Dora's Decision

Well, here's another 30 days of creative writing piece. The prompt for this piece was "A story that takes place pre-1950". Since I had already done that, I thought it would be fun to continue that story, but set it several years later, when Dora has had a chance to learn to stand up to her brother. She has found a unorthodox way to stand up for herself, but it fits her personality.

Dora’s Decision

By Katie Whipple

Ralph looked at Dora tenderly. “Will you?” he simply asked.

Dora had been waiting for this question for weeks. She and Ralph had been courting since she was seventeen, and they had grown very attached. She thought back to just yesterday, when her brother Davy had brought up the subject.

“Hey Dora,” he’d said, “You gonna marry that Ralph Andrews?”

“I don’t know,” was her practical reply.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? The two of you’ve been courting for ever so long.”

“I mean, he hasn’t asked me, and I can’t be certain that he will, so no, I don’t know if I’m going to marry him.”

Davy looked at her around the cow he was milking. They had grown closer over the years as the two had matured. As a consequence, they had also overcome many of their differences. The twins still disagreed on many things, but they enjoyed each other’s company and were able to disagree peacefully when they did disagree. Davy thought that Dora deserved better than Ralph Andrews, and had told her so on several occasions. Ralph was kind of scrawny and seemed rather dull to Davy.

He sighed. “You want him to ask you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I think so.” The romantic look in Dora’s eyes worried Davy. “What do you see in a man like that?” he said. “Why not go after a man like Rob MacPherson? He seems to like you, he’s clever, and he’s the most sought-after man in the whole county!”

“Oh, sure, but he also thinks it funny to hold his dog up by the back legs while watching the poor thing try to right himself. I don’t know—I just dislike him. I’m not sure exactly what, but something about him puts me off. Of course he’s always civil to me, but he’s downright disrespectful to his hired hands! Ralph, on the other hand—he may seem boring to you and Anne, but he’s sweet, and kind, and thoughtful. Did you know that yesterday he was late coming to call on me because when he was at the store, he let every woman and child in line in front of him? He sure did. And he helps his mother in her little garden, because she’s getting up in years and can’t manage it as well. I'd pick Ralph over Rob ANY day.”

“Well, I think you’re just afraid that you’re going to be an old maid,” Davy asserted.

“Think what you like. I still like Ralph best.” Dora looked at her brother thoughtfully. “Thank you for your concern, though,” and she smiled. Davy still tried her patience, but now he did it more in concern for her well-being, and not to play tricks. She changed the subject, and they headed back to the house.

· · · · · · 

“Will you?” Ralph had asked.

Dora considered other conversations of unsolicited opinions from her other loved ones—Marilla had told Dora that she could marry whomever she liked. Anne—still Dora’s idol—had hinted that Ralph was not very bright and that Dora would regret a decision to marry someone from the purely practical Andrews family. Davy thought a snappier man was more suitable for his only sister. Mrs. Lynde had also put in her two cents worth, of course. “All of the Andrews are very good, sensible folk. You’ll do well to get Ralph if you can.”

Dora cared about their desires. She hated making other people unhappy, but the others didn’t really understand what was really best for her—except for Mrs. Lynde, perhaps, but she always managed to give advice in the most disagreeable way possible, in a way that made the one wish to go against her advice. In this way, Marilla was the only one who had truly not influenced Dora to refuse Ralph.

Dora looked up at Ralph, took a deep breath, and said, “I will!”

· · · · · · 

Anne looked up from the letter she had just received from Dora. It was full of the happenings of Green Gables with a very concise and a very typical Dora statement to finish it off, “Ralph Andrews has asked me to be his wife, and I have accepted. We are to be married in October.”

“Well, Gilbert, it looks as if your prophecy came true for our little Dora—the poor thing is afraid of becoming an old maid. She has gone and accepted Ralph Andrews. The wedding is set for October.”

Gilbert looked up from his paper. “What did she say?”

Anne quoted the line from Dora's letter. “It’s just like her, don’t you think—to bring tidings of her engagement in such a mundane manner, full of understatement and devoid of any emotion? None of this "frivolous" gushing over her intended like most girls her age do. She is a sweet thing, though, and I hope she will be happy.”

· · · · · · 

Dora and Ralph sat under the blossoming apple tree in the Green Gables orchard. The two had been making plans for their lives together after their wedding, but had been silent for some time now. Ralph’s arm was around Dora’s shoulders, and could hardly have looked more pleased with himself. Dora looked up at him fondly, and her heart was filled with love for him that could not and would not be put into words, no matter how many times she tried.

Dora of Green Gables

Austin and I recently started a 30-day creative writing challenge. We're going to take much longer than 30 days in the process, but I thought you might be interested in what I have written. I won't post everything that I do, just the ones that I liked. I'd love to get some feedback from you on what you think of what I've written!

This particular story is from day 2, "write a fan fiction." I've always been a fan of Anne of Green Gables and I've always felt that poor Dora (from Anne of Avonlea) was never given the benefit of the doubt. In the series, she's portrayed as a perfectly behaved but incredibly boring girl. This is my attempt to explain a little bit about why she was the way she was.

