The fair blinded Youngvia. Street vendors crowded the black pavement. Advertisers scurried around the crowds waving little pamphlets and business cards. It was all so exhilarating for the quiet town of Buchtton.
Youngvia clutched the straps of her cello case and continued on her way to the town hall. A few people glanced at her as she walked, but most were content to focus on the excitement of Community Day. “Hey, Youngvia!” Youngvia twirled around to see her friend Aleah racing toward her with her own cello case thumping against her back. Aleah’s dark wavy hair bounced around her shoulders and her brown eyes were bright. “Oh, my goodness,” Aleah said as she stopped beside Youngvia. “I thought I would never find you. Buchtton is such a small town, but it really gets crazy on Community Day.” Youngvia nodded in agreement. “That’s for sure. Are you ready to play?” Aleah laughed. “You bet I’m ready. My mothers and sisters are all sick of me playing the songs at home. I’m sure your family feels the same.” Youngvia definitely had been practicing a lot, but her little sister and parents were used to it now, so they rarely ever complained. She and Aleah weaved through the crowds to reach the brick building at the center of the streets. Around her, Youngvia could smell the sweetness of cotton candy and hear the laughter of kids and parents. As pop music boomed from speakers above her, she could feel the ground vibrating below her feet. The scene both energized her, but also made her nervous. What if she couldn’t do this Community Day service? It was the first time she had performed at an event like this. Most of the time, she played in school talent shows and musicals where the only people she was being judged against were other high school students. Here, the stakes seemed so much higher. The two girls finally made it to the steps of Town Hall. At the top of the steps, a black platform had been wheeled out in front of the great brown doors and tech people were racing back and forth across the stage to check the mics and connect the mess of wires that were required for the performance. “I’m so glad that I don’t have to handle the tech stuff,” Aleah said beside Youngvia. She had to shout to be heard over the speakers. “I know I would mess everything up.” Mr. Agu, the high school music and drama teacher ran over to Aleah and Youngvia from the top of the stairs. “There you two girls are.” He grinned at them. “I know how hard you have been working in class and it must be nice for it to finally be paying off.” Aleah beamed at the teacher. “Thank you for always supporting us.” “Well, go be awesome.” He nodded toward the stage. Youngvia’s heart pounding, she started up the steps. The cello on her back weighed down on her and with each step her feet made, it felt like she was walking through mud. The noises of the background faded to the edges of her senses and all that could swarm in was her anxiety. Stop it, Youngvia, she scolded herself. She had never been this nervous about performing before. She had always loved sharing her gifts with the world and being able to bring others joy through her music. Why was today different? What if everybody hates me after this? What if they think I’m terrible and stuck-up and they abandon me? There it was. That word. The word that Youngvia tried to push out of her mind all of the time. That word that had caused her so much pain since she was an infant. She glanced at Aleah. She couldn’t tell what her friend was feeling, but she wondered if Aleah also had the fear of failure leading to abandonment like her. They both were adopted, meaning that they had to have been abandoned first. It was part of their stories. Yet, Aleah had only been abandoned once and she had been adopted into a loving family with four mothers and five sisters. Youngvia had been adopted as a baby and then abandoned again when she was ten, only to be taken in by her first adoptive mother’s cousin. What was Youngvia thinking hiding behind her music? The pain of the past would never leave her. She crossed the last step and trudged toward the black stage. She smiled back weakly at the tech people who waved and grinned at her and her eyes drifted over the cobbled ground. Aleah went up the stage steps first and strode toward one of two wooden chairs on the platform. Youngvia lumbered after her friend. Her mind erratic, she unzipped her instrument and went through the movements of tuning. Her arms shivered and sweat dripped down her forehead. Even though it was a warm day, she still felt this weird sensation of feeling both warm and cold. Her stomach churned inside of her and her legs wobbled as she positioned the cello between them. The pop music quieted and Aleah flashed Youngvia a smile. We got this, she mouthed. All Youngvia could do was nod back. And then they played. Once she felt the cello vibrate between her legs. Once she heard the silence settle down among the people below. Once their footsteps quieted, their chattering paused. Once she knew she was safe up here, Youngvia could breathe the music. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” Aleah said to her fifteen minutes later after they had finished playing and were heading back into the crowds. The pop music had returned to the speakers and chattering fluttered around them. Youngvia grinned. “Yeah, it was nice.” “Do you want to talk about what had made you so nervous? Usually, you aren’t this uptight about playing in front of all these people.” Youngvia watched as a family of four passed by, their laughter a light breeze blowing by her ear. “I mean, this is our first time playing at Community Day. We usually play in more formal places where the people there are our families or people who know music. It’s weird playing here where us playing isn’t the main act.” “We’re just part of the crowd.” Aleah nodded. “Right, but it was nice…being part of the crowd. I was so worried everyone would just leave if they didn’t like what they were hearing, but no one did. They just listened. It made me feel like I belonged and that I didn’t have to worry about being abandoned.” Aleah’s brown hand grasped onto Youngvia’s pale one. “You never have to worry about being abandoned again, if that’s what you’re worried about. Buchtton is a small community, but we look out for one another, okay?” Youngvia smiled. “Okay.”
