Love's True Journey

Prologue

Best friends never forget one another. But it's hard when you don't
know where your soul mate is. Ever since I can remember I had always
known Michael.
He was the one I played with and spent my whole childhood with.
Our mother's both gave birth to us during the month of new beginnings.
I was born on the 31st, he on the 22nd. Our families had known each
other for generations, and we went back a long way. Now we owned a
large plot of land in America, and we lived in two converted farmhouses
next door to one another.
Our land was situated far from the cities; it was out in the open. We
owned four meadows, and three fields on which we grew different foods.
Since we lived so far from the hustle and bustle of the modern day
world, our parents taught us from books they owned.
I excelled in English, Latin and Art while Michael succeeded in
Mathematics and Sports.
My family name was Archer and Michaels was Langdon.
Andrea and Robert Langdon had four children. The oldest being Michael,
then his sister Becky, his brother Nicholas and his youngest brother
Caan.
Sarah and David Archer had five children. The eldest being me, Amelia,
then my twin brothers Jared and Leo, my sister Michelle and finally my
baby brother Thomas.
Though our families were big, we were never poor, nor hungry. I don't
regret a thing about my childhood. I remember running through
cornfields and sunflower fields with Michael at my side. He wasn't like
other boys. He didn't tug my hair, trip me up or steal my things. He
was kind and understanding, he helped his parents and always settled
arguments. I think that's why I always got on so well with him.
But one day it changed. Our relationship, I mean. The way I saw him as
a friend. I couldn't confide in him as my 'mate', but my lover. It
transformed from a friendship into a budding new love. Fresh as
springtime, or something like that.

Chapter One

It was a sunny day, there were no clouds in the sky and the rain
seemed far away. We were sitting in one of our many sunflower fields
and I was absentmindedly picking off the petals of one particular
blossom, one by one.
Michael was opposite me, letting a bird peck some grains from his
hand. Then he looked at me. He always looked at me, but today was
different. There was something in his eyes, something altered. Maybe it
was because I looked so funny with daisies braided into my earth brown
hair, my scabby knees withdrawn beneath my protruding skirt, and
instead of wearing one of my loose and baggy shirts, I was dressed in a
rather formal bodice with my arms naked.
The reason was because Father had some important businessmen coming to
view his land and maybe invest some of it. In order to sway their minds
to a yes, we had been told to wash and change into our best clothes,
even the boys.
I suppose that was another thing that was different. Michael's hair
usually flopped around his head but today it had been washed and
brushed back, revealing a pale smooth high forehead. His clothes were
his navy blue corduroy trousers and a checked shirt.
His lips parted, as if he were about to say something, but he stopped
and continued stroking the bird, obviously not ready to say what he
wanted to say.
"What is it?" I asked, just adding the last daisy to my hair.
"Nothing," he replied, keeping his eyes down. "It's just I thought you
looked very pretty today."
I smiled nervously and felt my cheeks turn red.
To cover the awkward silence, I started to hum a tune that my mother
had taught me long ago. Michael looked up at me again, and this time
didn't stop. I hadn't noticed at first, but lay down on my back with my
head on my hands, staring up at the sky.
He copied me and positioned himself next to me so that our bare arms
were touching.
For a while neither of us talked, but listened to the sound of the
birds and the animals. The bark of the dogs, the baa of the lambs, all
the sounds that portrayed our outdoor lifestyle.
Then Michael sat up suddenly. I too rose, and stared into his
eyes.
"I was reading a book," he began, searching for the right words. "And
it involved something I have never experienced before."
"Well, what is it?" I asked.
"Well, in England and France they do it a lot. It's called
kissing."
I smiled and started to turn scarlet again, remembering the day I
found out about kissing.
"I was just wondering if you would like to try it. So that we know if
we like it or not."
Feeling mischievous I agreed. This you must understand, my life was
always about playing. I didn't want to grow up just yet, so this was
new to me.
We leaned into each other, pouted our lips and kissed. It was short
but sweet. I couldn't say if I liked it because I didn't really know.
But I do know that our hearts were both fluttering and our stomachs
felt as light as air.
"Would you like to do it again?" I asked, this time keeping my eyes on
the soil beneath me.
Michael nodded, and again we both bent forwards. But the second kiss
never came. A shout from indoors sounded that the businessmen had
arrived and that we were to gather at the front door. Michael grabbed
my hand and we ran out of the fields and towards our mothers and
siblings.
There our parents positioned us so that we were at the back, the
youngest we held, and the others sitting on the steps at the front. We
all gave our most graceful smiles and welcomed the tall white men in
suits into our home, their hats as tall as steeples and their jackets
smooth.
My mother had set the table so that there was tea and freshly grounded
coffee for them. She showed them to their seats, and our parents sat
down with them. We were ordered to go play elsewhere, so Michael and I
took the seven children into the living room and set them down with
paper and paints.
I felt tired so I went upstairs. Thomas followed me and we went into
my bedroom, which I shared with Michelle and Becky.
As I entered my room, I sighed. It was immaculately clean, Michelle's
toys piled and stacked in the corner, all my reading books shelved, our
clothes folded and put away, our beds tidied.
I flopped down on my divan, sinking into the warm and comfortable
eiderdown. Thomas climbed up with me and positioned himself in the
small of my back. We rested for a while, listening to the conversation
downstairs. I heard Michael coming up the stairs and was immediately
followed by our other brothers and sisters. They poured into our room,
laughing and chatting, Michael carrying Caan on his shoulders.
We smiled at each other, not mentioning what had happened out in the
field. It was to be a secret between us. We remained in the bedroom for
a while waiting for the right time to emerge. I was busy putting makeup
on Michelle and Becky when Michael's father called up at us.
Running down the stairs and holding the smallest we entered the
kitchen to find all the adults seated at the wooden pine table. My
mother looked at me, rose from her chair and swung me round in a big
hug. From this I knew we had got the deal signed and agreed. Everyone
rejoiced, congratulated each other and soon a party was in progress.
Mrs Langdon and my mother began preparing a feast while the children
made decorations. I called my Grandparents in the city and told them
the good news. The asked if they could come down, and that was another
two people added to our party of thirteen.
That night was a joyous occasion. We celebrated well into the night,
and even Michael and I were a bit intoxicated for the first time.
In the morning I did not rise early like the rest. I stayed in bed and
relaxed due to a pounding headache. Around nine o'clock Michael crept
into my room and sat on the end of my bed, his sapphire robe tied
around him. He took my hand and looked gently into my eyes.
"I really am keen on that thing we did yesterday."
I nodded. "Me too."
"Do you want to do it again? I mean, I'll understand if you
don't."
I grinned cheekily, and nodded for a second time.
He leant over and kissed me.
"I'm telling!" came a voice from the doorway.
We quickly looked and saw the back of Nicholas' head, running down the
staircase and screeching at the top of his voice,
"Michael and Amelia were kissing!"

