Asher: Heroes at Heart

by Jordan, Maryann

  Asher

  Heroes at Heart

  Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice.

  My other best friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader and my Marketing PA, but friend. I do not know what I would do without you in my life.

  My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise, Sandi, Barbara, Jennifer, Danielle, Tracey, Lynn, and Jamila for being my beta girls who love alphas!

  Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my developmental editor and “G” as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making all my books as well written as it can be.

  My PA Barbara keeps me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only her assistance, but her friendship.

  Chas…thank you for all you do!

  Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.

  Author’s Note

  Please remember that this is a work of fiction. I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last twenty years have called Virginia my home. I often choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.

  These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.

  It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.

  I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used in order to create scenes or plots.

  Asher (Heroes at Heart) Copyright 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Becky McGraw

  ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-40-8

  ISBN print: 978-1-947214-41-5

  Created with Vellum

  As an adolescent counselor for over twenty-five years, I had the opportunity to work with many young people. One young man, upset over a poor choice he had made, came to me. As I listened to his story and his confession, I told him that the true measure of a man was not in the mistakes he made, but in how he handled those mistakes. I remember the look on his face when I told him I was sure he was going to be a good man.

  So this book is dedicated to all the students over the years who allowed me to be a part of their lives.

  1

  Asher was glad that the others did not mind having the lights on. It wasn’t that he was scared. Well, not exactly. It was just that when his oldest brother, Zander, read to them at night, he had such an expressive voice that the stories and fairytales became real.

  Tonight, the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves was what Zander was reading.

  “When his brother does not come back, Ali Baba goes to the cave to look for him and finds the body quartered and with each piece displayed just inside the cave’s entrance as a warning to anyone else who might try to enter.”

  Terrified at the idea of finding a body, eight-year-old Asher tucked his skinny legs in tightly, his arms wrapped around his shins and his chin resting on his bony knees. He felt an arm slide around his shoulders and glanced to the side, offering a grateful nod to one of his other brothers, Cael.

  The bedroom was furnished with bunk beds against one wall and a twin bed against the other. An old wooden dresser stood against the third wall, next to the closet door. The dresser had three drawers, one for each of the boys that stayed in the room. A lamp stood on top of the dresser, often providing the only light for the bedtime reading, but tonight the overhead light was on as well.

  Miss Ethel had a new rule in the house. If the bedtime story was scary to any of them, all the lights in the room must be on. Asher was not sure if the rule was put in place because of him, but he was glad for it.

  His three oldest brothers, Zander, Rafe, and Cael, all stayed in this bedroom. Across the hall was an identical room, furnished exactly the same way. That was the room he shared with the twins, Jaxon and Jayden.

  “The thieves, finding the body gone, realized that another person must know their secret, and they set out to track him down.”

  Zander’s voice was terrifying as he read from his large abridged storybook. Hating the story, Asher wanted to jump off the bed and run across the hall to his room but tried to be as brave as his brothers.

  “Oh, my goodness! You read a scary story last night, Zander. I thought tonight should be something easier,” Miss Ethel said, standing in the doorway. Her grey hair was pulled back into a simple bun, and her blue dress, cinched at the waist with a thin belt, paired with tan, rubber-soled shoes made up the typical outfit that she wore almost every day. But instead of being boring, Asher found it comfortable. He had not known a lot of comfortable in his life before he came to Miss Ethel’s and loved knowing what to expect from her.

  With wide eyes, he looked toward her before swinging his gaze back to Zander, who simply shrugged and closed his book. “I was only going to read the first part of the story anyway,” Zander explained.

  As Zander flipped pages, Miss Ethel said, “You need to choose a short one since tomorrow is a school day.”

  “Here’s a short one,” Zander exclaimed. “The Ugly Duckling.”

  Asher was familiar with this story, as he was with all of the ones that Zander read. He unwrapped his arms from his legs, knowing that he would not need to be scared any longer.

  “It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful.”

