Thanks for the helpful suggestions Zooks and ChokeCherry. One thing I should mention though is that for this excerpt, Mary specifically did not want the beginning of the story, but an example of characterization, even if it comes in the middle of the story. There is an entire page that precedes this excerpt describing the setting and also describing Madame Beauvais. Good point about what Marie is wearing--I can comment that she is wearing a bathing suit.
The story takes place in Haiti moments before the 2010 earthquake (again, this is described in the first page). Because Haitian orphans are raised in a different environment, they often behave a little more immaturely than we might typically expect for children raised here in stable households (explaining why she giggles and acts somewhat younger). Of course, orphans growing up on the streets might "toughen" up faster than expected, so it depends a lot on the individual and the experiences they encounter. As a result, Marie is more innocent and less worldly than other 12 year-old characters might be, though she matures quite a bit over the course of the story.
Okay, so I made some edits and I agree it reads better, but please see what you think. Without the descriptions of setting, etc for this sample, is it still possible to appreciate the characterization?
Thanks again!
REVISED SAMPLE:
When Madame Beauvais reached the crest of the hill, she found eleven-year-old Marie playing with a shell near the water’s edge, her dark curls slicked against her head. Sand covered her emerald-green swimsuit and chocolate skin in patches. Blue waves lapped near Marie’s feet.
Madame Beauvais shouted as she climbed down the path: “Marie! Come away from the water now. It’s time to go!”
Marie’s brown eyes smoldered as she looked over her shoulder. Her anger slipped away when she reminded herself the orphanage director yelled a lot, but life would be much worse on the streets. At least Madame Beauvais had never lied to her like everyone else she met. Marie held up the shell and said, “Jean-Paul said LaSirène can find my mother. She likes seashells.”
“What have I told you about the Siren?” Madame Beauvais stopped a few feet away and wagged her finger.
Marie lowered the shell and stared at it. “That she does not help children.”
“What else?”
“She lures people into the ocean’s depths and drives them mad.” The shell had pretty red spots on the back. When Marie turned it over and tilted it back and forth, different colors rippled in the sunlight. “Manman liked seashells—she would have loved this one.”
“Leave it.” Madame Beauvais held out her hand. “We have to go. I must get you and the others back to the orphanage.”
Marie hugged the shell against her chest. “No. I want to talk to LaSirène. If she likes this shell, I can convince her to find my mother.”
“Marie Chante'! How dare you talk back to me?”
“I’m almost twelve years old and I’m tired of being told what to do.” Marie took a step backwards toward the water. She wobbled as the sand shifted before spreading her feet for balance. Clenching the shell in her fist, she said, “Manman is out there somewhere. Sometimes, I hear her calling my name at night.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ve been with us since you were four years old. I doubt you even remember your mother’s voice.” Madame Beauvais’s brow furrowed as she gazed up at the other children, who had resumed their circle game. “This is all Jean-Paul’s fault, filling your head with stories. He’ll have to work extra hours for telling you things that can never come true.”
“What?” Marie stumbled backward as if she had been slapped.
The color drained from Madame Beauvais’ face. “Oh, Marie,” she said. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You always said my mother loved me.” Tears streamed down Marie’s face. With every step, it seemed like her feet would never touch ground again. “You promised she would come back.”
“Your mother did love you, just as I love you.” Madame Beauvais held out her hand again. “Please, come with me, and I will explain everything.”
“You’re a liar!” Marie staggered backwards, the water swirling around her ankles. With all the fury she had, she pointed at Madame Beauvais and shouted, “I trusted you!”