These were the creatures the Goat Children rode, and curled to their backs must be feathery wings. The horns, I remembered, healed the worst of wounds, and the wings made them fly faster than a jaguar could run.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “You…you are the Goat Children.”
From the ranks of young women, one stepped forward. Her hair was cut short, curled, and a shining brown. Her green eyes sparkled, and her smile stretched wide.
I recognized the bone structure of the oval face, the prominent nose, and the deep-set eyes. I saw the same face when I looked in the mirror, and when I looked at Mama and Phebe.
The young women knelt to clasp my trembling hands to help me stand.
My legs wobbled, and she tucked my snarled hair behind my ears for me.
“Oma.” Tears burned my eyes. “I missed you so much.”
“Darling Keziah.” My grandmother’s eyelids drifted shut as she kissed me on both cheeks. “Welcome to the Goat Children.”
THE END
Acknowledgements
My maternal grandmother, who will always be Amma to me, has always been my best friend. She watched me while my mom worked, took me on vacation, and taught me manners. Not a day passes that I don’t hear her voice in my head.
When I was around sixteen, I noticed that she was starting to forget things. When I told my family, they didn’t take it to heart at first, but as the years progressed, the forgetfulness heightened. Many of the instances in this story are based on real interactions with my grandmother.
She had always encouraged me to love the written word. She bought me books every chance she got, and many of them she read to me. Amma loved my stories, so she would have me recite them into a tape recorder, and she would often write them down for me. She did this until I had my first computer, which she bought for me. Afternoons were spent at her house typing away.
My mom, uncle, and I took care of her for many years so that she could stay in her home. Eventually, though, she asked us if she could “go somewhere people take care of you.” We researched nursing homes and found one we felt would be the best in the area.
After a few years of living there, my grandmother passed away. She wasn’t sick, but she stopped eating, and nothing we could do would encourage her to eat again. My heart still aches for the loss of her, and every day, something reminds me of her. I like to think that now she isn’t suffering from dementia, that she can be at peace with her loved ones that have gone on before.
I hope that this book will strike a chord with others who have lost someone to dementia. Remember the good times; remember what they would have done for you before the illness.
As always with any book, I must thank my critique partners for all of their assistance. Their keen eyes have helped to polish my work.
I wouldn’t be an author without the support of my family. They are always eager to go to book signings with me and hear any book news I have. Their marketing ideas will forever be appreciated.
In the story, Keziah’s family is not a reflection of mine. We all supported each other in taking care of my grandmother; we were a team. Keziah’s family members are all completely fictional.
Speaking of family, the name Keziah is borrowed from my fourth-great-grandmother, Keziah Bennett-Kimber (1792-1858), and my sixth-great-grandmother, Keziah Mather-Lain (1749-1814). Phebe is borrowed from my fifth-great-grandmother, Phebe Lain-Bennett (1770-1830). The last name de Forest comes from my ninth-great-grandmother, Rachel de Forest (1609-1643).
The biggest thanks of all is reserved for those who have enjoyed my other books. You don’t know how much your messages warm my heart. I hope you enjoy this one too!
About the Author
Jordan Elizabeth, formally Jordan Elizabeth Mierek, is known for her odd sense of humor and her outrageous outfits. Surrounded by bookshelves, she can often be found pounding away at her keyboard – she’s known for breaking keyboards, too.
Jordan’s young adult novels include ESCAPE FROM WITCHWOOD HOLLOW, COGLING, TREASURE DARKLY, and BORN OF TREASURE. GOAT CHILDREN is her first novel with CHBB. Her short stories are featured in over twenty anthologies. Check out her website, JordanElizabethMierek.com, for bonus scenes and contests.
Fun fact: In the author photo above, Jordan is wearing her grandmother’s wedding dress.
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