Daisy Miller and the Green Woman

I cracked my eyes open, squinting at the ceiling. The moment I did, I wished I hadn’t; my head pulsed and I felt dizzy. 

I started to piece together what happened before I fell asleep. 

My eyes shot open and the blinding light made the back of my eyeballs ache. I blinked stupidly. 

I was lying on my back on a dark green velvet couch. The room was fairly tight. Definitely an outdated apartment, probably on the east side of the city judging by its antiquated architecture and the sounds of traffic humming through the left wall. 

Without moving, I tried to see every corner of the room. 

I could hear a fire crackling on my right, but I didn’t dare peek over the tall side of the couch, so I stared at the two walls I could see plainly, in front of me and to the left. 

There was a jungle patterned wallpaper plastered neatly on all sides of the room. On the lower half of the walls, there was polished walnut wainscoting. 

The room was very clean, but cluttered, with odds and ends filling up nearly every inch of spare room. 

Whoever owned this place must have been well-traveled, there were several pieces of uncut jade here and there, interspersed with luminescent opals, rough chunks of what could be gold or uranium, and other rocks or gems. 

My eyes roved from a Chinese incense burner to a variety of buddhas in different sizes. There were also maps placed sporadically on the walls, some framed, and others with torn edges. 

It felt like something out of Sherlock Holmes’s time.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, forgetting to stay still. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” piped up a small voice from behind me.

I jumped and sat bolt upright, clutching a blanket to my chest in panic and twisting around at the same time. 

I managed to gracefully trap my legs in the blanket and slide halfway off the couch all in one movement, all without managing to catch a glimpse of the person who had spoken. 

“Oh dear,” came the voice again as I sat on the floor dazed. 

“Sorry,” my voice came out a nervous squeak. 

I cleared my throat and slowly turned around. 

“Bah!” I jumped in surprise as I came face to face with a green woman.

She was small and tidy, her grey hair was swept into a soft sort of bun, not one of those tight ones that give you a headache and make you snap at children. It was the kind of bun that framed her face with the softest curls and swept back into a half-moon shape of silvery hair.

But the oddest thing about her was that every inch of her skin was a grassy green color. She looked like a walking leaf or maybe a chartreuse nymph. 

“Goodness, child, didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the green woman.

She was staring at me, amused, with her ocean blue eyes standing in stark contrast to her green face. 

I stared and tried to think of what the right thing to say in this situation was. I came up utterly blank, so I settled for looking away and trying to stare at something, anything other than the green woman. 

“I’m Lila by the way,”

From my position on the floor, I tried to pretend like I didn’t see the green hand she held out to me and stared very hard at a map of Thailand instead. 

Lila huffed softly and shuffled towards me. 

The next instant, she took me by the arms and hauled me back up onto the couch. 

I sat there like a stiff possum, still staring at Thailand as if I’d just discovered the secret to life. 

This didn’t seem to phase Lila at all, in fact, she acted like I was the one acting normal as she untangled the blanket and pulled it up to my chin. 

She went over to the other side of the couch, but she didn’t leave the room; I could hear her softly humming to herself. 

Cautiously I peeked over the back of the couch. 

She was making tea. 

I watched her pottering about for a little while and then I cleared my throat nervously. 

“What….are you?” I asked.

Lila glanced back at me and smiled kindly, “a woman, of course.” she responded good-naturedly. 

Suddenly I felt as if I’d asked the stupidest question in the world. Of course, she was a woman. 

I tried to redeem myself with a better question, “so,” I licked my lips nervously, “what do you...do?”

Lila poured a cup of tea. 

“I’m a doctor,” she responded, “I heal sick people and mend broken things.”

She handed me the steaming cup of tea and patted my hand gently. 

The simple act made my heart ache somehow. Tears started to my eyes and a lump started to swell in my throat. 

Quickly I took a sip of tea to make it go away. Unfortunately, it scalded my tongue and made my throat feel like it was on fire. 

I panted frantically to cool off my mouth, but instead of growing smaller, the lump only swelled bigger and I started to choke, cry, and pant all at once. 

Lila sat next to me with a serious face and took the cup from me, setting it down on the carpet. 

Softly she guided me into her lap and then began to carefully untangle and run her fingers through my hair. 

I sobbed into her lap for what felt like hours. 

I cried because I was exhausted and I felt stupid and small. I cried because I was scared and I really thought I was going to die. 

Then I cried because I was still shaking from the paralyzing fear that followed Sirius Dracul like a dark cloud. 

Then, oddly, I cried because the tea was so nice, and Lila’s hands were so kind, and the fire was beautiful. 

Finally, my sobbing died down to a few sniffles here and there and I dozed off a little. 

“There, there, darling, it’s all out now, you must feel better,” said Lila quietly. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled, still half asleep.

“Sorry?” asked Lila, “what for? You would have cracked otherwise, I’d much rather you let it all out here with me than to crack somewhere in the city.”

I didn’t understand what she meant, but it seemed to make sense to her, so I stayed quiet. 

“Why don’t we wash your hair then, I’ve healed most everything else but there are awful clumps of blood stuck in your hair that I couldn’t get out.” offered Lila. 

“Ok,” I agreed, “do you have a shower?” 

“Yes, right this way.”

We both got up and Lila handed me a towel and a pair of clean sweatpants and a faded eagles t-shirt, both too big, but they’d work. 

The bathroom was similar to the room with the fireplace. It was small but clean. The same jungle pattern was on the walls. And a gold lamp swung from the low ceiling. 

The shower was a half bath with claw feet. 

I’d always wanted to take a bath in one of those, but I didn’t dare. 

Instead, I took a very quick shower, not wanting to use up all their hot water or be gone for too long. 

I scrubbed myself off at light speed and used up a little bit of super strength to rub the dried blood out of my hair. 

The shampoo and conditioner smelled like coconut, but I was too scared to use more than the bare minimum. 

Still, I smelled tropical when I turned off the water, in a nice way, but it was odd to smell tropical while surrounded on all sides by jungle patterned walls.

I dried myself off as fast as I could, half afraid that someone would walk through the door and see me naked.

I wasn’t sure exactly how to lock the door so for all I knew it could very well be unlocked.

I pulled on the sweatpants and tied them around my waist so they wouldn’t fall down.

I took a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. My face felt like pieces floating in an angled collection of bones. Only skin was keeping those grey eyes and thin eyebrows floating on my face. I wiggled my eyebrows and my face began to come together again. I licked my dry lips and smoothed back my wet hair.

I took the knob of the door and slowly twisted it. The door swung open and steam curled around my legs as I stood in the doorway.

The green woman had her back turned and was humming softly as she stirred something that bubbled over the stove.

Tears prickled my eyes again, and I stood and watched for a long moment before I turned and tiptoed to the door.

I slipped out as quietly as I could. The cold air outside the apartment nearly swept me off my feet. Every fiber of my being clung to the door handle as if I could just slip back in the door and be home with Lila and the bubbling soup.

The steps I took to the bus stop were the hardest thing I have ever done.