A Promise

Silence had settled into the air, softly still against the chairs and tables, beds and shelves, and the kitchen cabinets and counter tops of the home. A woman’s sigh broke through it all, as she happily sat back in her seat, rocking gently back and forth, with a book in her hands. The turning of the page once again breaking the stillness that continued to settle in around her. 

The husband was gone shopping, the kids all grown, and the grandchildren all tucked away in their respectful homes. No one else but her. 

She was unaware, however, of a small figure stepping out of her car, eyes misty as she looked over the front yard. 

The wind rustled the vibrant green leaves of spring, full and lively from the rain, but in her eyes she saw the ground littered with three medium sized piles of oak leaves, three children laughing in the fall sun. Flashes of bright blonde hair and dark brown; the sound of children’s laughter ringing through a quiet old neighborhood. 

Slowly, she stepped up onto the sidewalk and noticed the wear of time against it. So many more cracks than she remembered, but each unique, like wrinkles in a mind full of memories. She looked behind her and saw a little blonde girl grinning with three umbrellas spread out over the hot asphalt as rain pitter-pattered against the opened shields around her. 

Gathering up her courage, she walked to the front door and hesitated, looking back behind herself and seeing the sign again, before she sighed and cautiously knocked on the front door. 

The woman inside frowned and blinked, feeling that flicker of fear run through her. These were different times.

Most people called these days, but perhaps they were lost. So many things they could be, but something urged her to answer. 

“Hi… My name is Revna Rune… Gosh, I am so sorry, but this used to be my grandparents home, and I was just passing through and noticed the ‘For Sale’ sign and I could never afford a home of my own like this, but I just… I just wanted to see it again…” The woman looked a little stunned for a moment, and although fleeting, it was enough to worry the younger one standing on the porch. “If it’s a bother, you don’t have to, I know I’m intruding-”

“No!” The woman said, smiling and shaking her head, “No, of course not, come in. You must be Mrs. Frode’s granddaughter.” She said, as the woman grinned and nodded, “Yes…” Revna admitted, walking in and shedding her coat, but refused to hang it or hand it over, “I don’t want to take up too much of your time… Just a quick peek.” She admitted, but stopped in the entryway. 

“What do you see?” The woman asked, as the other grinned, eyes going misty again, Ravna’s chest swelling a little, as she hugged her coat closer, “Christmas…” She whispered. 

The front door naturally opened up to a small hall that led to the kitchen, but immediately to the right was a hall to the bedrooms and bath, and to the left was an open wall to the living room. 

In the belly of the room, where a small tan colored sofa had been, just barely large enough to stretch under all three slim windows facing West, holding two or three adults dressed in 90's fashion while laughing and drinking from crystal wine glasses, was a large leather couch that wrapped around from one end of the windows to just barely past the wall to the entry. 

What had been soft, worn, and plush creme colored carpet covered with a green rug, the woman’s heels clicked against linoleum disguised as wood panels now. 

A TV hung on the Eastern wall, cords hidden with a wall colored strip, but it hid the memory of a black piano with ivory keys that four children, dressed in various, almost matching red velvety dresses and suits, took turns sitting on the matching bench, pressing keys until a weary woman rounded the corner and shut the cover. “Go play outside!” Ravna heard her grandmother's voice echo through time, turning to face the far wall.

Her eyes first cascaded over the hand crafted, dark wood bookshelves her grandfather had installed into the Northern wall, hugging a red brick fireplace, as she stepped further into the room. The mouth was open and cold, a little bit of a pile of ash underneath the grate, but another memory played to the side of Ravna’s vision, a worn blue lazy boy recliner against the right side of the bookcases seated a man. 

He wasn’t very tall, balding on the top of his head, dark hair around the sides with coke bottle glasses hanging off his stubby nose and a respectable button-up, long sleeved, pressed shirt with trousers on, held up by a belt. 

The man that was Ravna’s grandfather was smiling down at the little girl in a red Christmas dress, sitting close to the bricks of the hearth, a warm fire lighting the room, as the decorated tree in the left corner of the room twinkled with changing colored lights. The man was smiling, because the girl was opening his gift next. 

Ravna wiped a tear from her eyes, as the man looked up at her with his crooked toothy grin. 