0 Comments
“We should really try that someday,” Kaya said.
“Wait, what?” I glanced over at my friend. The sun baked her shoulder-length black hair, causing it to glow a slight crimson. “That.” My friend pointed in the distance where a group of teens our age was boogie-boarding in the waves. Their laughter tingled in my ears, causing me to smile. “Yeah, that looks pretty fun. I’m pretty sure Ayana has some boogie boards we could borrow and use.” I thought of my other best friend who lived right across from this very beach. She had been busy lately with a badminton tournament, so I hadn’t seen her very much this Summer. “We’re going to be graduating high school in just two years,” Kaya said. “We need to do it before then.” I frowned and traced a line through the sand. Although I had slathered sunscreen all over my pale skin earlier today, my fingers were still tinged pink. Were we really that close to the finish line? It was hard to believe we were going to be juniors in a couple of weeks. Sophomore year, half of which was online thanks to COVID, had passed by so quickly and our freshman year had ended abruptly due to the pandemic. Did I really have only two more years to enjoy the company of all my classmates? Ayana’s smiles. Kaya’s determination. Lucia’s creativity. Isabelle’s confidence. “You okay, Summer?” Kaya peered at me, her brown eyes brimming with concern. I chuckled and shook the grainy sand off my fingers. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feels like things are going too fast.” Kaya shifted closer to me, her body so close our shoulders almost touched. We had been best friends since elementary school. Would that still be the same even as we moved on? A cloud blocking the sun floated off and the light blinded me, so I looked away from my friend. A breeze flitted with my blonde hair, bringing along with it the briny scent of the ocean. Even the weather seemed to be moving onward. “I honestly can’t wait to get out of here,” Kaya said. “I mean, you know how things are with my sister. I love her, but sometimes it’s exhausting when she’s having another tantrum and none of us can help her. And my parents, they aren’t the warmest of people. They show their affection in different ways and I understand that, but…” “You want something else,” I finished for her. I kept my gaze on my feet submerged in the sand. “Definitely.” Kaya sighed. “Not sure if I’ll ever get it. I haven’t earned that much money to be living on my own.” “Kaya,” I said. My heart thrummed in my chest. “We should move forward together.” Kaya stared at me. Then her face broke into a grin. “Are you asking me out, Summer?” I must have looked disappointed because Kaya placed her hand on my wrist. “I think that’s very sweet,” she murmured. “So what do you say? Are we going to tackle the future together?” Kaya leaned her shoulder against mine. “I don’t know what will happen, but you’re right, it’ll be easier doing this if we’re not alone. But first, let’s go find some boogie boards!” There is beauty in these moments, Isabelle, my father once told me as we stood in the sand. The grainy particles dug into our feet and the summer sun seared our foreheads as we watched it float down into the waves. This is a gift from God, I had thought. My mind whirled with what my second grade CCD teacher told me last Spring. But now, almost nine years later, I stand on the icy boardwalk and stare at the snow-encrusted beach with only heaviness lingering in my brain.
