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Love in 1860: Part 5

Love in 1860 (An Easy English Story): Part 5

February 25, 1861

Dear reader,

The snow is melting. I can hear more birds in the morning.

And I am going to leave this house in the spring.

My plan is simple. I don’t want to stay here anymore.

When the weather is warm, I will tell David and Elizabeth, “I am going to pick berries in the woods.” I will hide food under my skirt. I will leave and never come back.

We are living in Virginia. If I walk north, maybe I can go to New York. I think New York did not have slaves in 1861. In movies, some people hide on trains. Maybe I can find a train to New York. I can hide in the back with the animals. I can sleep in the hay.

After David talked with the neighbors in December, I did not talk with him for three weeks. He and Elizabeth were worried. They said, “Don’t be angry. We need to keep you safe. You are not our slave. But if other people know that you are not our slave, they will try to take you. A black woman living with a white family is not normal. Maybe you are from the north. Did any memories come back?”

Not normal.

My mom’s parents were from Nigeria. My dad’s parents were from England and Mexico. Mom and Dad got married in 1997. This life is very normal for me.

I can’t tell this to David and Elizabeth. They can’t know that I am from 2025.

Last week, David gave me a book. It had many pictures in it. “These are pictures of cities in the north. Maybe you can remember your home.”

I looked at the pictures. I pointed to a picture of New York City. “Maybe this was my home…” I lied.

After seeing that picture, I decided to leave after the winter.

Yours truly,
Grace Miller

Part 6>

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Love in 1860: Part 4

Love in 1860 (An Easy English Story): Part 4

December 2, 1860

Dear reader,

I am scared.

Our new neighbors came to our house this morning. I was making breakfast in the kitchen. They knocked on our door. David opened it.

“Can I help you?” David asked.

The new neighbors are a man and a woman. Both of them are about twenty years old. Their voices were friendly. “We’re your new neighbors,” the woman said. “We are building a house near the river. It’s nice to meet you.”

David quickly said, “It’s nice to meet you too.” He added, “Let’s go talk outside. I can show you our barn.”

It was snowing outside, so I turned around. “I just made breakfast,” I said. “Would you like to eat with us? Our kitchen table is small, but it’s warm inside.” I laughed, “David, it’s so cold out! Our new neighbors will freeze.”

The woman looked at me with wide eyes. She whispered to her husband. Then her husband asked David, “Your slave calls you David?”

Slave?!

David looked at the floor. “It’s okay. I asked her to call me David.”

The woman crossed her arms and looked at my clothes. “Her clothes are beautiful.”

“We’re having a party tonight,” David lied. “I want her to look nice for our guests.”

When the neighbors left, David closed the door and sighed. “I hope this war ends soon.”

“I’m not your slave!” I yelled and threw my wooden spoon at him. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“If they know about our love, they might hurt you,” David said. “Don’t you know that?”

I’m not good at history. But even in 1860, I will not be anyone’s slave.

But I can’t leave David and Elizabeth’s house. Where will I go?

Yours truly,
Grace Miller

Part 5>

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Love in 1860: Part 3

Love in 1860 (An Easy English Story): Part 3

October 3, 1860

Dear reader,

I might like it here. It is so calm. So peaceful.

David, Elizabeth, and I work in the garden and in the barn all day. I feed the chickens, and I take water from the river for the plants. The birds sing in the trees around us. Elizabeth bakes fresh bread for dinner every night. David buys sugar, flour, and butter from the market every week. He makes money by selling furniture.

Last month, I told David, “I want to help you make furniture. You and Elizabeth are so kind. Let me help.” Now, David is teaching me to make a table out of wood. We work together in the barn every night.

Yesterday, David and I were carving flowers into the table. The night was cold. My hand started shaking. David put his hand on mine. His hand was warm and rough.

David asked quietly, “Can I hold you?”

I looked up at him. David looked away. His cheeks were red.

“Yes,” I said.

David pulled me to his chest. He rubbed my back and my arms. “Are you warm yet?” he asked.

I was very warm. My heart was beating fast. But I said, “I’m still cold.” David laughed and hugged me tight.

I felt safe in his arms. I feel safe here. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

Yours truly,
Grace Miller

Part 4>

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Love in 1860: Part 2

Love in 1860 (An Easy English Story): Part 2

July 20, 1860

Dear reader,

I miss my home. I miss my cat, Stripes. I miss my apartment in Boston. I miss riding the subway. I miss my friends. I miss drinking a hot cup of coffee every morning.

The names of the woman and her son are Elizabeth and David. They are very kind. I can’t go back to 2025. Elizabeth asked me, “Where are you from?” I couldn’t explain.

I told her, “I can’t remember.” It was a lie, but I cannot say “from Boston in 2025.”

Elizabeth gave me a hug. She smelled like fresh bread. She said, “You can stay with us in our house. You hit your head, right? Maybe you will remember soon.”

