Office (Part 4)

Hidden behind the plants in her cozy corner, the butterfly-chasing girl peeked at me. Her body posed just as mine sat still in a rocker. A deck of cards sat silently next to her on a TV dinner tray while she observed my anxieties. Quietly she began to rock.

Laurenn came into the room carrying two glasses. She smiled as she handed the glass of water to me and then curled up in the winged back chair. She reminded me of a child’s princess doll placed haphazardly on a play throne while the child ran for cookies. Taking a sip of my drink and placing it squarely on the coaster, I returned her smile. We looked at each other for what seemed too long. I crossed my legs, still expecting Laurenn to speak. She didn’t and I began to think I had wasted my time and money.

“You haven’t wasted your time, Julia. I presume you came here to find out what’s wrong?” I sat up, my eyes wide open. Again, she laughed her deep laugh. “Everyone comes here believing something is wrong with themselves, with a loved one, with the world. Some are wrong, some are right. Everyone gets answers, but they are rarely what they expect them to be.”

I gulped in some fresh air, while she sipped her tea, and waited for her to give me my answer. I’d been waiting for an answer for years. “It can take time though. The answer doesn’t always come to me right away.”

“But mine? Do you have my answer?” My heart fluttered as if cards were being flipped and the air seemed to cool around me. I found myself perched at the edge of the chaise, desperation having pushed me to totter precariously on the edge. Laurenn continued to sit comfortably in the chair, the angles of her face highlighted by the sunlight that had been misplaced when she sat down.

Her eyes wandered to the corners of the room. They rested on the plants just behind me. Looking back at me, she said “Minutes are worth more than money. Spend them wisely.”

*** The previous 'pages' can be linked to under June as Office, part 1, part 2, and part 3 ***

Sunlight

We walked down the well trodden path, hand-in-hand, silent, to the sandy coastline where the earth meets the water. The vast expanse of blue spread before us. It was humbling, the two of us so small in such a large open space, alone. As the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon, Dennis dropped to one knee and I held my breath in happy anticipation.

*** One Word ***

The Border

The ad played over and over again, tempting me to follow through and "run to the border". It wouldn't be the first time I caved, but I knew that I would leave feeling bloated and still unsatisfied. What was it about the ad, the freedom it promised in whispered undertones, that drew me in so easily even after so much experience told me to quickly head in the other direction? Taco Bell was simply never going to live up to the whispered promise.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***

Secret

I stood outside the door and rapped three times and then two more times, and finally, one last short rap. Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock, knock. I waited and nothing happened. Just as I raised my fist to try gaining entrance by reversing the order, an eye ball in the crack of the door. "What's the secret password?" my best pal Mikey asked.

"I brought a present!" I lifted the box wrapped in light blue paper with airplanes pulling Happy Birthday banners. Mikey's eye disappeared and the door swung open.

*** One Minute Writer ***

Bullying

I sat in math class scrunched down in the desk, my arms pulled tightly against my sides and my eyes diverted to the numbers littered across the worksheet. Quietly I read the numbers littered across the page and pretended to understand. Raising my hand to ask for help would be out of the question. Taking up less physical space meant that my presence would be noticed that much less.

Mr. Lindon called my name. I looked up, alarmed by the attention he inadvertently cast on me, and stumbled through giving a cohesive answer. "Correct," he said, "if we were on that question. Try number 13, not number 3." I heard Leslie whisper something behind me, probably to Frank. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on number 13. Then came the giggles, slowly spreading around the room.

I felt my eyes become moist. Shakily I started to answer number 13. Mr. Lindon interrupted to tell the class to quiet down. I began again. "The hypotenuse of the triangle would be...." I stopped cold. The whole class was laughing without restraint. Leslie had blurted something out and I was pretending not hear it, just as Mr. Lindon was doing.

It wasn't true. I knew that, but knowing the truth didn't make me feel any better. The truth was much darker and scarier. How could I possibly explain to them that last night I'd sat behind my bedroom door distracting my sisters from crying while listening to my mother begging for mercy from the beating? How could I tell them that the water had been shut off for three weeks and my aunt only allowed us to shower at her house on the weekends when my father would disappear? That it was unlikely it would be turned back on in the foreseeable future? How could the teachers not notice that things were terribly wrong even though I managed to get good grades? School was suppose to be my escape from the poverty and abuse, not an unhappy addition.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***

Campfire Memory

Sitting on the deck, the soft glow of rope lights slipping around the curves of their chubby thighs, while watching the moon rise slightly higher in the sky. It is silent other than the occasional crunching of the graham cracker crusts of S'mores and the snap of the fire. I pull my coat a lighter tighter in the chill breeze while sliding closer to the flames. I'm grateful to be able to relive this memory on cool evenings.

*** One Minute Writer ***

Searching

I flipped the pages of the book. The black words, blue boxes, and orange frames flew past me. First forward.... and then backward. I knew the answer was there. I just didn't know on which of the 300 pages I should be looking on.

Today, I hate the Spanish language.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***