17 September 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2498: it’s none of his business

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“So, the moral of the story is, don't call here on some foolishness when Edwina is up early on a Saturday, and don't think she doesn't know your phone number, because she does.”

Nine-year-old cousins Milton Trent and Vertran Stepforth were just trying to make sense of the biggest example yet that just like it was with her Ludlow grandfather, messing with eight-year-old Edwina Ludlow was just not what you wanted to do with your life.

Edwina's father's father, Capt. R.E. Ludlow Sr., still had a week to go before returning from inpatient therapy, and her mother's family was trying it … they knew Edwina and her true siblings Eleanor (11) and Lil' Robert (5) were going to be some rich little heirs just like their first cousins Grayson (6), Amanda (7), George (9), and Andrew (10). Capt. Ludlow had taken his Lee-of-the-mountain family's old recipes and opened a soda company that had taken off, and it was getting too big for him to run, so everybody knew that eventually he was going to sell it, probably to his fellow veterans backed by the Lofton Trust.

Edwina's mother's family suddenly had gotten interested in their Ludlow grandchildren, only to have Edwina standing there with the attitude of 'I don't play about mine – I will protect my baby brother, and I will protect my big sister because she's a thinker not a fighter, but I WILL BREAK BAD AND I'M NOT AFRAID OF PRISON! All y'all want is money and you can't have it or us!”

One of Edwina's aunts had tried to sneak a call in, but had used her mother's phone, and Edwina had recognized her hated grandmother Isabelle's phone number.

“I know there's nothing but a bomb crater over there,” Vertran responded to Milton.

“Even without – well, how does she even know about a daisy cutter – I mean, how do we even know what that is?” Milton said. “I've never wanted to be just nine more in my whole life!”

That had just been the start, actually – that had been before Col. H.F. Lee and his wife Maggie had rushed to the scene and found out that like most little kids, Edwina had a grip of steel and was not letting go of that phone until she said everything she had to say to everyone.

“It's none of your business, and it's none of her business, and it's none of his business – it's none of y'all's business because when we should have been your business, you didn't care about us and you can't have nothing now! Don't make me send Papa over there! Don't make me come over there! We know where all y'all live and we can skip trace your phones and we know lots of people who have ordnance! I'm trying to be a sweet little girl and grow things, but if y'all need me to grow a daisy cutter real quick –!”

Meanwhile, Edwina's best friend eight-year-old Gracie Trent dragged eleven-year-old sister Velma and ten-year-old Andrew Ludlow to the water hose.

“Father, in the name of Jesus, we need you to bless this water in this hose and make it holy right now, because this is an emergency for your daughter Edwina who is trying to catch a case and some terrorism charges!”

“Amen,” Velma and Andrew said, and helped unravel the hose as Gracie finally got the phone out of Edwina's hand and ended the call by hosing down Edwina and the Lees inside the Ludlow house.

“You don't suppose your dad my Uncle Major won't just let me move over there for the fall, huh?” Milton said. “You see these eight-year-olds I gotta deal with.”

“Remember, Milton,” Vertran said, “my brother is 16 – two times eight – and that's why he blew up the kitchen trying to deep fry a frozen chicken. I think he's better now, but I can't vouch for you being any safer.”

“I guess we just gotta pray,” Milton said, “because with the people we know, yeah.”