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Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

Many girls are pretty,

But none like Mary Lou

           

          Justice Okeke sat by the window of the treehouse at his summer home staring at the girl tending to the little hedge separating his house and his neighbor’s. Mary Lou tended to the hedge every day after school and on weekends making sure her family’s side of the hedge was spick and span. Justice’s family, however, couldn’t care less about how shabby their side of the hedge looked. His father had always complained about the hedge, wishing he was able to construct a high fence around his house like the one at his former home in Nigeria.  His mother wasn’t too enthusiastic about it either because to her it was just a barrier of twigs and leaves. Any dimwit with middle-school knowledge could cut through it with a pair of shears. Basically, it didn’t offer much protection and wasn’t very high (It was around 4 feet tall). Anyone could jump over it provided they put in the effort. The only person who wasn’t bothered by the hedge was Justice himself since his family only ever used that house in the summer, so he didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about. Besides, the hedges’ height allowed him to see Mary Lou’s face as she tended to the hedge. He watched her as she gently poured water on the roses on top of the hedge, as though to prevent their delicate petals from being damaged. Even though deep down he wished to speak with her, he was content with simply observing her from afar. He got out a sketchpad from his desk drawer and began to draw her. He would’ve been delighted to paint a portrait of Mary Lou rather than draw one but his parents would not buy artistic materials for him. They already had plans for his future and none of those plans required artistic skills of any kind. The members of Justice’s family (excluding the parents) all had three options on which direction they’d be headed in life:

1.      Become a doctor or work in the field of medicine.

2.      Become an engineer. Any field of engineering would do.

If, however, anyone were to go against the first two options they were presented with a third.

3.      Homeless.

                   Unfortunately, his parents were dead serious about the last part. Justice knew that all too well. As he drew the outline of Mary’s hair his thoughts wandered to his older sister who was left back in Nigeria.

       About five years ago, just before his family was to move to Britain, Justices’ parents disowned their daughter, Lisa, for going against their wishes of her becoming a medical doctor. He remembered the incident vividly; Lisa had scored the highest marks in the nationwide college entrance exams and received public recognition for her achievements. She was very talented musically and had also received many musical awards under the alias, Lisa Lisa. She used an alias because she knew her parents would not approve of what she was doing. Her father, Mr. Okeke, who was a former general in the army and fought in the Nigerian Civil War, was extremely proud of her and even offered to take her on a vacation to Paris as a reward. Just him and her. However, on the day of the flight, Lisa told her parents of her plan to sign a contract into a record company and make her debut as an artist. She told them of all the music awards she had received and she hoped her parents would support her decision. They were at the airport when she told them all this. Her father took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes and asked her, calmly, if that was her final decision.

                She nodded in affirmation. The whole family, who had escorted Lisa to the airport, stood in the middle of the terminal dumbfounded. Mrs. Okeke shed tears because she knew she had invested a lot of money into Lisa’s education. Mr. Okeke frowned at his daughter, his face contorted with anger. He landed a heavy slap across her face and for a moment it seemed as if total silence fell upon the airport. After a few seconds of eternity had passed by, Mr. Okeke reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card. He pushed it, along with the two flight tickets into his daughter’s hands. As he walked away, he told her not to return to the house until she was ready to change her mind. Lisa closed her tear-filled eyes and walked briskly away towards the waiting area. She didn’t look back, she didn’t say goodbye. She simply boarded the plane and left for Paris. A week passed. Then two. Then three months and Lisa had still not returned. After six months of waiting Mr. Okeke moved his family to Britain and none of them saw Lisa again.

      A strong breeze blew into the treehouse spraying dust everywhere. The breeze made the window shut with a loud noise, startling Justice, and interrupting his thoughts. Justice dusted off the sheet of paper he was drawing on and held it up, examining his work from top to bottom and checking for mistakes. He continued to draw.

   His thoughts went back to his sister. Even though he hadn’t seen her in five years they communicated often via email and social networking platforms. It was she who bought the art materials for Justice. Although she wanted to buy him more, she was reluctant as she didn’t wish for him to share the same fate as her.