Is tomorrow really Christmas? A tiny flake lands on my gloved fingertips clutching the boardwalk’s railings. Shivering, I turn to the left and blink water droplets out of my eyes. The wind flattens my dark blue mask against my cheek and I take a shaky breath that fills the slim gap between my mouth and the cotton with warm air. I glare up at the pink-tinged sky. Everything had seemed so accessible back then. I used to think of the atmosphere as where God lay resting among the clouds and stars. As if all I needed to do to reach heaven was to stand on my tiptoes and grasp onto a shooting star with my bare six-year-old hands. At sixteen, that seems impossible. When was the last time I even went to a service? To a mass? We had left the Catholic church back when I was in fifth grade and hadn’t looked back since. Our new church had been much more welcoming and I had loved the people I had met there. It’s just that…it’s getting so much harder to believe. I love sunsets. The clouds are splotches of paint that splatter across the canvas of the sky. A memory trickles into my senses. My best friend Avani and I had been walking home from school last Fall. I had stayed late helping organize a food drive while Avani had play practice. By the time we had left the high school, the sky was almost completely dark. Only the barest sliver of purple lined the horizon. I’ve always thought of sunsets as more organized, I had said in reply to Avani. The colors are layered and the sun always sinks down. There’s an order to it all. Avani had shaken her head. That’s where you’re wrong, dear friend. I had spent the rest of the night thinking about Avani’s words. Even ignoring the aesthetics of sunsets, the scientific reasons for the phenomenon still expressed a sequence of events, not a random splashing of paint. But now, I realize, maybe there is truth to my friend’s claim. There is beauty in these moments, my father had said. A gift, I had thought. There is, meaning it exists. Beauty just exists. That gift exists. No structure required. I peer up at the colorful sky. With a smile, I let go of the railing. The last thing I wanted was another biology project, but the expression on Mr. Das’ face told me I was never getting out of this one. Not like I had ever tried to get out of doing a project before. It was just that...sometimes being a good student was exhausting.
“Why the long face, Noah?” I glanced up from my lunchbox to see my best friend Lizzie staring at me. Her dark brown eyes were creased and she rolled her head back as she snorted. Her short dark curly hair bobbed around her shoulders. I sighed. I ran a hand through my own black hair. “I’m just annoyed Mr. Das is assigning us another bio project.” “You guys get a new one every week and it’s only the third week of school!” Lizzie shook her head. “I’m glad I have Ms. Mei. She’s easy. Our theme is cooking and we just eat the good food she brings us.” I stuck my tongue out at her. Of course, Lizzie got the fun theme. Buchtton High School was unique in that each core class had a theme. For instance, my biology class had an underwater theme and my English class had a current events theme. Right now, I was pretty sure Mr. Das was trying to drown us in homework. “Ooh, did I hear you got another project?” I twisted to my right to see my other friend Lea sliding onto the bench with her lunch tray balanced on her palm. She grinned at me. “That sounds like so much fun. I like Ms. Mei and it’s great being in the same class as Lizzie, but sometimes I don’t feel challenged enough.” “What? You don’t like sitting around just talking about food, Lea?” Her giggles dying down, Lizzie peered at her girlfriend. “I do. It just doesn’t feel like a biology class at times.” “I don’t care about that.” Lizzie shook her head. “Biology is my least favorite science.” “Yeah, you’re a computer science girl,” I mumbled. “That’s true,” Lizzie said, smiling. She stared off into the distance as if imagining herself in the computer lab hard at work coding some confusing game. The blinding cafeteria lights flickered across her deep brown face, emphasizing her look of contentment. “So what’s your project assignment this week?” Lea asked. “We have to give an example of an underwater food chain in a creative way.” I stared at my hands. “I’m awful at drawing, so whatever I come up with is going to suck.” “Hey, your dad is a famous author,” Lizzie said, her attention returning to the present moment. “Why don’t you write a story?” Lea clapped her hands. “That’s such a good idea! You should totally do that, Noah. You’re an awesome writer, too. You helped write the play for this year’s performance.” As embarrassment shot through me, I felt grateful that my skin was too dark to see any blush. I fidgeted with my lunchbox’s