By V.C. Andrews
Of the entire parents within the mountain shacks, the Casteels have been the bottom -- the scum of the hills. Heaven Leigh Casteel was once the prettiest, smartest lady within the backwoods, regardless of her ragged outfits and soiled face...despite a father meaner than ten vipers...despite her weary stepmother, who labored her like a mule. For her brother Tom and the young children, Heaven clung to her delight and her hopes. sometime they would break out and exhibit the area that they have been first rate, nice and proficient -- valuable of affection and recognize. Then Heaven's stepmother ran off, and her depraved, grasping father had a scheme -- a vicious scheme that threatened to damage the valuable dream of Heaven and the youngsters without end!
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Extra info for Casteel Family Saga 1 Heaven
Now, I've heard tell, though it's hard to believe, that there are kids in the world who hate school, but Tom and I couldn't wait for Mondays to roll around, just so we could escape the confines of our small mountain cabin with its smelly, cramped two rooms, its far walk to the stinking old outhouse. Our school was made of red brick and sat smack in the heart of Winnerrow, the nearest valley village, set deep in the Willies. We walked seven miles to and seven miles fro as if they were nothing, always with Tom close at my side, Fanny tagging along behind, meaner than ten vipers, with Pa's black eyes and Pa's own temper.
The wind blew wild and fierce and snapped her thin white hair and blended it with my own before she spoke again. ” “Nah,” she scoffed, stubborn as she could sometimes be, set in her ways like an old tree with too many roots. “Ya wouldn't pay no tention iffen I told ya there. ” She hesitated as her eyes fixed on a slim little tombstone. She raised her arm and pointed her gnarled finger at the granite headstone. I stared at it and tried to read what was engraved there. How very odd for Granny to bring me here during the night, where maybe the ghosts of those who lay here roamed about looking for living bodies to inhabit.
Even as I tried to tug her along at a faster pace, she dragged her small feet, resisting in every way she could, as Keith encouraged and assured her, “It's not so bad, not so bad,” and that's all he could say in favor of school. The cabin was where Our Jane wanted to stay, with Sarah, with her ragged old doll with the stuffing half fallen out. Right from the beginning she hated school, the hard seats without cushions, sitting still, having to pay attention, though she loved being with other children her age.