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Creative Writing > The Finder - comments please

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message 1: by Jenni (new)

Jenni | 15 comments Gracie -The Finder

I am a finder, and as the name suggests we finders find things.
Finding is a natural ability that emerges between the age of two years and six years. By the time I was four my parents were proudly telling everyone in our street that I was a finder. This ability of mine was a surprise because normally it was passed down through generations, but there was no one else in the family, or in our extensive family stories who was a finder.
The majority of finders have one speciality, some two and the very rare finder has three. We are very much in demand in this world of ‘do everything at top speed’, and ‘use whatever short cuts you can to achieve a better life’, better in what way I still haven’t discovered. The general attitude is - why spend some time looking for something or someone when you can pay a finder? And even better why pay a finder if you can coerce or persuade, through whatever means at your disposal, a finder to work for you free gratis?
My parents proud bragging meant, of course, that many in the neighbourhood were jealous and wanted to prove my parents wrong. I was suddenly a very popular little girl, invited into everyone’s home. Finding a babysitter was no longer a problem for my parents, in fact they had a queue of eager people who suddenly had the time, time that they never had before, to look after me.
My dear parents blinded by their pride, excitement and keenness to find out what speciality I had, encouraged me to say ‘yes’ to any requests, without always checking what the people wanted me to find. I remember being asked to find a ‘huge pile of money’, well the town only had three banks at the time so it was quite easy for me to direct my neighbour’s zoomer to the nearest one. I did ask him why he hadn’t thought of it before asking me, it did seem fairly obvious, and I was only four. He wasn’t very happy, he pushed me out of his expensive, fast car saying something about being made a fool of or not and he left me there, in town, in the dark, on my own.
Of course I had no problems finding my way home, although I had never walked the shortest route before. It took me through the, shall I say, interesting part of town, my innocent eyes absorbed many a not so innocent sight. I didn’t understand what I was seeing, but my father turned red in the face when I asked him why some people liked to roll in the streets with not many clothes on, or rub themselves together up against a wall. They didn’t seem very comfortable as most of them were groaning. For a while my parents were more careful who I helped. But they had short memories.
The people who asked for me to help them were not being cruel, oh no, it is just that finders are not cheap to hire. Every town has a finders bureau where you take your problem, it is assessed and graded, when the fee has been paid a finder will be chosen and the job will be done. Not always a quick fix to a problem but it sorts out the time wasters and lazy people from the genuine cases. Most people however know about the ‘back door’ where small requests could be handled without the bureau knowing – ‘under the nose’ it is called. If you have access to a four year old finder who is happy with a small gift of fruit or a packet of sugars, then I guess that’s what you do.
Don’t get me wrong, though, when I was four I loved visiting other people’s homes, seeing what their houses looked like from the inside- I was very curious- or nosy- so it suited me, this popularity. I enjoyed the cakes, drinks, sugars and fruit, I felt important and special. There were some requests that scared or puzzled me, but generally I was happy to help, when I could. It was very tiring though, and I never had trouble sleeping, not when I was four.
But after a few months the whispers began, it seemed that my talent was not consistent and my speciality was hard to determine. There was anger when I failed to find something for one person but managed to help their next door neighbour. Favouritism was spouted and my parents were often confronted with red faces and spluttered insults when they arrived home from a long, tiring day at the factory where they worked.
My best friend lost his toy hover car in the shared garden, it was his favourite red one. He cried when I could not find it and refused to speak or play with me for a week. We were friends again, briefly, until I found his kitten drowned in the stream that ran behind our houses. For some reason, his parents said, it was my fault that the kitten was dead, I should have found it sooner.


message 2: by Krystal (new)

Krystal (misslady022) | 96 comments Great story Gracie, will you be writing more of it?


message 3: by Jenni (new)

Jenni | 15 comments Thank you and yes- I will write Gracie's story in the NaNoWriMo challenge- writing a book in a month !!!

Wish me luck and join the madness


message 4: by Krystal (new)

Krystal (misslady022) | 96 comments Yay! and good luck


message 5: by Jenni (new)

Jenni | 15 comments thank you. Are you writing at the mo?


message 6: by Krystal (new)

Krystal (misslady022) | 96 comments No I'm just a reader


message 7: by Jenni (new)

Jenni | 15 comments Never Just a reader, without readers where would writers be?


message 8: by Krystal (new)

Krystal (misslady022) | 96 comments So true :)


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