zipper. “I mean, that was different. I was writing something that I was interested in. This is…” “Just a simple biology project that is literally only going to be seen by one teacher? A teacher, who already told you last week that you're one of the most hardworking students he’s ever taught?” Lizzie frowned at me. “When you put it that way…” I tilted my head as ideas drifted through my brain. “By the time this lunch is over, we’re going to have helped you make the best short story ever!” Lea squealed. ~~~ By the time lunch was almost over, a story certainly existed, but whether or not it was the best story ever...there was an obvious answer to that. I flattened my forehead against the lunch table’s wooden surface. “Mr. Das is going to think I don’t care about his class.” “Stories can be fun, you know,” Lea said. The table trembled underneath me as Lea reached in front of me to snatch the sheet of lined paper where I had scrawled all the ideas we’d brainstormed. “There’s a difference between fun and nonsensical,” I muttered. “I think if I was a krill, I would figure out a way to become queen of the ocean,” Lizzie said, her words riddled with laughter. “None of you are taking this seriously.” “You’re taking biology too seriously,” Lizzie retorted. I turned my head to glare at her. “Krill makes potion in order to turn the tides of the food chain,” Lea read outloud. “Next thing you know, for a day, all the roles are reversed. Krill are at the top of the food chain and all the predators are at the bottom.” “How can krill even make a potion?” I lifted my head from the table. “They don’t have arms.” “That’s the beauty of fiction,” Lizzie said. “It doesn’t have to make sense.” “But readers still want stories to make at least a little sense or what’s the point?” “Are you the god of stories?” Lea pouted. “Who gave you the authority to decide how all stories should be written?” “Well, I think looking at what the audience wants is a pretty good start,” I mumbled. “Stories are kind of a community thing, so if other people won’t read your story, then why bother creating it” “Ugh, you sound like my dad’s SO. Bìhn is always saying stuff like that.” Lizzie grabbed the paper from Lea. “Well, Bìhn is my dad’s agent,” I reminded her. My friend wasn’t listening though and instead was doodling a giant krill in the paper’s margins. Lea rolled her eyes. “I think stories should be what you want them to be. If krill eating whales is what you want, then go for it.” “I’m not sure what I want at this point,” I muttered. Lea stared at me sadly. She pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “Hey, you don’t have to do any of Lizzie’s and mine crazy suggestions. We were just being silly.” I glanced at Lizzie on my left doodling and Lea on my right packing up her trash. Lizzie and Lea were two of my closest friends. They could be somewhat eccentric at times and I had to admit, their story ideas were a bit weird, but they made me smile. I sighed. “You know what? I actually do like the krill thing and I think I can make it work. You said I’m a good writer, right? And I did say that writing is about community.” Lea peered at me. “You sure? We’re not pressuring you or anything?” I smiled. “It’ll be fun to relax a little with a biology project for once.” Last night, I saw a woman standing in the woods outside my window. She had light brown skin and long black hair. I frowned. We were supposed to be social distancing. Why would she be there? Yet, she swayed in the wind with her loose silver dress billowing around her slim body. Even when I blinked, I could still see her. Kylie, I told myself. You’re going crazy. Just go back to bed. And that’s what I did. The next morning, I woke up to see the April sun shimmering through my window. The green canopy of trees was barely visible from my vantage point. The woman. My heart pounding, I slipped out of my bed more quickly than any other seventeen-year-old would do on a no-school day. I pressed my face against the cool glass. No woman was there. I sighed. I must have imagined everything. “Kylie,” I heard my mother’s voice come from downstairs. “It’s your turn to take out the trash!” Groaning, I headed out of my bedroom. ~~~ That night, I waited by my window. I craved to see the woman again. There was something so eerie, but entrancing about her. All this COVID-19 stuff is going to my brain, I thought. Lately, I’d been anxious for my mother’s side of the family who were Mashpee Wampanoag. The tribe’s reservation was struggling with lack of government support and resources. My parents had been sending as much virtual aid as possible, but it still hurt being physically isolated from one side of my family. Then, of course, my dad’s side of the family were all in Shanghai and we hadn’t had much contact