The Time of the Nameless

I never thought I’d be who somebody else wanted me to be. A copycat, chameleon, mirror to my surroundings, masterfully blending in with society because I have no face. Nothing to distinguish me by, no special features or talents because I am any and every one all at the same time.

I represent all opinions and judgements, admitting to and committing to not one belief because what do we know? We know nothing for certain and yet we demand that what we know be the fact, and the fact of the matter is you should revel in the beauty of the unknown because it can be anything you want.

Just as I seem to feel the need to conform to those around me, I hide from myself and others in plain sight. So what I look like does not matter. What I do does not matter. All that matters is my character and the present day. And today, I am on a journey through the natural world filled with fresh smells and ambient noises. The perfect escape from the whirlwind of life. Just myself, my thoughts and quiet.

As I approach the peak of my hike, I notice a young girl sitting near the ledge. She’s looking out at the valley below, humming a tune to herself. I don’t want to startle her, but I do want to get her attention.

“Excuse me,” I say with a soft voice.

The girl turns to look at me and smiles, “oh hello!”

I look around trying to see if anybody else is there. “Are you okay? Where are your parents?” I slowly walk closer, careful not to scare her off—even though she looks calmer than I do.

“They’re not here. It’s just you and me,” she says as a matter of fact.

Once I’m near the ledge, I sit about a foot away from the girl and without hesitating she asks, “do you believe in magic?” At first I don’t know what to say.

“I’m not sure, I don’t think I do,” I answer honestly.

“Well, you should. Everything here is magic” the girl looks out at the valley holding her arms open wide.

“Oh yea?” I can’t help but chuckle, she looks so adorable—a little familiar too.

“Yea! All the trees and animals and the mountains. Everything.”

I didn’t want to crush the poor girl’s imagination just yet, so I decide to play along. “Well, what makes this place magical?”

The girl points straight up to the sky with another big smile on her face. My eyes follow her finger, and I see the sun peeking through the tops of the trees.

“The sun?” I ask as I look back down at the girl. She shakes her head no, still pointing up.

“The sky?” I ask again, a little less certain this time.

The girl shakes her head ‘no’ once more. “You do!” she exclaims.

I smile politely and look around at ‘my magical kingdom’.

“And how do I make it—” But when I turned back toward the girl she was gone.

Frantic, I crawled to the edge of the cliff to see if there were any signs of her. Thankfully there wasn’t. At the same time I couldn’t help but wonder where she could’ve gone?

I guess I’ll head back down and hopefully I’ll see her along the way. I stand to make my departure but look around one last time. Satisfied that I don’t see anything, I make my way back to the path I came on.

About halfway down I still haven’t seen the girl, and I have to reason with the negative thoughts that are trying to linger in my mind. Maybe she’s with her parents, or maybe she found someone else to follow or something. I also can’t help but contemplate why she looked so familiar to me. Where have I seen her before? How long ago did I see her?

My thoughts are interrupted by a distant giggle. I stop in my tracks to listen and make sure I’m not hearing things, but sure enough I hear it again. It’s coming from up ahead. I pick up the pace but watch my steps as I quickly descend the path.

A few minutes later, I came around a clearing of trees and there sitting in the opening is the little girl. She’s painting on an easel and wearing a matching cap and apron to complete her artist look.

“Little girl” I call out as I approach her.

She turns to reveal the trees that she’s painting.

“Do you like my painting?” She asks proudly.

“I sure do, you paint very well,” I admit as I crouch down next to her.

“When I grow up, I’m going to be an artist.” The girl looked so excited and so certain of herself. I hated what I felt I had to do next.

“Well kid, things don’t always go as planned. The world sometimes gets in the way of your dreams, so just make sure you have a back up plan. You know like something else to do just in case this doesn’t work out.” The words tasted like vomit as I spit them from my mouth.

The very same words my mother shared with me as a child every time I’d try to show off some new piece of artwork. Nonetheless, the advice she gave was realistic back then, and it definitely saved me from a lot of heartache and setbacks. At least that’s what I tell myself.

The little girl looked disappointed, she frowned and put her paint supplies down. I was afraid she was going to cry, so I put one hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin with the other until our eyes met.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but that’s just how life is. Sometimes you have to compromise on certain things.”

“Is that what you did?”

I wasn’t expecting that question.

“Umm, no. I didn’t compromise. I just, changed direction is all…” I let my hand fall from the girl’s shoulder but stayed crouched at her level.

“Because you wanted to or because someone else wanted you to?” I felt like the girl was getting a little too bold now, but how could she even know that?