Elizabeth is like a mother. But I miss my own mother. I miss Mom’s big smile. I miss her Jollof rice and fufu. I miss watching America’s Got Talent with her.

Yesterday, David saw me crying behind the barn. I was thinking about home. David walked in, stopped, and left. He came back five minutes later. He was holding a piece of bread and jam. David put the bread in my hands. He opened his mouth. I thought he wanted to say something. But then he left.

How will I get back home?

Yours truly,
Grace Miller

Part 3>

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Love in 1860: Part 1

Love in 1860 (An Easy English Story): Part 1

July 15, 1860

Dear reader,

My name is Grace. I am 28 years old. You may not believe me, but I am from the year 2025.

Last week, I went hiking in the mountains. I fell down. When I woke up, my head hurt. I could not find my phone. It was evening, and the sun was going down. I needed to leave the mountains.

Then I smelled smoke. Maybe someone had a fire. I walked to the smell. I saw a small house in the woods. I knocked on the door. A woman looked out the window. She was surprised, but she opened the door.

“Please help me,” I said. “I fell and hurt my head. I don’t know where the road is. Can I sleep here? Can I use your phone in the morning?”

The woman said, “We don’t have a… phone. But you can sleep here tonight.” She looked around the forest and pulled me inside.

The woman was about 50 years old. She lived with her son. He was about 30 years old. They gave me some bread and a blanket. I slept on the floor. I was tired and went to sleep.

In the morning, I woke up. I looked around. The house had a wood stove. There were blankets on the windows. There were no lights—only candles. The woman and her son were outside in the garden.

I asked, “What is today’s date?”

The son laughed. “It’s July 15, 1860.”

Am I dreaming?

Yours truly,
Grace Miller

Part 2>

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See the World: Part 10

See the World (An Easy English Story): Part 10 (Final Part)

After the surgery, like always, Neil throws up. He doesn’t have time to take out the lenses, so he vomits with his eyes closed. If he sees the cells in his stomach, he will definitely throw up again.

Neil slowly stands up, takes out the lenses, and walks out of his office. The hospital’s hallways look orange in the sunset. Dr. Umar stands in front of a big window. She is crying and smiling. And talking to a news reporter. A cameraman points a large camera at them.

Dr. Umar notices Neil and waves to him. “Neil!” she calls. The cameraman turns toward Neil, and Dr. Umar tells the reporter, “This is Dr. Neil Kalkan. He just finished the cancer surgery with me.”

The reporter waves her hand, asking Neil to come closer. She holds up a microphone. “How does it feel to use such an amazing piece of technology? The lenses, I just…” she sighs excitedly, “can’t believe this is possible!”

The reporter pushes the microphone closer to Neil’s face. Neil is not wearing the lenses, but he imagines the germs on the microphone. Neon pink slime might cover the top of the microphone, even brighter than the reporter’s lipstick. Green spikes might swirl around the handle. Some of the reporter’s yellow breath might float toward Neil’s head. Dr. Umar’s shirt sleeve, covered in tears, might drip with purple and gray germs.

Dr. Umar’s tears flow down to the corners of her mouth. They might be filled with disease. But they are filled with joy. They are filled with life.

Neil breathes in deeply.

The world will never be the same. It will always be filled with spiky, slimy, moldy germs. People will always be weak, always be followed by sickness. But there will always be joy and hope.

Neil grabs the reporter’s microphone, stepping closer to her. “Using the lenses feels…” Neil cannot finish his thought. He grabs the microphone tightly as his eyes fill with tears. Through his tears, the orange sunset, Dr. Umar’s white coat, the reporter’s worried smile, the blue hallway tiles, the green patient chairs, his gray shoes–they all blur together.

-THE END-

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The Cold: Part 9

The Cold (An Easy English Story): Part 9

Priya holds my hand with one of hers while she drives. The streets are as silent as ice.

After we arrive at the mall, I tell Priya, “Wait here. If I don’t come back in an hour, call the police.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks. “I’m coming with you.”

My eyes fill with tears. They sting. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Priya and I walk up to the mall’s main entrance. Of course, the mall is locked at 2 a.m., but we wanted to try. “Let’s try the back entrance,” Priya says. We walk around to the back of the cafe, near the trash. That door is of course locked, too.

I begin to shiver with worry. What if Dad is in the freezer in that cafe? What if he is slowly dying, and I can’t get through the door?

I walk around the mall, trying every door to see if someone forgot to lock it. Priya stays by the cafe, pressing different numbers on the lock. Maybe she can guess the password.

We try to get in the mall for an hour, and it does not work. My fingers are frozen, and my heart is heavy. I begin to say, “Let’s go home,” but hear an engine. It’s getting louder. Priya and I hide behind the bushes next to the cafe entrance. A red light shines through the leaves and gets brighter.