with them either. I just need a distraction from all this stress. The moon glistened in the sky above me. It was so round and golden. A super full moon, my dad had said earlier. I closed my eyes just for a moment to allow the yellow light to bathe me with its invisible warmth. I could almost imagine myself dancing on the moon’s dusty surface with my feet bounding through the air. Stars glinted around me and the Earth bobbed in the distance. Beside me was the woman, her red lips parted in a smile and her dark brown eyes were alight with euphoria. I blinked. She was still there and I was still on the moon. My heart soared in my chest and I, feeling like I could catch the stars, sprung through the air. “The moon is beautiful,” the woman said. It took me a moment to recognize she was speaking Shanghainese, my father’s first language. “Yeah,” I replied in the same tongue. I paused beside her. “Who are you?” “Someone who is alone.” “I get that.” I fiddled with the sleeve of my pink pajama top. It had been weeks since I had last seen my friends in person. I missed how Isla would doodle on my arm and how Christie talked so much at lunch that she always forgot to eat. I longed to meet up at the beach again with Amber and have vibrant discussions about the books we were reading. The woman nodded at me and held out her right hand. “Let me show you.” Normally, I would never take a stranger’s hand, but things were weird enough tonight. I was on the moon and exceptions could be made. I clenched her cool grasp. A light sparked between us and the ground swiveled underneath my feet. My stomach lurched in my body and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Take a look,” the woman’s voice filtered through my ears. I gazed at the scene before me. I was back in my town of Buchtton, Massachusetts, I realized. The night air tangled around my legs and I could feel the concrete driveway underneath my feet. Before me sat the colonial of my friend Isla Yue. Through the front window, I could see Isla with her back to us and her head bowed. I smiled. I knew that pose anywhere. She was drawing. Even with quarantine, my friend was still finding the strength to do the activity that made her happy. “Why are you showing me this?” I asked in Shanghainese. The woman did not answer. She held out her right hand again and I clasped it. This time, I was prepared for my stomach to feel like it was being tossed around. When I regained my composure, I noticed we were in front of a different colonial in Buchtton. “This is Christie’s house.” I spotted my friend’s red hair and pale skin through the window. She was in her kitchen with her sisters and mothers. I gazed as the family ate and laughed together. A pang of sadness shot though me as I remembered how isolated I was from my extended family and how they did not have the financial privileges of my friends. Then again, I knew things were complicated for Christie, too, because she was adopted and had no idea how her birth family was doing. I turned away from the sight. A cold breeze dragged across my arms and I shivered. The woman offered her hand. I embraced it and the ground shuddered under my feet. When the shaking stopped, I was not surprised to be standing in front of Amber’s house. He lived right across from the beach. Salty air flew through my nostrils and the thrumming of the waves soothed me. I grinned. My anxiety for my family lifting, I closed my eyes. I could almost picture myself with Amber on the beach with books gripped in our hands and smiles plastered on our cheeks. I opened my eyes. Through the window of Amber’s home, I could make out my friend reading on his bunk bed. The light of the lamp beside him made his curly black hair glimmer and illuminated his deep brown skin. His sister Ayana entered the room and he looked up and beamed at her. For a final time, the woman held out her right hand. Sighing, I obliged and grasped her palm. The world once more swirled around me and my stomach tumbled inside of me. We landed in front of my small cape house. The downstairs light was on and I could see my parents talking to each other in our little living room. My younger siblings, Stacey and Dan, were nowhere to be seen. My parents’ heads were bent together and they seemed to be looking at something. I turned to the woman. