Mr. Ripley's Plan

March 18, 2009
By Dave Rowland BRONZE, Olympia, Washington
Dave Rowland BRONZE, Olympia, Washington
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Mr. Ripley’s Plan

Spring had come after a seemingly endless winter at the Ripley’s place. By now Ripley had grown somewhat envious of Mrs. Ripley’s trip. He also had gotten over how much he needed Mrs. Ripley or how much he said he needed her since she got back.

“I’ve been plannin’ myself a vacation for all of us,” Mr. Ripley came out and said one afternoon.

“Where’re we goin’ to?” Mrs. Ripley inquired with some surprise at hearing her husband talk of something she thought looked out of the question.

“Oh I don’t know, just a getaway somewhere.”

“Waal, how can ye be plannin’ yourself a vacation and have not a clue where you be agoin’ or where you’re gittin’ the money?” snapped Mrs. Ripley.

Mr. Ripley dropped the subject,
for he knew that if he went any further that she would cut him off. He also hated when she brought their financial situation. Still Mr. Ripley remained determined to have his say in the matter so he decided to bring it up later.

In the evening the next day, Mr. Ripley came in from the fields as hungry as a spring planter. He had planted that years potatoes and felt like he had planted ten years’ worth.

“So how was your day?” Mrs. Ripley inquired as she set the table for dinner.

“Now that’s mighty strange you ask because you ain’t asked me how I be doin’ about as long as we’ve been… Oh I reckon I feel about dead,” he remarked at last as he sat down at the table with a huff.

“We got some mail today from one of your relatives,” said Mrs. Ripley, handing him a letter as if
she had not heard him.

“That’s mighty quire,” mumbled Mr. Ripley taking the letter, “since I haven’t heared from them since we moved in here 1824, when we were…”

“Yes, I know when you last heared from them,” Mrs. Ripley cut in, “but what does the letter say?”

Mr. Ripley turned the letter around in his hand and tore it open and unfolded the note.

“To Ethan Ripley,” he read, “I’m writing to you about your great uncle who, I am sorry to say, has recently passed away…”

“Well, I declare I didn’t even know I done had a great uncle. How old do you think he was?” Mr. Ripley looked up in surprise. “Why, he must have been at least 102 when he done hisself in.”

“Ye mean he killed hisself?” Mrs. Ripley asked.

“Who’s your great uncle?” Tewksbury asked, who chewed his vegetables slowly like all children do. He was also looking for a way to distract his grandparents so that he could get away without eating them.

“According to the grapevine, he
was some loaded miser, who could afford to leave us 200 dollars,” came Mr. Ripley’s faint voice, who sat staring at the note as if he had just spotted his name on the obituary list.

Mrs. Ripley sat up as if she had received an electrical shock. She got up and to Ripley’s great surprise actually ran to his side of the table and tore the note out of his hand. Mr. Ripley had never seen her so animated in his life.

“If this be a joke of yours, Ethan Ripley, you’ll never hear the last of it from me,” Mrs. Ripley said as she quickly read the note.

Ripley held the check high, fearing Mrs. Ripley would tear it in her excitement.

“Thunder and scissors, now settle down now! Didn’t I tell you I had our trip all planned out?” Ripley triumphantly stated, after he had composed himself from the shock of the letter.

“Air we really goin’ on a trip!” Tewksbury shouted.

This idea had not exactly come into Mrs. Ripley’s mind, and she had her own ideas about how they should properly spend their money. But before she could even say a word, he grabbed her around the waist and before Jane Ripley could stop him, he gave her the biggest kiss that couple had seen since their honeymoon…

The author's comments:
This is an extention of a short story called "Mrs. Ripley's Trip"

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