  As Zander’s express
ive voice began the tale describing the beautiful countryside, Asher imagined the scene in his mind, remembering a time when Miss Ethel took them for a ride out of the city where they visited a farm. He had never seen anything like that other than in books.

  “One egg is not hatched yet,” said the duck, “it will not break. But just look at all my others, are they not the prettiest little ducklings you ever saw?”

  Asher remembered seeing little ducks at the pond on the farm, loving the way they swam in a row right behind the mother duck.

  “At last, the large egg broke, and a young one crept forth crying, ‘Peep. Peep.’ It was very large and ugly.”

  At this point in the story, Asher squinted his eyes closed in hopes that the image of the farm would stay in his mind and not be pushed out by the sounds of his mother constantly telling him how ugly he was.

  “He is so big and ugly,” said the spiteful duck, “and therefore he must be turned out.”

  The old duck said, “The others are very pretty children, all but that one.” The poor duckling was driven out by everyone. Even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him. His mother said she wished the cat would get him, and that he had never been born. So, at last, he ran away.”

  Rafe leaned back against the headboard and said, “This story always makes me feel sorry for the ugly duckling. Even though we know how the story is going to end, I still hate this part.”

  Miss Ethel was perched in the wooden chair by the bed and asked, “I think it’s difficult for us to realize how very cruel we can be to other people.” As her gaze moved around the room before landing on him, Asher peered at her kind face. He said nothing but knew he did not need to. There was very little about him that Miss Ethel did not know.

  Before anyone else could interrupt, Zander continued, “The goslings told him to go to the moor and find the wild geese which would be just as ugly as he was. Just then, two wild geese fell dead among the rushes, as the sportsmen shot them from the sky.”

  As the story continued, Asher listened with anticipation as the ugly duckling was abused by a group of hens, turkeys, and some children. He loved the end of the story and could not wait for Zander to get there.

  “Everything looked beautiful, in the freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming lightly over the smooth water. The ugly duckling decided to fly to those Royal birds, thinking that they would kill him, but when he looked down at his reflection in the water, his own image was no longer a dark gray bird but a graceful and beautiful swan. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow in trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and happiness around him. The greatest swans swim around the newcomer and stroked his neck with their beaks as a welcome. The children now came to the garden and clapped their hands, shouting joyously. He rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart.’ I never dreamed of such happiness as this while I was an ugly duckling.’”

  Zander closed the book with a snap before climbing from the bed and placing it carefully on the bookshelf.

  Jaxon shook his head and asked, “Miss Ethel, you always say that fairytales are supposed to teach us lessons. I don’t really understand what we’re supposed to learn from this story.”

  Before she had a chance to speak, Cael said, “I think it just means that when people are mean, you just ignore them and then all the good stuff will happen to you later.”

  “Some reviewers of Hans Christian Andersen’s story," Miss Ethel began, “have said that Andersen himself was a tall, ugly boy with a big nose and big feet, but he grew up with a beautiful singing voice. Therefore, some have said that he was writing about himself. Other critics have said that the Ugly Duckling is not confronted with the trials that you would find with a typical fairytale hero. That things simply faded, and the Ugly Duckling doesn’t need to do anything other than just wait until his nature is revealed.”

  “I like the story,” Asher said, his voice soft. He swallowed deeply when the others in the room turned to look at him. He was not sure if the kind expressions on their faces were because they felt sorry for him, but barely giving it a thought, he decided he did not care.

  Miss Ethel smiled at him, and he thought her face was beautiful. In one of the picture books that were on the shelf, the front cover was of Mother Goose, who was always portrayed with an apron tied around her slender neck, a bonnet on her head, and little glasses that she peered through. Inwardly grinning, he always thought that Miss Ethel would have made a perfect Mother Goose.

  "What do you think, Miss Ethel?” Asher asked. “Do you think we can learn something from this story?”

  “What have I always told you boys?”

  Since she was still looking at him, he assumed she wanted him to answer. Thinking, he replied, “You tell us that we can always learn something from stories.”

  She met his answer with a nod, and prodded, “Then use your imagination and tell me what this story can teach you.”