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Who are you?” The woman smiled. In a flash of golden light, she was gone. I went up the stone steps to my house and creaked open the door. My parents, sitting on the couch by the window, gaped at me. The warm air of my home enveloped me and it struck me how chilly the weather had been outside. “Where were you?” my mother asked. Her dark brown eyes were wide. My father just stared at me. “Oh, taking a walk.” I meandered over to my parents. A book lay on the coffee table in front of them. “What’re you looking at?” “Just an old scrapbook from when you kids were younger.” My mother was still frowning at me, but both of my parents seemed to have accepted I wasn’t going to tell them any more information. I slid onto the sofa beside my mother and leaned on her shoulder. I peered down at the scrapbook before us. A picture from when I was in elementary school gleamed back up at me. It was an image from Winter Break of second grade, the one time relatives from both my Chinese and Mashpee Wampanoag sides of my family had visited Buchtton. Swaddled in thick jackets and scarves, we all huddled in front of the house for a photo. Everyone was smiling, even my younger brother Dan who had been five at the time and obsessed with scowling. “Mom,” I murmured. “Are we going to be okay?” “I don’t know, Kylie, but your father and I are here for you.” She massaged my back. I twisted my head around to look out the window at the glittering full moon. My mother was right. There was no way to be certain of the future, but I understood, thanks to the moon, that my friends and family would be there for me. And I will be there for them, too. Even if we’re apart. Thank you for reading! If you like my story, please don’t be afraid to give it a share. Comments are always welcome and I love hearing your thoughts. Question: How do you stay connected to your friends across distance?
Finally, to learn more about the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe and how to support them, I highly recommend checking out their official website: https://mashpeewampanoagtribe-nsn.gov/. Magdhina gripped the Post-It note in her hand. Its smooth white surface overlaid with silvery pencil marks promised her of adventure. It proclaimed that, in the woods, her life could change. That there, tucked in the trees, was something in need of her aid. But for now, the thirteen-year-old girl stood at her locker clutching the note. There were other thoughts in her mind, too. She read the message over again. Magdhina, please meet me out in the woods. There's something I need your help with. -EG Who could have gotten into her locker? Someone who knew her name and locker combination. There were very few people who knew the latter piece of information and those who did were her most trusted friends. But what if this was all a trick? The Buchtton public school system had its fair share of pranksters and bullies. Still, something about the note's scrawling handwriting struck her as familiar and she trusted its words. Also, Magdhina rarely ever turned down an adventure. So, foolishly, Magdhina slipped the note into her jean pocket and closed her locker door. She had decided to leave. ~~~ The afternoon sun glowed in the January sky and the bare trees of the woods waved their rich brown arms at her. Grateful for her thick red coat, Magdhina continued her way down the street. She was near the forest and she could make out a boy in a black jacket standing at the edge. It was her close friend Ezra Gold. Relief shot through Magdhina's body and she scampered over to the boy. Ezra's naturally tan face broke into a grin. "Thank you for coming, Magdhina. Sorry about being so cryptic, but I just wanted to be safe." Magdhina frowned at him. "What's going on?" Ezra's gaze shifted to the frosty ground. "It's hard to explain and I understand if you don't trust me... it's just that my parents were doing this experimental testing on these animals, and, uh, my sister and I released the animals and have been aiding them ever since. My family is going away for February Break and we need your help." Magdhina's heart thudded inside of her body and her muscles tightened. "What type of animals?" Just then movement stirred from behind the trees. Bushy red tails, black paws, and white underbellies popped into Magdhina's view. The pack of creatures slinked toward her, their feet barely making a sound against the silt and snow. Their dark eyes peered at her with an intensity that made her want to flee. Even though they were only slightly larger than a small dog, Magdhina knew that she would never mess around with these animals. "They're foxes," Magdhina murmured. "You want me to take care of foxes." Ezra nodded at her. "They're special though. You should talk to Crystal." "Crystal?" One of the foxes stepped forward. Her fur was slightly more orange than the others and her eyes were a deep brown. Magdhina shivered. Foxes? Ezra's parents had been experimenting on them? None of this was making any sense. For a moment, Magdhina yearned to be back at her locker with only anticipation accompanying her. Not this confusing mess. The fox opened its mouth and words, English words, streamed from its lips. "We need