Dora of Green Gables

Davy gleefully shaped another mud pie with the mud from the pig pen. Dora could tell that he was enjoying it, and wished she could go and play, too, but Marilla would be upset if she got her dress dirty. “Boys get to have all the fun!” she thought. Her twin brother Davy always got away with all of his shenanigans, no matter how bad he’d been. Any time Dora did something that was out of line with the adults’ code of conduct, she got a good talking-to, which cowed her for at least the next month—whereas Davy could care less about sermons and just went right back to whatever he was doing before the lecture. Sometimes he’d try to stop, but it would never last longer than a day or two. Dora sighed. That was probably why Davy got away with things and she didn’t—Davy just didn’t think the consequences were all that bad.

“Dora! Come help me make pies!”

Oh, it was tempting! Mud pies were just the thing for a slow Sunday afternoon. But if she did—no. She wouldn’t even consider it.

“No, Davy, I’ll get my dress dirty. I can’t.”

“Aw, come on! They’re bully pies! You can make them look like whatever you want. Look! This one’s an apple pie.”

Dora came closer, and saw that Davy had made one of his mud pies to look like the top of an apple pie, with criss-cross lines to look like the interwoven dough. Dora thought if she tried, she’d be able to make one just as good, and maybe even better. An idea popped into her head of how she could ripple the edges to make it look more like a real pie.

“No, Davy! I can’t! Marilla will be mad if I ruin my dress!”

“Marilla shmarilla!” However, Davy knew he’d lost the argument here. Dora was such a wuss whenever she thought she might get in trouble. He decided to change tactics from persuasion to revenge—how dare she be more afraid of Marilla than of Davy himself?—and said, “Fine! If you’re so high and mighty, try to keep your dress clean while walking the pigpen fence!”

Dora’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t do that!”

“Ha! Fraidy-cat! Fraidy-cat! You’re so scared of a little mud. What if I came and wiped my hands on your dress? Would you be afraid then?” Davy started to approach Dora, with his muddy hands outstretched.

Dora backed away a little, and said, “I’m not a fraidy-cat! I just don’t want to walk the fence.”

“Yeah? Well why don’t you want to walk the fence?”

“I just don’t want to.”

“Fraidy-cat!”

“Fine! I’m not afraid to walk the fence!” and Dora proceeded to mount the fence.

Once she was on top, Dora immediately regretted her decision. Davy always convinced her to do imprudent things. “Well, here goes nothing,” she thought, and gingerly put one foot in front of the other on the fence rail. Dora carefully raised her arms for balance, and took another step. So far so good. Her heart was pounding. What if she fell? The ground was pretty close, but if she landed on the wrong body part, it could really hurt! Dora took a few more steps. Maybe she could do this after all!

Just as Dora was gaining confidence, Davy yelled, “Woo-yeah, go Dora!” which surprised Dora so much that she jumped—not a lot, but just enough to move her enough off-center that she started to fall. Dora flailed her arms, frantically trying to re-gain her balance, but the damage was done. Dora’s feet slipped off the slender rail and suddenly she was covered in mud. She was conscious of Davy’s laughter, but she couldn’t join him. Davy had conned her into his mischief again. Everybody would be so disappointed in her. She didn’t know how she could bear it!

All day Dora had worked hard all day to keep herself presentable. She never spoke without being spoken to first, sat still during church, ate the food put in front of her, said please and thank you, and worked especially hard to keep her dress and face clean. Davy didn’t even try. She was afraid that if she didn’t behave well to cancel out Davy’s mischief, the two would have to change homes again. It was only their first week at Green Gables, and she was anxious to make a good impression, and now Davy had ruined everything. Dora burst into tears.

Davy stopped laughing and looked at her strangely. “Don’t cry, Dora. That was a bully fall. You should have seen yourself—with your arms waving around and the look on your face—oh, man, I couldn’t help it! You just looked so darn funny!”

The pig chose that moment to run over Dora’s dress, and she sobbed all the harder.

Between sobs, Dora managed to choke out that nothing could make up for her dress being ruined in the mud and for how mad Marilla would be when she saw Dora’s dress.

“A little bit of mud can’t hurt—I’ll rinse you off under the pump, and it’ll make you as good as new. Don’t worry, I do it all the time.”

Dora looked at him doubtfully, but figured that the water might wash off some of the mud. She followed him to the pump and meekly waited for her shower. Davy energetically worked the pump, and Dora was suddenly soaked by a gush of ice-cold water. Some of the mud came off, but not much. Davy kept working the pump, but to no avail. Finally, Dora gave up and told him to stop. She looked at her dress again and realized that her sash and shoes were now spoiled by the water. She started crying again. Would nothing go right for her?

Davy suggested that the dress would be okay if she just stood in the sun and let it dry, but she was too disappointed in him to follow his advice any more today. Dora walked to the house and into the dining room, where Marilla, Anne, and all of the guests from the Aid society were having tea. Could there have been a more humiliating time to fall in the mud? Marilla looked shocked. So did Anne—Anne, who Dora already looked up to and from whom she yearned approval. The members of the Aid society looked like they couldn’t wait for her to leave so they could gossip about her and what had happened.

Dora was so ashamed that they all had to see her like this, but Marilla was kind and took her up to the bedroom for clean clothes. After hearing Dora’s explanation, Marilla didn’t have the heart to discipline the poor child, and tea with the Aid society went on downstairs without them.

· · · · · ·

That night, Dora laid in bed, thinking about the day. Davy had been punished, but Dora didn’t want punishment for Davy. Dora wanted to be able to stand up to him on her own, without being intimidated by his taunts. A plan started to hatch in her mind. It would take a long time—maybe even years—but Dora was determined that one day, she would have the courage to stand up for herself whenever she wanted to.

The End

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I wrote a sequel! Check it out here.