The Tradegy of Evelyn Harrison

Evelyn Harrison was no stranger in her small town. She was the teacher of the year for three years straight, volunteered at her church on the weekends, made regular donations to charities, always wore bright floral dresses—no matter the season—and was the kindest person one could ever meet. She was loved and admired by everyone in her small town. No one had an ounce of ill will towards her, but the whole town was concerned with one thing: she was a lonely woman.

She spent her days and nights serving others, seemingly having no time for herself. This bothered many of the townsfolk because they simply could not imagine such a perfect woman going to waste. Of course, she had suitors lined up outside her classroom, dressed in their best clothes and holding flowers, desperately trying to capture her attention. But, each time, she would give them a beautiful smile and in her soothing southern accent tell them, “I’m very flattered, but I am not interested.” This frustrated some of the townsfolk because the men were well off and came from good families. Over time, it seemed perhaps Ms. Harrison simply preferred to be alone. 

Of course, this was only a partial truth. She was a very lonely woman who had too much of herself to give, and so she spent her time with others. It was the only way to keep the suffocating loneliness at bay. She denied each of the suitors because she felt that they did not want her for who she was, but rather, who she could be.

One hot summer day when she was teaching summer school, the students walked into her classroom. On her desk was a vase filled with red and yellow lilies. Though she always greeted them with a smile, she was bubbly and happy in a way that was just...strange. She seemed to float around the room, her cheeks rosy red from smiling so much, and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

She attempted to continue the class as normal but struggled to pay attention. She kept getting a dazed look in her eyes, giggling to herself, and losing her train of thought. And so, she canceled class early. This behavior continued for a week, intriguing and concerning the townsfolk. It was clear the woman was madly in love, but with whom? It certainly wasn’t someone in town, or if it was, it was a well-kept secret. 

The townsfolk became too curious for their own good, and carefully instructed their children on how to gently probe Ms. Harrison. 

Ms. Harrison finished watering the lilies on her desk and began to float around the room, handing back assignments. Each paper, regardless of the quality, had a perfect score, scribbled in red ink in the top right corner. 

“Ms. Harrison,” one girl squeaked out, “why are you so happy today?”

Ms. Harrison laughed an airy, happy laugh. She sat on the edge of her dark brown wooden desk, next to the lilies, and straightened her purple skirt. She cleared her voice, crossed her legs, and folded her hands over her knees. 

"Well, children, I have fallen in love!” she exclaimed, sniffing a lily. Ms. Harrison looked as though she struggled to sit still, folding and unfolding her hands. The class responded with excitement and curiosity. 

“What does he look like?” one shouted. 

“How did you meet?” asked another. 

“Who is he?” one shouted, struggling to be heard above their classmates. 

Unable to contain her excitement and joy any longer, she jumped up from her desk and grabbed a lily out of the vase, clutching it to her chest. She opened a window, allowing the warm summer breeze to fill the room.

“I suppose we have time for a story,” she teased with a wide smile.

The class, in part curious of their own free will, and partially fulfilling the directions of their parents, shouted with excitement. Holding the flower to her cheek, smiling wider than ever, she sat back on her desk. 

“Very well, I shall tell you. But you must contain your excitement!” she instructed. And then she told them. 

***

She walked quickly down the grocery aisle while looking at her list:  

Eggs

Milk

Strawberries

Sugar

Flour—self-rising

Butter

She crossed items off her list while she walked, the basket growing heavy on her arm, its handles digging into her skin. Her heels clicked and echoed down the aisle. She needed to hurry and gather these ingredients for the church bake sale—she was already behind schedule. 

She was not watching where she was walking, and in her haste, collided with a person. She stumbled back in surprise, and there was a clatter as a tray of eggs fell onto the floor onto their shoes. Her face turned beet red from embarrassment. She set her basket on the ground and began to apologize profusely, her voice shaking. 

“I am—I am terribly sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going—if your shoes are ruined, I can pay for them,” she stammered. And, instead of yelling or being upset, the stranger simply laughed. He turned to look at her. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She was born and raised in this small town and had never seen this man before. He had curly brown hair and stormy grey eyes. 

“No worries,” he laughed, stepping out of the puddle of egg yolks, “Some people say eggs are good for leather.”

She gave an embarrassed smile and tried to pick up her basket. 

“Here, allow me,” he offered.

Her heart skipped a few beats as he bent over and picked up her basket, the bottom of which was dripping with eggs. He handed it to her with a smile. Flustered, she took the basket, cleared her voice, and pointed her chin up slightly, attempting to recover and hide her shame. “Thank you. Say, I know every face in this small town, and I know you aren’t from around here. Passing through?” she said in her sweet southern accent. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“More like looking for a new place to live. Say, are all the townsfolk as clumsy as you?” he teased. 