your assistance, Miss..." "Magdhina," Ezra finished for the creature. "Her name is Magdhina." Magdhina gaped at Ezra. She leaned forward and gripped his hand, which was cold from the wind. "You need to do some talking." Ezra grinned at her. "Crystal can do the explaining. Trust her." With that, her friend yanked his hand from her grasp and scurried off down the sidewalk edging the woods. Magdhina watched as his black jacket disappeared from her vision. "I'm not going to help foxes," Magdhina said, still keeping her head turned away from the animals. "You are wild creatures. You can take care of yourselves." Crystal, the fox, did not speak. Only a low rumble came from her mouth. Magdhina realized that the fox was mocking her. Laughing. She glared at the fox. The creature smirked at her and sat down on her haunches. Meanwhile, the other foxes slipped back into the forest as quietly as they had arrived. The only evidence they left behind of their existence were small white footprints in the snow. "We don't need help with food or shelter. We are clever and know how to stay away from humans who wish to harm us. No, we need something more important." Magdhina was surprised by how articulate the fox was. If Magdhina was one of Ezra's parents, she would be distraught to lose such a valuable specimen. But another part of Magdhina felt some sympathy for the foxes. What surgeries and tests would Ezra's parents have had to perform in order to give these animals the ability to speak? "What's more important than food and shelter?" Magdhina said at last. She crossed her arms. Maybe she did feel a little bad for these foxes, but that didn't mean she had to help them. They already had their basic needs met. Crystal's eyes glimmered in the light of the sun. "Something that encourages us to keep going. It is lonely out here, Magdhina. We have one another, but at times we need something... less tangible. Something universal that is built by experience and patience." Magdhina groaned. "Please speak more directly." "We need stories." "Stories?" Magdhina raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I don't think I'll be much help with that. I'm not the bedtime story type of person. That's more my mom. She claims telling stories is part of her Cuban genes. Can't say I'm really into storytelling though." Crystal bowed her head. "No one can exist without a story. I trust you will return once you find one." The fox stood and lumbered back into the woods. Her tail bent low to the ground and the trees' shadows caressed her orange fur. Soon, her small figure was gone from Magdhina's sight. ~~~ Throughout the next day, Magdhina could barely concentrate. From class to class, she fumbled to remember specifics about her normal routine. She walked into her math class when she needed to be in history. She took her English book out in science. At lunch, she almost forgot to pay for her pizza. She knew she wanted to talk to Ezra, but there never seemed to be a good enough time. Too many of their other friends were around. Finally, after her last class, French, she headed to her locker to retrieve her red jacket. Sighing she tucked the cool lock in her hand and spun the dial. With a little clink, the lock opened and she reached inside her cubby. As her hand brushed against her sleek coat, she noticed a white Post-it note attached to the door. Yet, no matter how much she squinted at it, she could not see any words written on the sticky note's surface. That's helpful, Ezra, she thought. A blank note is totally going to help me tell a story. Then a realization struck Magdhina and she pulled on her jacket. Her heart twirled in her body and her feet pattered against the ground. She raced down the hallway to the main lobby, barely noticing any of the other students milling around her. As she scampered outside, the wind blasted her face, but Magdhina's thoughts centered only on her story. Once there was a girl who found a Post-it note in her locker. It promised her a great journey, but she had to go through a secret door in her French classroom's closet... Words jumped in her mind and Magdhina almost laughed at how simple this all had become. Crystal had been right. Stories were all around her. She had just needed to be patient enough to find one. Soon, she was at the edge of the forest. Her shoes buried into the icy snow and she shivered. "Crystal," she called. "I have a story." And so, Magdhina waited to begin her adventure. The sun shone down at her through the clouds and if she was quiet enough, Magdhina could just hear the soft tip-toeing of foxes. Thank you for reading! If you like my story, please don't be afraid to give it a share. Comments are always welcome and I love hearing your thoughts. Question: What story would you tell the foxes?