  She was now looking around at the others, and he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she did not expect him to be the only one to answer.

  “I think it means if you’re ugly, then you can just wait around, and one day, you’ll be pretty,” Rafe said, a grin on his face. “There was a girl in my class last year, and I thought she was ugly with braces on her teeth. But once they came off, she was real pretty.”

  Shaking her head, Miss Ethel disagreed. “You’re talking about outside appearances, Rafe, and not in a very nice way, I might add.”

  “Maybe it means that everybody has the potential to be pretty,” Zander said, his brow knitted as though he were pondering his answer carefully.

  “What do you think it says about the inside of us?" she continued. “What if we think about all the other characters in the story that supposedly on the outside were pretty, how did they act?”

  “They were mean!” Jaxon and Jayden said in unison, the other boys nodding emphatically.

  “I think mean people are ugly,” Cael said, folding his arms across his chest, a glare on his face.

  Turning her gaze back to Asher, she asked, “And what do you think, Asher?”

  He scrunched his face in thought then said, “I think some people are ugly on the inside and they’re mean to other people. I don’t think we should ever be like that.” His shoulders slumped, though, as he added, “But I don’t know that everybody can be pretty on the outside, no matter how long they wait.”

  Miss Ethel leaned forward and placed her hand on his leg, giving a little squeeze of comfort before leaning back in her chair and gaining the attention of all the boys. “There are actually a number of lessons that we can learn from this story, regardless of what some of the literary critics have said. One is that not every child grows at the same rate. Some of you will hit your growth spurts early, and some of you will be later. Not everyone develops at the same time, and it’s important to know that your time will come.”

  Cael grinned and puffed out his chest. “I’m the tallest one in my class,” he said proudly.

  Nodding, she laughed and said, “Yes. But one day you will find the other boys will shoot up just like you.” Folding her hands in her lap, she continued, “Another lesson learned from this story is that words can really hurt. You recognized that when you said that the others were mean to him. We always need to remember how that feels so that we make sure our words do not hurt others."

  Memories slid through Asher’s mind. Memories of words thrown at him. Words of anger. Words of pain. He felt the sting of tears hit his eyes, and as though Miss Ethel knew where his thoughts had gone, she spoke again.

  “Another thing that we learned is that everyone changes as they grow, and we can use our early experiences to make us a more compassionate person. The Ugly Duckling became the prettiest one in the area, but he did not go back to those who mistreated him and act like they had done. He remained humble, remembering
what it was like to not feel good about himself.”

  Asher remained quiet, as did the other boys as they thought about her words. He wanted to believe that he would change as he grew but inwardly feared that his earliest memories would stay with him.

  Standing, Miss Ethel said, “I think it’s time for all my boys to go to bed. Jaxon, Jayden, and Asher need to head to their room. I’ll be there in just a few minutes after I say goodnight to Cael, Rafe, and Zander.”

  Jaxon and Jayden scrambled off the bed with Asher right behind. Across the hall, Jaxon climbed into the top bunk while Jayden slept in the bottom bunk underneath his brother. Sitting on his bed, Asher could not but help notice the twins, only one year older than he. They had dark, thick hair that always waved about their heads. They smiled easily, their teeth straight and white.

  Cael had been right when he said that he was the tallest in his class. At ten years old, he had already had a growth spurt, keeping other kids from making fun of his red hair. Zander and Rafe, both now eleven, were playing sports after school, and he noticed that they were getting stronger. Sighing, he had looked in the mirror more than once when they were all in the bathroom brushing their teeth, and the difference was glaring. His teeth seemed too big for his face. His ears stuck out ever so slightly. His hair seemed to grow at odd angles, sticking up everywhere. His arms and legs seemed more like sticks, his elbows and knees knobby.

  Before he had a chance to think more about the physical differences, Miss Ethel came into the room. She moved first to Jaxon, tucking him into the top bunk. They whispered for just a moment, and Asher smiled, knowing that she spoke with each of her boys as she tucked them in. Next, she bent to the bottom bunk, lightly chuckling with Jayden.