Her heart raced and she laughed an awkward, flattered laugh. “Well, I hope not! Tell me, stranger, what’s your name?”

“John,” he stated, extending his hand. 

“I’m Evelyn, the teacher here. If you consider moving here, I recommend coming down to the church bake sale later today. It’ll be a great chance to meet the community—and try my famous strawberry muffins,” she said, winking flirtatiously.

“I’m looking forward to it!” he exclaimed. 

She smiled nervously and scurried to another aisle. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach; she was lightheaded and dizzy from joy. A smile spread across her face that, no matter how hard she tried, she simply could not get rid of it. She walked down the aisles smiling like a fool, giggling to herself, thinking back to their conversation—she was in a state of euphoria. 

Later, in the parking lot, while she loaded her groceries into the trunk of her car, still smiling foolishly, a voice called out her name. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned and found John, walking briskly across the parking lot, with a bouquet of lilies in his hands. 

“For you.”

***

After she finished the story, she held the lily to her nose, breathing deeply and closing her eyes, letting out a large, relaxed sigh. They shouted questions and comments, begging her to tell them more. Her eyes opened, she placed the lily in the vase, stood, and raised her hands. 

“Shhhh,” she said, quelling the children. “That is all we have time for today. Tomorrow, I will tell you more. Class dismissed!” she said, smiling, clasping her hands in front of her.

That night, they told their parents about the stranger who had captured the heart of the small-town sweetheart. Like their children, they were unsatisfied with the ending. They needed more details. What’s more, all the adults had been at the church bake sale. They were there All the adults were at the bakesale when Evelyn showed up late with her freshly baked strawberry muffins and not once did they see the stranger.

Once the students were seated in class the next day, they did not wait long to ask more questions. 

Like before, their questions were in part due to the careful coaching of their parents, but also their own burning curiosity. And much like before, she sat at the edge of the desk, clutching a wilted lily to her chest fondly, refusing to speak until the class was dead silent—something easily accomplished. 

***

They took their seats at the local diner in a cushioned booth. Evelyn was wearing her favorite white dress decorated with bluebells and ladybugs. She was anxious and had to resist the urge to pick at her clothing every couple of seconds. Evelyn crossed her legs and sat on her hands to avoid fidgeting. She looked at John, unable to maintain eye contact for long. Their eyes met for a moment, before hers darted away, focusing on her plate. She offered him a small smile without meeting his eyes. John seemed confident and sure of himself, which only made her more nervous. He gave her a confident smile. He did not fidget or restrain himself, and his posture was relaxed: he slouched slightly,  his elbows rested on the stained table, and he leaned forward. 

They gave their order to the waitress and began to make small talk. At first, it was awkward. She worried she may say the wrong thing, talk too much, or otherwise irritate him. But, as the night went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. 

“So,” Evelyn said between bites, “where are you coming from?”

“California. I’m fed up with the busy city life—I want something simpler.”

“My, that’s a long way away! How much longer do you plan on being in town? There’s a lot here I think you’d enjoy.”

“Well, I’ve got about a day or so left before I have to head home—pet sitters are expensive!” he laughed. “But I plan on being back in a few weeks. Maybe you can show me around town then,” he said with a smile and a wink. 

She felt herself melt in her seat. And for the rest of the night, they talked over everything and anything. She learned that they both enjoyed reading horror novels, they both loved gardening and that he was allergic to walnuts. His favorite food was apple pie, and he hates squashes. The night flew by, and they were at the diner until the sun rose. 

***

Like before, she sniffed the lily, whose leaves were starting to fall off and let loose a sigh of relaxation and happiness. The class was silent, but when they spoke, they all had the same question:

“When will he be back?” they asked. 

She smiled and began to twirl around the room. 

“Why, he’ll be here tonight! And we are going to the community garden to admire the roses!” she laughed. 

The students ran home to their parents to tell them the exciting news. They were overjoyed at the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the man who could steal Ms. Harison's unattainable heart. The parents got together and agreed to go out and hide in the garden in a small group—no more than three—and spread themselves throughout the area. Surely, they would catch a glimpse of him! 

And while they waited for her car to leave her driveway they went to Silvia, the waitress, hoping she could answer their remaining questions about the stranger. 

But when they knocked on her door and interrupted her afternoon nap, they were beyond disappointed. 

“Listen, I wouldn’t remember if my own husband ate at the diner at night—we get very busy.”

