brought you a pie,” Evelyn says, nudging Mara, who then places it on the center table.

“Thank you. I love pies.”

“Do you have any kids?” Mara asks.

“No. I don’t have any kids,” Angela answers. “I’m alone here.”

“Why did you move to North Carolina?” Evelyn asks. “Since you’re alone. If you don’t mind asking, that is.”

“I grew up here for thirteen years of my life,” Angela answers. “And I never forgot about it. I’ve always wanted to be back, so as soon as I retired, I made plans.”

“You’re retired?”

“Yes. I worked as a librarian for thirty years. Retired less than a year ago.”

“Oh, do you have any books?” Mara asks excitedly.

“I have loads of books. It’s all I have, really.” Angela reaches into one of her boxes and fishes through it for a book. “Would you like to read this? It’s called Charlotte’s Web.”

“Yes!” Mara squeals and turns to her mom with huge eyes. “Mom, please, can I take it?”

Evelyn sighs. “We don’t want to inconvenience Miss Angela. It’s our first time meeting her.”

“Inconvenience?” Angela laughs. “I worked with teenagers for thirty years, trust me, nothing can inconvenience me.” She throws the book at Mara, who catches it with a laugh.

“Teenagers, huh?” Evelyn sighs. “They can be such trouble.”

“Are you telling me?” Angela rolls her eyes. “We love them, but sometimes we want to give them a knock.”

“A knock?” Evelyn leans forward. “Sometimes, I want to drive mine all the way to Alabama and drop them off somewhere in the middle of the road.”

We both burst into laughter, and Angela is excited to have a neighbor as friendly as this because it may take some of the loneliness away. Moments later, Evelyn rises to her feet. “We should leave so you can settle in,” she says. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much for coming,” Angela says, walking mother and daughter to the door. “And for the pie, thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Thank you for the book, Miss Angela,” Mara says excitedly. “I’d return it as soon as I’m done.”

“Then I have more for you.”

Mara beams and waves at me as they leave. Now that they’re gone, the silence is almost unbearable.

Mara is a lovely child, and as Angela thinks about her, she imagines what a child of hers would have looked like. She didn’t have children, not for anything else but the simple fact that she couldn’t. She was married once and tried for kids all through the decade she was married, yet nothing worked. Even after her divorce, she continued trying for another decade until she gave up.

She loved children and decided to content herself with the regular interactions she had with the ones who came to the school library to read books. Later that night, before Angela lay down to sleep, she stood by the window and looked out at the sky outside, a satisfied smile on her lips.

She can finally see the state and moon. There was so much pollution in the city that simple pleasures like this weren’t accessible. The cloud spread for as long as her eyes could see, and the stars litter across the dark expanse like little dots. Content, she closes the curtains and lays down.

She doesn’t know what Blowing Rock will bring, but she hopes it’s only joy.