* * *

That night, as I was helping my mother tuck in the girls, she motioned
for me to follow her downstairs. I went after her and she led me into
the kitchen where Michaels mother was drinking coffee.
"Sit," she ordered. I obeyed her instructions and sat opposite them,
wondering what on earth was happening. Then they began to giggle. That
then turned to hysterical laughter, which when eventually subsided,
vexed me.
"Well?" my mother said, as if it were I that had summoned them to the
'conference' table.
"Well what?" I replied, now irritated from top to bottom.
Now Mrs Langdon began to chuckle, and once again she was in spasms of
laughter in a very short time.
"Come on, if you just got me down here to giggle at me for no reason
then I am going."
I stood up to show that I really meant it, but my mother laid a hand
on my arm and signalled for me to sit back down.
"We heard what Nicholas was screaming and we want to know if it is
true."
"About what?" I enquired, acting as if I were dumb.
"You know what," Michaels mother said, forcing her face to be
straight.
"If it was about the thing that Nicholas saw Michael and I doing, then
I am not ashamed or embarrassed and I wish you'd keep your nose out of
these that weren't your business." I stormed out the kitchen and hid
around the corner, keeping as hushed as I could in order to listen to
the talk.
Their voices floated out into the hallway.
"It's so cute that them two are getting along so well. I always feared
that Michael would never be interested in Amelia, but obviously I was
wrong. You should be very proud Andrea."
"I know," agreed Andrea. "I'm so glad we live out here, and not in the
city with those high living, partying all-nighters. No offence meant to
you and David, but it's just I couldn't stand the racism and cruelty
that the kids would have to suffer, Sarah. You know what I mean."
"Hmm."
I left the hallway and went to lie down on my bed. No one was in the
room and the girls were asleep, and luckily for that, because a warm
fresh tear crept out of the corner of my eye and trickled down onto my
cheek.
I too was glad we didn't live in the city, but sometimes I wish I
weren't what I was. My family were black. Coloured, Negro's, whatever
you may call them. We were different, and I hated it. People stared at
us, pointed at us, just because our skin was a shade darker. What was
even worse was it wasn't both of our families. Michael's family were
white. They belonged in the city, and we belonged out here.
I wiped my eyes and buried my head into the pillow, before falling
into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning I awoke to find Michael leaning over me, and
smiling.
"Wakey wake," he chorused. I gave him a sarcastic smile and rubbed my
eyes. Just as I was about to shove him out of the room so I could get
dressed, he quickly moved towards me and placed a lingering kiss on my
lips. He grinned again, and we kissed.