    Justice dusted off his drawing and held it up once more, his eyes scanning the sheet of paper for any mistakes. Once he was satisfied with the work he opened up the window so he could see Mary Lou again. Unfortunately, it was raining so that offered an explanation as to why she wasn’t outside. Justice sighed and stuck his hand out the window, feeling the cold drops of rainwater ran down his palm and off his fingertips. He hated how it never rained heavily in Britain as if the clouds were too lazy to send down a decent shower. His father often joked that every day in Britain looked like a bad day to go camping.

      He leaned against the window and stared at the spot where Mary stood just a moment ago. He wondered what she did when she wasn’t tending to the hedge. I wonder if she’s a reader, he said to himself.  Just as he was about to close the windows, something caught his eye. He spotted a pair of glasses sitting on the hedge. Those must be Mary’s, he thought. He rummaged around his drawer and picked up a hard-cover notebook and then ran down the treehouses’ ladder and toward the hedge. He covered his head with the notebook to avoid getting wet by the rain. He picked up the glasses and examined the frame; it was a wooden frame made from high-quality mahogany, with intricate floral designs carved onto its sides. He looked around to see if he could spot her but it was no use. He made up his mind to return it once it stopped raining.


             

               

     Justice woke up a few hours later, trying to clear away the dust that glued his eyelids shut. The sandman did a number on me, he thought. He checked his watch for the time: 2:22pm. For a short while he almost forgot he had taken a nap in his treehouse. He looked out the window, wondering if he’d find Mary Lou outside. Sure enough, she was at the hedge looking for her glasses. Although she was very beautiful, Justice thought she looked better with her glasses on. He picked the pair of glasses off the desk and tried them on. They were a bit small and he noticed they weren’t medicated. Maybe my eyes don’t react with them, he thought.

       He climbed down the treehouse ladder and walked as casually as he could towards the far end of the hedge, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted. Unfortunately, he was quickly spotted. Fortunately, Mary was too worked up to pay more attention so she waved half-heartedly. Justice crawled along the side of the hedge, hand. He reached the spot where Mary Lou kept the glasses. Finally. He was going to quickly drop it atop of the hedge and run away but he noticed a hole at the bottom of the place where the most roses were clustered. It was quite big, at least big enough for a small rabbit to pass through with no issues. He tore out a piece of paper from the notebook, took out a pen from his pocket, and jotted something down. He then wrapped the glasses in the paper and passed it through the hole.

   Mary Lou walked along her side of the hedge, searching for her glasses. She was starting to get worried because she couldn’t believe she had been careless enough to leave her glasses out in the rain. The frames could get damaged, she thought. After a while she noticed something poking out the side of the hedge. She picked it up, and Lo and behold it was her glasses wrapped in a piece of paper. She read the contents:

              “I noticed your glasses were on the hedge when the rain started so I picked it up so it wouldn’t get damaged by the rain. I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

Mary Lou smiled. She tried peeking over the fence to see if the person who left the note was still there. She spotted a pair of feet on the other side of the hedge which confirmed her suspicions. For some reason she had a pen in her shirt pocket. She took it out and wrote something on the piece of paper

  

 “Thank you for returning my glasses. They’re really precious to me.”


    She dropped the note at the mouth of the hole and watched it disappear as Justice pulled it through the other end. She sat down on the floor and leaned against the hedge, wondering if that was how she was going to converse with the person on the other side.  Justice admired her beautiful handwriting. So elegant and cursive. Compared to hers, his were those of a grade-schooler with bad handwriting.


Justice: You’re welcome. I thought they’d get damaged by the rain so I took them. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble.

ML: No, not at all. I was a little worried because I thought someone stole them and I meant to come over and ask about it but it’s alright now.

Justice: Thank goodness. Glad it all worked out.

ML: Yeah. Thanks again.