Disappointed, they sat by their phones, anxiously waiting for the call that meant Evelyn had left her home. 

When their phones rang, they jumped into action. The night was silent, interrupted only by the gentle chirping of the crickets, and gentle cool summer breeze. They hid in the bushes for hours, nearly until sunrise, but she never arrived. 

The next day, the children asked her about John, and she was euphoric, holding a dying lily in her hand while she spoke. 

“Oh, it was marvelous! We spoke all night long! The moonlight—the roses—the night breeze—all of it—so beautiful!” she shouted. Not one child dared to inform Ms. Harrison that their parents had attempted to spy on her, and they did not hear a sound.

*** 

This continued into the Fall. Ms. Harrison talked about John every spare moment she could find, and the townsfolk were starting to go insane.  One day in October, she arrived in class with a sparkling diamond engagement ring. The class gasped in response, in a mixture of awe, surprise, and admiration. She knew exactly what they would ask, and she sat on her desk and held the shriveled, brown, dead lily to her chest. She admired the ring, holding it into the sunlight that leaked in through the window, allowing the gem to sparkle and shine, and showing it off to her students before she began her story.

***

She came home after a long day of teaching and grading and gently closed her red door behind her. Like she does every night, she took her heels off by the door before proceeding any further. When she bent over to do so, she noticed a trail of rose petals. She let out a small gasp and brought a hand over her heart, an expression of shock and love spreading across her face. She followed the trail of petals through the dimly lit house. The petals formed a path that was outlined by candles. She followed them up her carpeted staircase, tears brimming in her emerald-green eyes. 

The petals led into her bedroom and onto the bed. They were scattered over the white sheets, and the smell of scented candles filled the air, complementing the rosy musk. At the center of the bed was a small velvet box. From behind her, he spoke. 

“Will you marry me?”

***

She ended the story there for her students. No matter how hard she could have tried, she would never be able to convey to them the pure joy and happiness she had felt. She could not explain the sheer number of tears that escaped her eyes as she struggled to whisper, “Yes.” She could never describe the intensity of her emotions. Even if she could, she couldn’t have done it with dry eyes and a clear voice. So, she simply did not bother. 

The students ran home and announced the startling but good news. The next day, Ms. Harrison did not show up to class but spent her day hand-delivering invitations to her engagement party. It quickly became the talk of the town. Though they were excited that the town angel had finally given her heart away to somebody who would cherish her, they were more excited to finally meet John. 

***

When the day of the party arrived, everyone dressed their best, ready to see the man that stole Ms.Harrison’s heart.

Was he rich?

Did he go to church?

Was he older? Younger?

They had so many questions that Ms. Harrison never addressed, no matter how much she talked about him. They arrived that evening elaborately dressed to an elaborately decorated house. They looked around in amazement. Evelyn had hired music and luxury catering companies from the nearest city. They served champagne and wine on silver platters; all sorts of fancy foods the townsfolk had never heard of before. She was dressed in a beautiful silk evening gown—there was no way she could have afforded this on her own. 

Though they partied all night long, none of them saw John. They stayed until the minute the party ended hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it was all in vain. 

As they left her home sometime after midnight, they passed by the kitchen, where they heard her sing-songy laugh echo in the kitchen. 

“I love you,” she said joyfully. There was no response.

They paused, debating on walking into the kitchen. They decided to instead give her privacy as they heard a glass being put down on the counter and Evelyn begin to laugh. 

“Stop it!” she giggled and screamed playfully. 

They closed the door behind them with a smile. 

***

It wasn’t long before they received wedding invitations, scheduled for July, the month they had met. Evelyn showed off her ring to anyone who dared to listen. She would stare at her ring and talk about how in love she was, and how John was her true love, her soul mate. 

The town was overjoyed that the lonely woman had found a companionship that brought her so much joy. They could not wait for the wedding.

On the day of the wedding, her bridesmaids came to help her get ready. They knocked on the door, and there was no answer but her car was in the driveway. They thought she might just be in the shower, getting ready for her big day. They turned the brass doorknob slightly, testing to see if it was locked. When they found it wasn’t, they pushed the door open slowly, announcing their presence. The house was silent and dark. The group made their way up the stairs to begin setting up make-up and hair stations. 

They froze in the doorway as they entered her bedroom. Their hands flew to their chests or mouths, and tears brimmed in their eyes. There she was, as beautiful as ever, in her beautiful wedding gown, holding a lily, turning to dust in her hand.  

There she was, in her gown, lily in hand, beautiful as ever—hanging from the ceiling.