Passing Time

The sunflowers had bloomed the week prior, the heat pulling them higher with each passing day, touching the sky with what seemed to be sheer elegance. Claire admired them as she slowly paced the perimeter of the garden, her fingertips grazing the tops of the purple hull peas. The breeze picked up a bit, pulling strands of her blond hair from her back braid and guiding them in an unsynchronized dance. It delivered a scent of the gardenia from the back porch to the far end of the garden where she now stood watching the birds sway in and out, weaving intricate patterns. She had always loved gardenia, it was a beautiful flower and smelled sweet like momma. 

I watched her through the dirt-spattered glass that served as my window to my bedroom fort that I had begged her to help me with before she left the swing door clapping in my face. With hurt feelings I tried to push myself to follow in her footsteps out towards the empty chicken houses through ankle deep grass in bare feet, but I was not in the mood for sweat and bugs. I would rather be in my room creating my own world to escape to, much like the garden was hers. The two of us used to set up royal tea parties and sail our imaginary ship through loch ness infested lagoons. Things were different now though. All alone on a deserted island, I searched for a rescue.

It seemed that hours had passed since Claire had darted away from the soon to be tear filled eyes of her little sister. She despised herself for being so harsh with her at times. Things had changed since mama had passed and Claire just wanted to run, all of the time. Running away started trickling through her mind, sounding like a good idea if only she would not have to leave her baby sister with the monster their step-father had turned into since the alcohol served as his only supporter through his grieving. Even though she was aware that it was not an option she would catch herself fantasizing about it daily. The sun drifted down slowly and fire flies blinked a graceful rhythm, one only she could hear. 

Homemade biscuits and meatloaf were a thing of the past now, and I deeply missed the smell of breakfast waking me up in the morning followed by the gentle ring of mama's voice coming down the hallway knocking on my door. Now it was a microwaved T.V. dinner or left overs from the church that we no longer attended. Dirty dishes lay in the sink for days, only adding to the stench that seemed to echo from the unmopped floors and the bathtub's clogged drain. I guessed that was why Claire spent so much time outside, at least out there she could smell the gardenia that momma had planted years before we had come along. It seemed that was a part of her she left behind that still lived on with us, along with the parts of the garden that were not yet overtaken by weeds.

Claire made her way back up to the house that seemed to frown at the sight of her with her head down. The grass was damp between her toes, flossing out dirt from the garden's edge. Upon the return to the back door of the shell of a home that her sister caged herself in, she told herself it was only a temporary visit until tomorrow. Tomorrow would once again bring the key to her freedom that stretched further than the eye could see. It wasn't much of an escape but it was better than the hell the inside of the house had become. Praying silently that her step-father was asleep, Claire pushed the door open with a faint creek and then closed it behind her locking it with the hook latch.

It was dark out and I laid on my bed flipping through a highlight's magazine, pretending I had not solved the puzzles a hundred times already. The lava lamp in the corner of the room grabbed my attention with its pink liquid floating to the top and then racing back down to the bottom through the purple water that incased it. It reminded me of the roller coaster ride that my life had turned into recently. I watched the repetition a few times before Claire opened the bedroom door, grinning at me with her hands behind her back.

The fire flies always made Claire think of her little sister. So before going inside for the night she picked the cleanest mason jar from the shed and found a lid that already had holes poked in it from the last home she had made for them. She captured a few and snuck the jar inside under her dress. Claire could not wait to see the look on her sister's face as she quietly walked down the hall passed the room that her mother used too sleep in. A twist of the door knob and quick spin on her heel, Claire was in her bedroom with the jar in hand. Without fail her little sister smiled from ear to ear with excitement at such a gift.

I watched as the fire flies flew in different directions, bumping into the glass looking for a way out. They sort of reminded me of myself constantly running into the walls of my bedroom in attempt to get out of the house that was made for me by a strange giant. I could see what was out there waiting for me but yet I was held back by some invisible field of protection that was made up by age and circumstances.

Claire laid in bed after stepping into her pajamas with Halloween cats on them. She watched as the blinking lights in the jar got a little lighter with each minute that passed. The sun had set for the evening and the bugs in their new home had done the same. Claire closed her eyes and forced a dream of when things were still brighter. 

Until tomorrow...