Justice stared at Mary’s last entry for a while. He wanted to keep the conversation going but he was too shy to talk face to face. Maybe I’ll start with a simple introduction first, he thought. He wrote down some words and passed the note into the hole.


Justice: I’m Justice. What’s your name?


Justice sat by the hedge waiting. One second had passed. Two seconds had passed. Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no reply. He wondered if she was even still there. Just as he was about to run out, the note was passed through the hole. Justice quickly picked it and read what she wrote.


ML: I’m sorry for the late reply. My mom sent me on an errand so that kept me busy for a while. I’m Mary Lou, but you can call me Mary. Nice to meet you, Justice. I don’t see you around here often.

Justice: I understand, it’s cool. Oh yeah, that’s because this is my family’s summer home. My grandparents live near here so we come here every year to be close to them.

ML: I see. I kind of understand that. Although, with my family my granddad always comes over every summer. He’s quite of a handful, I have to admit.

Justice: I can relate. My grandparents live a few blocks away, so whenever we go visit them they always insist we walk back here and have lunch. Then we walk them back to their place before we finally drive home. Even though I enjoy walking with them, it always seems like a chore because of the distance we have to walk. How about your grandmother? Is she a handful too?

ML: My grandmother passed away a year ago. Those glasses you found were a present from her. She wasn’t really scared of dying; she saw it as something everyone must go through to complete the course of their life. I’m sorry if I’m being too morbid. If you don’t mind, that is. Tell me about yourself. You seem like a very shy person. How old are you?

Justice: Oh no! I should be sorry; I didn’t mean to be nosy.  I’m sorry for your loss, though. I’m seventeen. Born in August. Don’t worry, I won’t ask yours since it’s impolite to ask a ladies age.


Justice heard a loud laugh come from the other side of the fence. He wondered what she found so funny. The note came back to his side of the fence.


ML: You’re pretty funny. It’s perfectly fine for one to ask for a ladies age. Provided the lady is a human though. It’d be weird asking a female cat her age, don’t you think? I’m the same age as you. Born in June, though. I guess this makes me your senior lol (PS: I hope it isn’t weird for me to use internet acronyms. It’s not like we’re texting online or anything)

Justice: You can use whatever internet acronym you want. You’re pretty funny yourself, if I may say so. Do you have any siblings? And yes, it’d be weird asking a cat her age.

ML: I’m an only child, unfortunately. Contrary to popular belief, kids with only child status aren’t always spoilt rotten. If I had even one sibling I’d have someone to share chores with. But instead I get stuck with chores like kitchen duty and buying groceries. Do you have any siblings?

Justice: Yes, I actually do. Unfortunately. Even though I’m the second son, I’m the first male child so that’s still a bundle of responsibility on its own.


Mary Lou giggled when she received the note. The conversation was turning out to be very interesting. They talked about many things: their school life, their hobbies, their pets. What really piqued Justice’s interest was Mary’s appreciation of Lisa Lisa’s music (Justice, however, didn’t mention that he was related to Lisa Lisa).

    And so the afternoon wore on into the evening, with notes being exchanged by the two teens the whole time. They only realized how long they had spent outside when the sun had finally set. It was around 9pm when the sun had finally set. They then talked about how it was annoying that the sun set so late in the summertime and rose around 5am. After a while they both went inside, not because it was late, but rather that they were summoned back indoors by their parents. Justice took the notes they’d been writing into his room. He read them over and over again, smiling to himself. On the last note she sent, a phone number was written at the back. Besides that she wrote something else:

“Call me anytime, Justice.”

Justice lay down on his bed, smiling to himself. He’d call her tomorrow. Or maybe they’d exchange notes again. ‘Who knows? That’s what tomorrow is for,’ he thought. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a dream: He and Mary Lou stood by the hedge, talking. Her jet-black hair turned as pink as the petals that grew on the hedge. She took off her glasses and put them on Justice. He then stared into her eyes; those glistening brown eyes the color of polished mahogany.


April 24, 2020 21:35

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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