Blue.
Inspiration:
Mummy:
The soft full berries burst delightfully as she squeezed
them between her thumb and forefinger. Squish, squash, squashed. The juice was staining
her fingers and hands an amusing shade of royal blue and she imagined her mouth
and chin were a similar hue, with all the berries she had already consumed.
Defiant, she wiped her hands on her t-shirt and watched a blue smear emerge and
diffuse across the white cotton. Delighted at her recklessness, she laughed and
popped another blueberry into her mouth with child-like glee. She could eat as
many as she wanted, she thought with a smile. No one to tell her no, her blue
eyes glinted at the possibilities. No more do this. No more no don’t do that.
She looked at her backpack beside her and took a silent
inventory. She had considered the contents carefully as she shoved them angrily
into the faded blue canvas. All her worldly possessions. Truly a reflection of
how much control she had in the relationship that she owned so little outright.
The zip had made a satisfying reverberation as she closed it; the echo of
finality as the bag closed and she threw it over one shoulder, hoisting it
high. “I don’t love you. I’m leaving and
I’m never coming back. You can’t stand me anymore anyway….”
Probably not the words she should have chosen she thought.
But in the heat of the moment, you never say what you really mean. You don’t
believe in me. You treat me like a child, controlling my every move. You don’t
value my opinion or ask for my input.
Any one of these statements would have been more accurate and led to a conversation
that could have resolved their differences. But she couldn’t afford any regrets
now. It was too late for that. And now, she found herself here instead. A new,
much smaller house with a different view. But, as always, with a beautiful garden.
It was filled with bounty and wonder to be explored. She would have to follow
her own rules, instead of those imposed unfairly upon her. Be an adult for a
change and make her own carefully weighed decisions. Like having blueberries straight from the vine
for breakfast. She straightened and reached higher to pluck another and popped
it into her mouth, the tartness bursting across her tongue. She would eat these
for breakfast everyday she decided on a whim.
She really had left things badly. And some of
the points raised in their last argument were valid. She didn’t pick up after
herself at all well, never mind picking up after someone else. It was all too
easy to lose her focus and become distracted from the task she had begun, she
reflected. The baby always needed a change and feed, or a walk in the stroller
to settle her. Her mind was brimming with creativity, and a story was always there
ready to be written if the opportunity of pen and paper presented itself. She
loved to paint and could spend hours swirling colors together on her palette.
It was hypnotic and enthralling and she often lost track of time, spending
longer than those just-five-more minutes she had promised to spend. Still she
didn’t deserve to be talked to like that, yelled at yet again. She remained
firm in her resolve. She would not go back.
She had left her painting supplies behind. Damn. She looked
around at the gnarly old fruit trees lining the garden’s perimeter. They would have made a beautiful painting, the
greens she could have mixed. Olive, forest, sea greens; all her blues mixed
with a touch of yellow. Grabbing another handful of blueberries, she did the
next best thing to painting and nimbly scrambled up into its branches. She felt
child-like and free and soon had scurried higher than she ever thought
possible. The leaves enclosed and welcomed her, a house built just for her,
high in the sky. Holding her safely in its weathered bristly old arms, the tree
cuddled her, calming and soothing her craggy mood. She was back in her father’s
arms, protected and secure. She was sheltered from the rigors of the outside
world, both here and there.
He would not like this, running away from her
problems, she thought. Nothing was more important to him than family, and she
had just given up hers. He had worked endlessly and tirelessly to give her and
her sisters the opportunity to fulfill their dreams, not waste them. He would do
anything for his family; why hadn’t she? If she listened hard, she imagined hearing
him calling to her. “Come back Sweet Pea,
we can work this out together.” But the wind shrilled and gagged his voice, and
she shook the thought right out of her head.
Slowly, gingerly, she began the journey down. The weather
was turning and the shelter of the tree soon gave up to the sharp chill of the
wind. On the ground again, as the drizzle began, the reality of her predicament
hit her. She began to sob. She had never truly been alone before, with just
herself to rely on. How would she survive? The possessions in her bag had
seemed meager before, now they were truly inadequate. She searched around, had
she brought a jacket? Yes, phew. She put it on slowly, struggling with two ends
that just wouldn’t meet no matter how hard she tried. Wet fingers and tears
worsened the struggle.
More blueberries were the answer. Leaving the zip for now, she went back to the vine
only to find it barren. She had stripped it already, handful upon handful taken
absentmindedly. Only a few remained
far from her reach. She strained higher and higher to reach them. They remained
elusive. She jumped to gain a few extra centimeters, but although her fingers
brushed the branch, they pushed it farther from her grasp. Despondent, she
slumped back. I just can’t reach them, she thought. If only I was a little
taller. A little wiser, a little older.
From over her shoulder, a strong, gnarly arm reached out and
plucked the berries with ease, handing them to her. She spun around and
collapsed into him sobbing. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I love you and
Mummy so much.”. In silence he enclosed her and the worry and stress melted
from them both. “ Wow. You are so well prepared out here. I see you brought
your jacket. You don’t need anyone to look after you.” “I do, I doooo” Her
wails were muffled and wet on his shoulder. He turned her slowly and knelt,
looking her straight in her bright blue eyes. “Blueberries for breakfast. What a good
healthy choice. Sweet Pea you have been very brave and clever out here.” Her
face crinkled into a beaming smile of pride. “I have been! And I made myself a home
too.” She showed him the dusty old coal bin where she had carefully laid her
pillow, a blanket and tucked in her baby doll, oh so carefully. “Let’s get all this
back into your bag and into the house” He dusted the sooty bedding and noticed
the blue smear on her t-shirt, peeking out from under her jacket. “Looks like
Mummy has some washing to do. You know…” He hesitated. “Your poor Mummy is
inside crying. She thought you were never coming back. Please don’t run away
again. It broke her heart. Do you think we can go and tell her how sorry you are?” She solemnly considered the request, with all the wisdom
of her five years and nodded in agreement, the regret and pain she had caused
filling her heart. Bravely she slipped her little hand in his and they walked up
the garden path towards their home.
Erin:
It is Christmas. Alice and Rex are decorating the tree.
It is Christmas. Alice and Rex are decorating the tree.
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