Iris

That’s the thing about this city...nothing about it has been the same since that night. The night - twenty years ago - that my life was forever changed; the night that I watched the man who was supposed to be my father walk out on my mom and me after beating her until her face was unrecognizable. He stumbled out of the doorway and into the street leaving the woman he had vowed to love and protect in a pile of blood and tears. He threw us away that night. Moments before, I lay on top of her - shielding her from his blows. I was convinced he was going to kill her, but I knew that there was some sort of humanity inside that would keep him from hitting me. He never laid a hand on me, and, so, I threw the entirety of my body over my mother’s, held my breath, and closed my eyes as tight as I could. It may have been the adrenaline; it may have just been my naivety at only ten years old; maybe it was the fact that a boy had given me a flower earlier, and with that small gesture, I had felt safe for once - but I had no reservations and no doubt about my decision to be her savior that night. 

“Hey…” 

I hear a voice coming from some distance that I can’t quite measure.

“Hey...girl. Didn’t you say you were getting off here?” A guy in some official looking t-shirt is shaking me awake. I guess maybe he works for the train I’m riding into the city. I guess I had mentioned “my business in the city” when boarding, but I didn’t think those guys actually listen when they’re helping passengers to their seats. 

“Are you getting off, or what?” His name is printed on the pocket on his shirt - Duncan, and he’s visibly annoyed.

“Sorry, yes. I must’ve fallen asleep, and I can’t quite gather my thoughts. Thanks.” I reply while snatching my bag from the seat beside me. 

I step off of the train and a feeling of uneasiness sets over me. I don’t even know why I came back. I hate this city. I hate the way it smells. I hate the way it sounds. I hate that every time I am here or I see its name...I think of that night. I just have to get through today and tomorrow, and then, I can go back to the quiet. 

I map out the route in my head while mindlessly scrolling social media outside of the train station. I am only a few blocks away from a diner, and I should eat. I don’t really want to eat, but my stomach is reminding me that I haven’t since boarding the train yesterday morning. After grabbing some food, I can take a car to my hotel. I could stay at the old house, but when Mom died, I never came back. I own it now, but I should really just sell it. So, food and then the hotel to change and meet with the lawyer. I can’t imagine that waste of a human actually had anything to leave me, but I’ll find out in a few hours. 

“Booth or counter?” A warm voice says out of seemingly nowhere.

“...huh?” I blink, and I’m standing in front of a middle aged waitress who is wearing some pink version of a 1950’s diner uniform.

“Would you like to sit in a booth or at the counter, honey?” she says.

“Oh, uh, a booth would be great.” and I follow her while making sure to not make eye contact with any of the other patrons. 

Once I sit down, I take in the old diner. I hadn’t been here since I left the city. Mom was dead, and I had left quickly - as soon as the police cleared the scene. I was sixteen, and he was on his way to pick me up. I remember thinking “fuck this”, and I packed my backpack with a couple of t-shirts, Mom’s opal ring, my journal, and my flower - before she was beaten that night, she helped me press it in a book. I slung the backpack over my shoulder, and I was gone. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew that I would never go anywhere with the man who caused Mom so much hurt. I grabbed a donut at this diner that evening before taking the train to a different state, and I haven’t been back in this city since…

“Coffee?” a voice chimes in - but it isn’t the warm voice of the waitress.

“No tha…” I glance up, and recognize the eyes looking back at me. “Do I know you?”

“You were on the train. I work for the train company. My name is Duncan.” He smiles and leans forward a bit. But now that I was looking at him a bit closer, there was something even more familiar...more intriguing about him. 

“Do you work here too?” I smile back. Oh my god, am I flirting?

“Ha, no. I was asking if I could buy you a coffee.” 

“Oh, um. I’m not planning on staying long..but coffee sounds nice.” 

Duncan sits down across from me and places his hands awkwardly on the table. I can tell he’s nervous, and I can’t shake the feeling that I know him beyond the train. 

The waitress comes to the table and fills the empty white cups that have been sitting on the placemats since I sat down. I order a breakfast special, and Duncan keeps stealing glances at me. 

Once the waitress dismisses herself, Duncan sharply inhales, “so, you said you were tying up some family stuff..?”

“I did?” I am in shock. Why would I be so open with someone in passing? 

“You did. Are you okay?” He seems genuinely concerned. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mind is just not quite here. Someone in my family passed.” Why am I telling this guy so much?

“Ah, so you’re from the city?” He was beginning to warm up knowing that I’m not some outsider. Normally, I’d feel uncomfortable with someone knowing anything about my life, but for some reason, this seems okay. Duncan seems safe. 