“May I see the den?” She asked, as the other smiled and nodded, leading her through the memories and into the breakfast room cut into the Eastern wall, down the three little steps, as Ravna lifted her hand, touching a spot where a phone had hung, as if to play with the cord that was no longer there. 

Inside the den, she grinned again, seeing the dining room table pressing against the carpet, all set up waiting to be used. Two little girls played in her memories at the end, in the empty space where toys for the grandchildren always stood, waiting. The two girls were playing imaginary, pulling Clowcards and making up what each character would look like. 

“Astra! Look, it’s raining!” She heard herself say, as the older little blonde girl looked to the South wall double doors, as Astra frowned, her own little blonde head turning to look to the North window and door on the opposite side of the den. “No it’s not.” 

Although cousins, they had always acted like twins, and she could see them exchanging glances from one side of the den to the other as the realization hit. The cloud was over the house. 

Ravna stood back against the wall, sad to not feel the familiar press of a phone seat against her, as the shadows of her younger self and cousin ran back and forth in excitement, and a woman with short permed brown, but graying hair, stood at the bottom of the steps smiling and shaking her head softly to herself, as she watched her granddaughters gawk at the experience. “Is it raining over there yet??” One shouted, while the other shook her head, “Not yet. Has it stopped over there yet??” 

She shook her head, “Not yet!” 

Ravna looked to the woman and chuckled, “This room doesn’t seem to have gotten any smaller since I was young.” She admitted, walking to the end of it to the Southern doors and looked out. 

“My grandfather built this room out of a walkway to the garage…” She noted softly, her gaze peering out through the glass and at the South side of the massive backyard that wrapped around the house to the East.

She could see the tree that stretched up high above the house, it’s trunk covered in a crawling, harmless ivy. Her grandfather stood off behind the tree somewhere, as a train ran on a track that traveled in a rounded out square around the little corner of the yard, while her and her red headed cousin swung back and forth in a swing set. 

“He built that porch, too… My grandmother always said that when Pa-pa had a contractor come look at the house to sell it, the contractor told him the house would fall down before that porch did.” She said, as the woman giggled and nodded, “Our grandchildren love playing out there on that porch.” She admitted, as Ravna nodded with a silent approval. 

“I just want to see one more room.” She said softly, as the woman nodded and led her back in through the kitchen and to the entryway. 

The hallway was shorter than she remembered, but her mind was lost, a little Ravna crawling on all fours like a dog she was pretending to be, until she got to the first room on the right, looking in. 

Through this memory, she could see into her infancy. She could see her older cousins sitting and playing games inside. But she was so small… How could she be that small and close to the floor? Little Ravna tried to lean down and see if she could see what her little memory was seeing… She couldn’t; not properly anyway. 

The woman followed her little memory self down the hall and into the bedroom on the left at the end; her grandparents old bedroom. It was early morning and her grandmother had been getting the sheets replaced for the week to come, which meant this was a perfect opportunity for little Ravna to crawl into the hole of the rolled up bed sheet on the floor, at the foot of the bed.

However there was no time to play right now, as the little girl continued her odd little crawl over to the far side of the bed, her grandmother’s side, and faced the east wall, where a love seat sat underneath a wide window that looked over the southern strip of the backyard. The rising sun, soft, gentle rays of warm light shown through the leaves of the trees and the blinds of the window, as dust particles floated peacefully in the air. 

For a moment or two, little Ravna sat very still and just took in the stillness of the morning and watched the sun rays from her perspective reflecting on the memory of her infancy. “I will never see this room the same way again.” The little girl thought to herself, as she committed the moment to her memory, promising her young self that she would come back and see how much the view had changed. 

Ravna stood at the entrance to the room, her feet frozen in place for a moment, as she saw her young self turn to her, just before the memory melted. 

A queen bed for two sat against the south wall, night stands on either side with lamps for reading or thinking. A newer love seat sat invitingly under the window, and a large wardrobe with it’s doors opened wide, revealed a TV inside and dresser drawers beneath it took up much of the wall, engulfing what had once been a simple vanity, topped with ring holders and various jewelry boxes and a small organizer where a 5 pack of spearmint gum would always sit, waiting for Ravna to take a piece.

Smiling a little nervously, realizing the woman was waiting on her, the other hugged her coat tight against her chest again, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting down in the same spot and looked at the window. The morning sun shown through the leaves and the soft, gentle rays touched at her cheeks; dust particles drifting through the air peacefully.

A promise made whole.