Chapter Two

From that moment on, my life changed. I saw him as a lover, and not my
playmate. My stomach fluttered whenever I thought about him, and breath
would come in soft sighs. My heart was lighter, and when we were
together, we would melt into one person. His hands would caress my back
and stroke my hair. I would place lingering kisses on his cheeks and
run a finger over his smooth skin. It was heaven.
"Amelia?" he murmured.
I lifted my head off his chest and turned to look at him.
We were sitting in one of our sunflower fields, and the sun was an
immense yellow in the sky. I blew out a gust of wind into his face, and
he closed his eyes, letting the cold breeze blow over his face.
"Do you ever think about what will happen? You know, once we've grown
up?"
I frowned, trying to think about what he was trying to say.
"Well, even if you haven't, I have," he rushed on, obvious wanting to
say what was on his mind before I interrupted him. "I know that I'll
never want to leave you. I have to see you every day, and I know that
feeling will never go. I love you, Amelia."
"Michael, why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to know, and I want to know how you feel."
I was afraid he was going to say that. I licked my lips nervously, and
took a deep breath.
"You really want to know?" He nodded. "Every time I see you, I thank
god. I'll whisper to him, thanking him and asking why he did this. I
can hardly believe my luck, yet there's that small tremor of fear in my
heart. That arrow that pierces it every time I get close to you."
"But why does it hurt? What causes you pain?"
"The thought that when you move into the city, you're going to meet
someone. Someone you love even more than me, and I'm scared Michael.
I'm terrified."
"But I could never forget you. And when I go into the city, you're
coming with me. We'll live together, no matter what our parents
say."
"But Michael! We're totally different. You're white and I'm black! It
would never work. You know that, but you're trying to dislodge it from
your mind. You won't admit it to me, so why can't you admit it to
yourself?"
He sighed, and hung his head. I reached out and touched his chin,
lifting his eyes to mine.
"But no matter what, I will always love you."
He smiled sheepishly, and leaned forward to kiss me.
"So you love me?" he asked, touching my cheek.
"With all my heart."

