A Literary Dinner...

[Elf Girl]

This is a little something we had to do for English. The assignment was to imagine ourselves 20 years hence. We are hosting a dinner party. The guests are one character from Oliver Twist, one from Tom Sawyer, one from Treasure Island, and one classmate. The classmate was supposed to be 20 years older, but the characters as they were in their books. (The classmate's name has been changed. ) Don't bother to read this if you are not familiar with the classics in question. The 'Middle Earth-style banquet' isn't really Middle-Earthy, but it's not as if my classmates can tell the difference. O, and 'Greg' is a general mean-spirited troublemaker in my English class.


A Literary Dinner

As a lone, persecuted Elf who had fled to Brazil to live in the rainforest after high school, I was a bit nervous about inviting some of my friends from seventh grade advanced English to a Middle Earth-style banquet in my small platform high in the trees. As I waited anxiously for the first guests to arrive, I realized that there was no real way to locate my home by the side of the Amazon River. Even as I thought this, I heard a muffled crashing coming from a few hundred feet off in the brush. I immediately climbed down the twisted vines surrounding my tree, to see Brianna Gold, now a millionaire writer of humorous 'holy stories', entering my clearing while leading a small child by the hand. She knew where my house was, as just last month she had brought me some cloth and metal implements to keep me well supplied. She smiled faintly to see the gown I had made from the silk she gave me.
'Hello, Bri. Wonderful to see you. And this would be Oliver?' The last statement was directed at the child, who was now looking awkwardly around.
'Aye, miss, it's me!' said the young, sweet hero of Oliver Twist, his eyes bright. I grinned.
Bri and I had fallen into talk about her latest holy story, which apparently concerned God taking the form of a Twix bar (Oliver was shocked), when a canoe drifted around a bend in the river. Sitting in it were two Native Americans, one of whom was holding a bundle and the other a paddle, and a lady positively swathed in the lace and ribbons on her dress, whose face was a mask of shock and horror. She held a tiny parasol close over her face as the native with the paddle guided the boat to a stop. As she exited, the hem of the lady's dress grazed the water and she cried out. Snatching her bundle from the other native, she cast a few coins into the boat and ran towards us.
'Greetings.' I extended my hand toward the lady, who was actually Aunt Polly from Tom Sawyer. She had produced several lacy handkerchiefs and was dabbing her face with all of them at once.
'Oh, oh,' she seemed almost in tears. 'That horrid river, and- and those red Indians- it's beyond bearing, I reckon it is.'
I was worried. 'Well, how about you come and have a cup of tea, wouldn't that be soothing after your arduous journey?'
'Yes, I suppose,' she murmured, seeming to have gained some control. 'And you must call me Aunt Polly- everyone does.'
Bri agreed to go attempt to teach Aunt Polly to climb the vines into my tree while I awaited the last guest with Oliver. After a short while, I heard rough chanting from the far bank of the river.
I sighed. It was Israel Hands, a bloody buccaneer from Treasure Island. I'd had qualms about inviting him- but still, he was one of my favorite characters. I motioned him over to my handmade vine bridge. When he had crossed, we all walked to the base of my home tree. Bri had evidently gotten Aunt Polly up safely, for I could see a small fire in the stone hearth. Israel Hands immediately began swarming up the gnarled vines. I began my more organized and faster climbing method, helping Oliver along just below me.
When I finally reached the bough just below my platform and scrambled onto it, (dragging Oliver after me) Aunt Polly was sitting in one of my few, rough chairs, drinking tea and mumbling about horrid vines. Oliver immediately knelt next to her and asked her what the matter was. When Aunt Polly explained about the horrid vines, and showed him a tear in her ample skirts, he comforted her, explaining that it would be all right and he was sure his adopted sister Rose could mend her dress. She took to him at once.
Once Israel was safely up, and had expressed a wish for something 'a mite stronger than tea', I told them I would fetch the first course immediately. I let myself down from branch to branch, stopping at my storage platform to bring up some wine, bread, and salad. I filled Israel's cup and he downed it in one gulp. I smiled, filled it again, but made a mental note not to let him have more. Aunt Polly and Oliver were both shocked at the idea of taking liquor. When I filled Bri's goblet she smiled.

[Elf Girl]

'You know, once I was at my friend's first communion, and they were giving out the bread and wine. When it was my turn, I said "Wine please." But they gave me grape juice! My mom got wine.' I smiled at this much-repeated first holy story of Bri's.
'Well, you can have wine now.' Bri smiled and took a sip.
Israel Hands was meanwhile tearing chunks out of a loaf of bread with his teeth, (having surreptitiously dropped his salad over the edge of the planking) and coarsely demanding more wine.
'He's so rough!' murmured Aunt Polly, hiding her face behind yet another lacy handkerchief. Oliver clung to her hand and said he agreed.
I decided it was time to bring in the main course. When I returned with a platter of spiced meat, things were in chaos! Israel was singing a bawdy song, Aunt Polly was close to fainting as Oliver comforted her, and Bri was screaming something about uncomfortable pews in church. I quieted them and served the meat. (I also gave Israel water despite repeated demands for liquor.)
Dinner took an unpleasant turn when Oliver said the meat was very good and wanted to know what it was. I refused to tell him. Good meat is scarce in the jungle, and sometimes howler monkey is all you can get, but I didn't want to disturb my guests. When I said I wouldn't like to talk about the meat, Israel spit his mouthful all over the rough table. I fetched a cloth, but Aunt Polly was faster with her never-ending supply of handkerchiefs. She wiped Hands's chin firmly before moving on to the table.
At this point I was desperate, so I cleared what dishes there were and brought some coffee and a pie. Aunt Polly suspiciously eyed the pie and asked what it was made of. When I truthfully told her it was made with sweetened figs, she said she wouldn't take any. All the others did though, and I made a generous pot of coffee for my two female guests.
'Please miss, may I have some more?' said Oliver, finishing his first slice of pie very quickly. I gave him the last slice and poured the coffee for Bri and Aunt Polly. By the time they finished, the dinner party was winding down. Bri seemed to grasp my wish not to let there be much after-dinner conversation, and said she must be going, to help Oliver catch his flight to England. Aunt Polly gave Oliver a handkerchief and told him to be a good kind boy.
A few minutes later, Aunt Polly said she too must be going, but she was 'terribly a-frightened of those dreadful vines'. Surprisingly enough, she looked positively pleased when Israel Hands offered to help her down. I escorted my guests down my tree, (Aunt Polly blushing furiously and muttering about 'horrid pirates') and to the river, where we discovered with a shock that the natives in the dugout canoe were gone and Aunt Polly had no way to get home. Israel made a gentlemanly offer to take her in his sailboat to the ocean, and she blushingly agreed. Once they were gone, I relaxed in the calm of the evening jungle. The dinner party had nearly been a disaster, but still, it was entertaining. Who knows? Maybe next time I'll invite Fagin and Greg.

[Entlover]

I think it's great!
But I take issue with your covering Aunt Polly with lace and ribbons. I picture her as a practical middle aged woman with work-roughened hands who washes her own laundry, and instead of fainting at a red Indian would probably set him to work washing the dishes, and take a broom to anyone she didn't take a liking to.
Aside from that, the dinner party is a great idea. Only the after dinner conversation should be the best part, not something to be avoided.
Oliver is a nice touch, with his asking for more!