“I don’t call it home, if that’s what you mean.” My eyes shift to the table, and the world feels loose from my body.

“I didn’t mean to offend. I’m sorry.” Just then, our waitress sits our plates down, and I remember how hungry I really am. Talk about impeccable timing. 

We eat quietly. I know that my reaction to a simple question has put Duncan in a particularly uneasy place, but I want nothing to do with the city. I can’t just explain the amount of abuse I endured as a child to a guy I just met - let alone how traumatized I am from it. But for some reason, I want to tell him. 

Once we’re finished, our plates are cleared, and Duncan clears his throat. 

“I can’t help but notice your necklace. Did you make it?” He motions towards the pendant hanging around my neck. I smile. This is one piece of my childhood that makes me smile: the boy.

“Oh, this.” I touch the pendant, “I did. It’s a small flower I was given as a girl by a boy who lived down the block. He gave it to me on a day I didn’t realize I’d need it. My mother helped me press it in a book, and a few years later, I created this necklace out of it. It’s my favorite piece of jewelry because he was one good piece of this city. I can keep that memory close with this.” I squeeze the pendant gently before letting it fall to my chest.

Duncan smiles and looks up at me. 

“It’s an iris, isn’t it? Do you know what those stand for?” He asks while taking a sip of coffee.

“Ya know, I never even took the time to look into it. I just know what it means to me, and that was enough.” What is he? Some kind of flower expert?

“An iris stands for courage and hope. That boy must’ve knew you needed it more than he did. When I was growing up, I had some really dark days and having hope was really difficult. Sometimes finding something to remind me to have courage helped me get through those times.” His voice was shaky as he told me about his past. When his eyes met mine, that familiar feeling returned. 

“Are you from the city?” I’m not even sure why the question escaped me, but I felt compelled to ask.

“Born and raised. I moved away for a bit, but I come back whenever the train stops. I grew up over on Marigold Avenue.” He gestures to the left, but I catch myself listening to the music playing in the background. It hits me: Marigold Avenue. 

“What did you just say?” My face is hot.

“I grew up on Marigold Avenue..?”

“When?! Is this some kind of joke?!” I can feel my heart pumping. My head feels heavy. My stomach plummets to the floor.

“No..no..why would I joke about where I grew up?” He looks genuinely confused by my reaction. Calm down. 

“Duncan, when you were a kid, did you play with a little girl down the street who told you her dad died in the war?” I can feel my face turning red. Of course I told my friends he died. He did to me.

Duncan looked at me with eyes wide and nearly choked on his coffee.

I put my head in my hands and sighed, “Well, he didn’t die in the war. He drank himself into a stupor and fell off of his roof last week. I guess that’s his karma for nearly killing my mom twenty years ago. That’s why I’m here - to see what the piece of garbage left me. Then I’ll be gone. I’m sorry we couldn’t catch up on better terms, but it’s probably for the best. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I’m sorry. I’m fucking broken, Donny.” I get up quickly to leave, but his hand catches me. I can’t catch my breath, and he embraces me. 

I didn’t know him as Duncan. He went by Donny. I didn’t even know his real name was Duncan. He wasn’t just a boy who gave me a flower. He was a boy who gave me a chance, a family, and love. Donny was my first love, and when I left when I was sixteen, I slipped away without saying goodbye. 

Donny takes my head in his hands, “Audrey…” tears are welling in his eyes, “I thought you ran off and ended up dead. When your mom died, I came by your house to see if you needed anything - but you were gone. I don’t care that you lied about your dad when we were kids. I’m just so happy to see you despite the circumstances. Just...Audrey, just come here. I will always be here if you need me - even as a memory.” He pulls me closer, and I feel safe again. 

“Honey...hey...honey…” I can smell coffee and bacon.

“Huh...what?” I jolt awake in the diner.

“You looked so tired and cozy, and I didn’t want to wake you. But, we are closing soon. Would you like anything to go? I can get ya some coffee in a to-go cup.” The waitress is smiling warmly.

“Oh, uh, no, thank you. Do you know where the man that was with me happened to go? I’m sorry if I made too much of a scene earlier. We just found out we’re long lost friends.” I am beaming with joy. I found Donny!

“I’m sorry, honey. You came in alone, sat alone, and have been sleeping for a good hour. No one has been with you.” The waitress frowns a bit and walks away. 

I grab my pendant and feel it between my index finger and thumb. 

Thanks for protecting me, Donny. I’ll see you again. 

I throw a tip on the table, grab my backpack, and leave the diner. Fuck this city and everything it’s taken from me: my childhood, my mother, Donny…

I can’t wait to go back to the quiet.