A large, white truck is backing up right next to the cafe.

The driver steps down from the truck and throws open the back door. Three more men climb out. They are wearing medical masks and gloves. The driver drops his keys, and another man picks it up and throws it gently toward the driver. They laugh.

Priya and I crouch lower. The men begin unlocking the door. But it is not the cafe door. It is the door next to the cafe.

After a few minutes, the men come out, pushing a large metal box on a cart. They lift it into the truck. They go back inside and get another box. And another. And another. They stack the boxes on top of each other, like coffins. One of the men sits down on the back of the truck, tired and breathing heavily. He says, “I wish I were them now,” and the other men laugh.

The three men climb into the back of the truck, the same as before, and the driver shuts the door. Priya and I look at each other and nod. It looks like they have ice bodies. We have to follow them.

When the truck begins driving away, Priya and I run to the other side of the mall and jump in her car. The truck goes down a long road around the mall. Priya keeps her car’s headlights off and follows them. When the truck gets on the highway, Priya turns on her lights and slows down. “I want to get farther from them,” she says. “They can’t know we’re following them.”

There are sadly a lot of trucks on the road in the early morning. Priya changes lanes on the highway. The white truck is always a quarter mile ahead. After 20 minutes, the truck turns off the highway. Priya and I follow.

We drive for 30 more minutes. The rushing sound of the highway grows quiet. We drive past cow fields. Their eyes shine under our car light.

Finally, we reach a large building. It is gray and has no windows. There is one entrance for people and one entrance for trucks. Neither entrance has a sign. The truck parks next to the big entrance. The driver gets out, opens the door, and drives the truck inside. The door closes with a loud bang behind them. Priya and I drive past the building. We don’t want them to think that we are following them. We stop the car down the road, behind a wall.

Priya and I sit quietly. Then Priya claps her hands together. “I don’t care if we get in trouble. It’s time to call the police.”

I nod and take out my phone. My hand shakes. A woman with a calm voice answers. “911, what’s your emergency?” I tell her about the truck and the metal boxes. I even tell her about the ice that I saw in the old cafe. I hear the woman typing my report down. She then says, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but fifteen people called us today. They all said that they can help find the ice bodies. I know you want to help, but our police are so busy.” She sighs. “But I’ll send a police officer to see you. He’ll be there in about half an hour. You’re pretty far away from the station.”

In half an hour, Dad could be dead. If he is still alive…

I turn to Priya. “I don’t want you to get hurt, and this is about my dad, so it’s my responsibility. I’m going to that building before the police get here.”

“Ari,” Priya grabs my hand. She is adventurous, but I know that she is scared now. Her cold fingers squeeze my palm. “Those boxes… I think they’re coffins. If your dad is in there…” She shivers.

“I might see his dead body.” I finish Priya’s sentence.

“Why don’t we wait for the police? They have guns, and they can ask them to open the boxes. They can save your dad better than you can,” Priya whispers, “If he’s alive.”

I put my head in my hands and wait to hear the police sirens.

Part 10>

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See the World: Part 9

See the World (An Easy English Story): Part 9

Cancer looks like mold.  The cancer cells are a deep red, like poison berries. On the berries are gray and green moldy spots.  Fuzzy shapes climb in and around the patient’s brain.

Neil can see where all of the cancer cells are, but there is a problem: There are many cells inside the brain, and it would be dangerous to do surgery. Ibsituu Umar, a doctor from Mayo Clinic who uses the lenses, works next to Neil.  Before the surgery, she told Neil that she was nervous to use the lenses on someone with cancer. It might not be successful. But Dr. Umar wanted to try.

“Incredible,” Dr. Umar says. “I’ve never seen cancer before.”

“It looks like mold, right?”  Both Neil and Dr. Umar are wearing their lenses. Neil hopes that Dr. Umar has the same opinion as him.

“I actually think the cancer cells look like moss.”  Dr. Umar finishes typing data about the cancer cells into the computer. She pushes her glasses up her nose and sighs.  “We can try.”

We.

Finally, someone can see what Neil sees.

During the surgery, Dr. Umar works carefully. She stays focused on the size, shape, and place of the cancer cells. They finish their part of the surgery in just an hour. Neil turns on the computer, and it begins the genome editing. Neil and Dr. Umar sit and watch the cells start to change shape and color.

Neil enjoys working with Dr. Umar. She is only 38 years old, but she has three PhDs. Neil senses her love for medicine. While the computer works and the cells change color, Dr. Umar says, “The cancer cells are beautiful. I know they are bad, but I think the different patterns look like jewels. Nature is amazing.” Neil doesn’t agree, but he is happy that Dr. Umar can at least see the cells.

After seven hours, Neil and Dr. Umar finish. The genome editing was successful. Dr. Umar’s eyes are filled with tears. “We can change the world,” she says softly.

Part 10>