I don't know what to do, Summer thought as she sat at her usual lunch table. She stared at the grimy surface that was only ever present at a high school. Summer knew that she should take out her lunch box, but she found she couldn't get her body to cooperate. It was one of those days where, for no apparent reason, nothing seemed right. Too many thoughts whirled around in her mind. Everything could go wrong. "Hey, Summer!" She looked up to see her friend Sol striding towards her with a tray of food in their hands. Summer plastered a smile on her face. "Oh, hi Sol." The enby nodded at Summer. "Our first day of actual play practice is tomorrow!" If Summer was her normal self, she would have felt overjoyed. She and Sol were the play managers and had been working hard since the summer figuring out all the logistics. Now, it was December and their efforts were finally starting to pay off. But instead of leaping out of her seat, Summer simply twirled some of her long blonde hair around her finger. "There's just so much we have to take care of though." Sol thumped into the seat beside her and their short black hair swayed against their light brown forehead. A frown etched their face "Hey," they said, "Meet me after school." ~~~ Summer waited in the lobby for Sol. Her blue backpack weighed down on her shoulders and even with her silver coat on, she still felt cold as the main doors thudded open and closed. People from all grades who recognized her as a play manager waved to her as they passed. Summer somehow returned their greetings with smiles, but she could not prevent hopelessness from creeping in. These people were depending on her. Maybe they shouldn't, she thought to herself. "Summer!" She twisted around to face her friend. She gave them a small grin. "Hi, Sol." Sol grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the doors. "Let's go," they exclaimed. The early winter wind eased itself around her cheeks and Summer trembled. She gripped her hand tighter around Sol's and felt glad for their warmth. The sun glared down at them from off into the distance and pockets of snow decked the grass lawn that surrounded the school. "Where are we going, Sol?" Her friend didn't answer and so they continued on their way past apartments and parking lots, past little shops and restaurants. The air seemed to warm around them and Summer felt her body tensing less. Soon they were in a neighborhood that Summer recognized as being on the opposite side of town to her own. She could see a glint of the blue lake behind rows of capes and colonials. "Isn't today a bit too cold for the lake?" Summer whispered. Sol paused and beamed at her. "It'll be quiet and plus, I brought something to keep us busy." Summer frowned at her friend, but still clutched their hand. Sol led her down to a little stone pathway between two houses. Summer, nervous that the property owners would spot them and tell them to run, kept her attention on the side windows of the homes. To her relief, no movement stirred. Finally, they made it to a wooden picnic table that sat toward the edge of the lake. The surface was damp from melting snow and little splinters were scattered around the top. "This is even worse than our school's tables," Summer groaned. Sol shrugged. They let go of her hand and sat on the bench. "It's not too unpleasant and the people living here have always allowed me to hang out here." The enby shook off their backpack and unzippered it so they could begin scrounging through the piles of items tucked inside. "Come sit," they called to Summer with their body still bent over their backpack. Sighing, Summer obliged and took a seat across from Sol. The table creaked and the wetness seeped into her jeans. Summer shivered. "Got it!" Sol blurted. They plopped a silver box of dominoes onto the uneven table. "You carry that all day with you?" Summer asked. A smile dipped onto her face. "Yeah, you never know when you're going to need it." Sol began opening the tin container. Summer peered at the lake rippling behind her. Brown leaves left over from Autumn clung to the deep blue liquid and Summer could almost taste the apple cider that made her love that season. She turned back to her friend. "You know, Sol, this table is too jagged to easily play dominoes on." Sol raised an eyebrow at her. "Who made the rule saying the surface has to be smooth?" Summer laughed. Hope spiraled into her body for the first time that day. Thank you for reading! If you like my story, please don't be afraid to give it a share. Comments are always welcome and I love hearing your thoughts. Question: When was a time a friend cheered you up?
|
AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
Click image for a list of social justice and mental health resources. Archives
January 2024
Categories
All
|