I scoffed and struggled to find a response. “I, uh, I did it for—”

“You can’t even admit it to yourself. That you did this. This is your fault!” The girls anger caught me by surprise. What’s her deal?

“Woah now,” I place both hands on her shoulders this time. I can’t tell if she’s trying to be brutally honest or just plain mean. Either way, who is she to get mad at my life choices. Who is she?

“Let’s take a deep breath, okay?” The girl looked like she was near tears, anger flaming in her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” I didn’t want whatever was happening to continue to worsen, but as I was thinking of a way to deescalate the situation she suddenly yelled out, “you’re what’s wrong! Look at this place,” the girl looked up and all around as she continued, “This place was beautiful. It was your dream. Anything you could think of. Everything you wished for. Gone!” I was mortified by her outburst.

“No, no it’s not, it’s right—” I looked around and just as the girl said, there was nothing surrounding them. Only the easel and the two of them encircled in total darkness. I’m so confused, how is this happening? What’s going on?

The little girl is rubbing her eyes crying now and I do the only thing I can think that will help calm her. I give her a big hug and hold her tight.

The little girl relaxes in my arms and slowly stops crying. Eventually, she wraps her arms around me, and we just sit in the embrace for a while.

While still holding on to the girl, I gaze at the painting sitting on the easel. I see green and brown trees with the sun and a mountain painted in the distance, and to the right amongst the trees is… the little girl.

I focus harder on the picture and realize this is an old painting that I made when I was younger, back when I was still allowed to draw and color whenever I wanted. Back when my imagination ran wild with ideas. Before I got into organized sports and academic clubs at the behest of my parents.

I release the little girl, and she began to wipe her tears away with a small handkerchief from her pocket.

“Who are you?” I finally ask as the little girl finishes wiping her face.

She looks at me and with a small smile and a soft voice says, “you.”

And that’s when I woke up.

That’s the day I realized my whole life had been a sham and there was no way to recover it. Sad, I know, but the truth, nonetheless. Decades spent trying to convince myself of the truths and opinions of others while ignoring the ones that should’ve mattered most, mine.

However, today is a new day and that’s why all the others don’t matter. They had their time to shine, as did the projected expectations of society that were forced upon me. But now it was today’s turn, my turn.

Later that day, I’m a fidgeting mess while I wait to be seen by my hopeful, future employer. I keep trying to rehearse the interview answers I have prepared, but the more I do the more unnatural it sounds. I know I should stop, but I didn’t have time to review it before I left home this morning.

“Miss Hill, Mrs. Burkhart will see you now.” Oh shoot, out of time. I take a deep breath and stand to my feet. My heart is racing, and my hands are clammy, but I just keep reminding myself that this is a good thing, this is what I want, and everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.

I walk into Mrs. Burkhart’s office and she’s sitting behind her desk shuffling through the stack of paintings and portraits that cover it.

“Hello Miss Hill, please take a seat” she says without looking up at me. I do as I’m told and take a seat in one of the chairs sitting opposite of her desk. She analyzes her papers for a few more moments before proceeding.

“Well Miss Hill I must say, your paintings are beautiful, and I love the theme of your portfolio. The colors are vibrant, the point of view is fresh, and I’ll be honest with you, although it is too soon to say for sure, things are looking good for you to be in our spring catalog this year.”

The joy erupts inside of me, and I struggle to hold it all in. “Thank you so much Mrs. Burkhart, you don’t know what it means to hear you say that.”

“You’re quite deserving of the compliment and very welcome… But I do have to ask,” she picks up a piece of paper sitting on top of her stack, “as you know, whoever is chosen for the catalog will also be invited to a 6 month contract on a temp-to-hire basis. And I just want to know, what made you want to change your career? You have no formal education or training working with art or job experience at a studio or museum. The only thing you really have going for yourself right now is this beautiful collection you have presented in your portfolio. So why should I take a chance on you and pick you over the other candidates?”

I paused while I thought of my answer. This was what I was afraid of, this is why I was trying to rehearse my answers. Now I can’t remember any of it. Of all the times for me to draw a blank.

I look down at my fingers and just before I respond, I remember the little girl from my dream last night. I remember me. So confident and so hopeful in the future and what it could bring. I realized I really had nothing to fear because regardless of what this woman said or did, I knew I would find where I fit in and what worked for me. Even if that meant it would happen at a different place or a different time.

I understood, in that moment, my biggest fear was not whether or not I could make my dreams come true but living in a world where there were no dreams to dream.

So I lifted my head and looked Mrs. Burkhart directly in the eyes, understanding finally that there was nothing anyone could do or say to steer me off course again, and I asked one simple question. “Do you believe in magic?”