*

"I'll do it in a minute!" I shouted angrily, throwing down the cloth
and storming to the open doorway.
My mother had been on my back all day and her constant nagging had
really gotten to me.
Returning to the kitchen, I picked up the wet sponge and continued
with the cleaning. Both sets of parents had gone into madness, and were
making us children clean the whole house whilst they sorted out
properties with the businessmen.
Soapy water flicked up in my face, and I scorned. It glistened on my
cheek, with one large bubble. Wiping it off, I sat back on my heels and
sighed.
"How is the cleaning?" came a voice from the doorway.
And there was Michael, silhouetted in the doorway, bright light
surrounding him as he took off his work boots and stepped into the
cool, dark kitchen.
"Do not ask," I replied, picking up the rag and working furiously on
the floor tiles.
"You've got it a lot more easier than me," he said, sitting down
opposite. "I've got to clean out the horses, the pigs and the cows,
then I've got to paint the house and then I have to help with dinner
tonight." He sighed and shook his head. "You know, sometimes I think
that they are just making us do this. For the sheer fun of it."
"I have to scrub these tiles, clean the cupboards, inside and out,
clean all of the windows on the ground floor and help with dinner
tonight."
"What? Is it just us two doing dinner tonight? We have to do the whole
lot?" he gasped.
"I guess so."
"But I can't make anything! I have to get someone to help me make
porridge, let alone an entire feast!"
"Michael, calm down. We will get through this,"
I laughed, his face mixed up in a look of pure horror.
"I hope you're right. Well, I have to get back to my cows. Bye."
He turned and headed out through the door. I watched him go, and
smiled to myself.
Two hours later, after all the washing and cleaning out had been done,
after all the buckets and cloths had been put away, and after everyone
had changed into fresh clean clothes, Michael and I locked ourselves in
the kitchen and brooded over what to cook.
"Why don't we use that pheasant that your mum's kept in the freezer?
We could use the herbs and spices to make a sauce for it and we could
boil some potatoes," I suggested.
Michael raised one eyebrow. "Where did that come from?" he
asked.
I tapped the side of my head, and grinned.
"Okay, lets get cooking."
Whilst the frozen pheasant carcass sat roasting away in our fire, we
boiled potatoes, carrots, beans, sweetcorn and parsnips. We sprinkled
black-grounded pepper, and generously added delicious flavours to the
vegetables.
"Are you sure this is going to taste all right?" Michael asked,
throwing in a pinch of sea salt into the potatoes.
"As long as it doesn't kill them, it will be a success."
He raised his eyebrows, and continued stirring the tomato sauce that
would go with the home made pasta his mother had concocted a couple of
days ago.
"Do you honestly think they'll like all this? It seems a bit much.
What's the occasion?"
"I don't know. Our father's were talking this morning, and they shooed
me away quickly. It seems very secretive and I don't think I like it,"
I said.
"Me neither. Right," instructed Michael. "Lets bring out the
starter."
Carrying a tray in each hand, we made our way out to the dining room,
where the family were sat around a scrubbed wooden table, cutlery and
mats laid out formally.
They smiled, oohed and aahed and clasped their hands together as the
smell of freshly cooked pasta drifted up their nostrils, the scent
wavering in the air.
"This looks marvellous," my mother praised, causing both me and
Michael to blush.
"This is the starter," I explained. "There'll be three more courses
coming along."
"Well I just can't wait to try it all," Andrea spoke. "Knowing you two
the whole dinner will be fabulous."
Michael and I looked at each other, doubt lingering in our eyes.
"Enjoy," I declared uncertainly.
We put down the plates of food, and headed back into the kitchen, the
smell of roasting pheasant overwhelming me.
As they sat there, waiting like hungry newborn birds, we brought out
dish after dish. Different combinations of spices and herbs blended
together, thyme and rosemary, and then we brought out the
dessert.
This is what Michael was so very proud of. It was soft bread rolls,
spiced with cinnamon. Drizzled with a sticky sauce it was sweet and
satisfying.
After all the dishes and cutlery had been washed and put away, and
after everyone had squeezed out of their chairs and collapsed in the
living room, Michael and I entered to a raucous applause.
We blushed, and sat down quietly.
"A drink!" exclaimed Robert, Michaels father. My father, David, rose
from his chair and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments
later with a tray laden down with alcoholic drinks and sweet beverages
for the children.
Pouring out glasses of tomato juice and vodka, we raised them.
"A toast! To Michael and Amelia! For their splendid meal!" Everyone
cheered. "I don't know how we would get along without you two," my
mother congratulated.
I don't know how many glasses I had that night. My head had begun to
spin, and I was giggling uncontrollably at nothing. Michael was the
same.
We both sat there, laughing and drinking and watching our parents make
fools out of themselves.
"Fancy going for a walk?" Michael asked, his words slurring a
little.
I nodded, and began laughing again at the thought of my head rolling
off for nodding too much. We rose and were heading towards the back
door when my mother stopped talking and called to us.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, raising her
eyebrows.
"Oh Sarah, let them be. They're probably just going for a walk. Aint
that right kids?" Robert said.
We nodded, and went outside, closing the door firmly behind us. We
walked down the side of one of the sunflower fields, swinging our arms
and walking zigzagged.
"Did you know, that our birthdays are in a few months?" Michael asked,
cocking his head.
"I know," was all I could say. We were going to be sixteen, and as
soon as we were, we were going to get engaged. I grabbed Michael's arms
and swung him around.
There we were, dancing in the moonlight. No cares at all.
Then, as sudden as the nauseous feeling I had a moment before, he took
my hand and headed into the sunflower field.
"Michael, where are we going?" I laughed.
He turned around and smiled to me, a cheeky knowing smile. He stopped
and looked around. We were directly in the middle of the field where no
one could hear us or see us. He wrapped his arms around me and held me
tight.
"Amelia, I love you."
He pulled off his shirt and lay it down on the ground for me to lie
on. I relaxed, lay down and pulled him to me. As we kisses, his hands
stroked my cheek. Then they slid down and softly brushed my neck and
shoulders. Then he moved his hands down to my stomach where he traced
little drawings with his fingers. Our lips were locked together, our
tongues dancing in our mouths. My eyes closed and I felt so relaxed. I
caressed his face, touching his jaw with my fingers. The feel of his
muscular body next to me sent shivering feelings through my spine. I
embraced him, my hands running down his bare back and I could feel his
powerful shoulder blades as he stroked my skin.