Rose in Summer

People changed in the steamy glow of summer. There was something about the thick air perfumed with magnolias that messed with the chemicals in people’s brains. People talked slow, drove fast, and stopped thinking all together. Summer was an infectious disease, and no one was immune…except for Rose Elicott, who, with her sensible shoes and black cardigans, seemed to think otherwise. As Principal of Hollow Oaks Elementary school, Rose wasn’t thinking of the summer unwinding outside her office window, but of the autumn that would follow it. Outside of her office door, Rose knew, the halls of the school were empty and clean, the last day of school already two weeks behind her. She sighed and turned in her chair to face the window next to her desk. In her chilled air-conditioned office, condensation fogged up the glass, but she continued to look vaguely out the window. The landscape of the school was certainly beautiful, with small trees standing like posts in various spots of the lawn, and the grass a cool freshly-cut green. In the distance Rose saw the tops of rolling hills with the sun shining brightly beyond them. Suddenly, in one of the trees closest to her office window, Rose saw a flash of red appear on one of the boughs. Zeroing in on the red blur, Rose saw that it was a bird. Her mouth suddenly dry, she began thinking fervently of every type of red bird typical of Virginia, and wished more than anything that she had her guide book with her. The bird was a deep red, with yellow eyes that looked almost electric. She watched it with the interest of a child seeing an exotic animal for the first time: her eyes were wide, her fingers trembled. She had no idea what type of species it was, but the longer she watched it, the more strongly she felt that it was lost. It didn’t belong in the humid Virginia air, and Rose watched desperately as it flew with nervous little spurts around the trees on the lawn. As she watched the bird, she felt-not for the first time-a painful kind of longing in her stomach, and a dangerous stinging in her eyes. She was mesmerized by it-so mesmerized, that when three quick knocks sounded on her office door, she jumped. “Uh, come in,” she said, a little too loudly, and she found herself blushing. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat up in her seat. She wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, especially not the person who opened the door.                              “Ms. Ponner,” Rose said. “I…I didn’t know you were here.” Liz Ponner, the 4^th grade English teacher, smiled as she walked into the room. Wearing a yellow polka-dot sundress and brown sandals, she looked thoroughly out of place in Rose’s shadowy office. “Hi, Rose,” Liz said, her own voice high and chipper. “I was driving past the school and saw your car in the parking lot. I thought I’d come in and say hi.” She smiled graciously, as if she was the greatest person to ever grace the doorway of Rose’s office. Rose lifted the corners of her mouth slightly in an almost-smile and said, “How kind of you. You didn’t have to do that.” She stood up and waved her arm over the wooden chair situated in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”                                                                       “Thank you, Rose, but I can’t stay,” Liz said, walking over to the desk. She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Rose, saying, “I just wanted to give you this. It’s an invitation to an end-of-school barbeque at my house next weekend. Almost the whole faculty will be there.” Rose looked down at the invitation. It was bright yellow with the words “we made it!” across the top in a curly-Q font. It took everything Rose had not to roll her eyes. Instead, she looked back up at Liz. “How kind of you,” she said again, barely concealing the tremble in her voice. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” Visibly disappointed, Liz said, “But it won’t be the same without you there. I was so hoping you would come.” Rose felt her face turn red. “I’m sure you’ll all have a good time anyway. Thank you for dropping by, Mrs. Ponner.” Looking down at her sandals, Liz said, “Well. If you change your mind, my address is on the invitation. And don’t worry about bringing anything,” she added as she followed Rose to the door. “We’re ordering plenty of food. I think you’d have a good time. You know, if you came.” Rose pulled her sweater tighter around herself. “Thank you, again, Ms. Ponner. I’ll try to stop by…if I have the time.”                                     “Great,” Liz said, still smiling. “Well, I should probably be on my way. You look very busy.” They both glanced over at Rose’s nearly-empty desk, save for a few last-minute documents and her pen. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon, Rose,” Liz said, and with one last white smile she was gone. Rose closed her eyes and breathed deeply, leaning against the door as it closed with a heavy thud. The sound bounced around the empty office as silence settled into the room. The invitation fell softly from Rose’s hand as she once again wrapped her arms around herself.      Parties. Polka-dots. Invitations. Rose didn’t know what to make of them all. She didn’t even know what to think about Liz Ponner, who, Rose could see from her spot at the door, was driving away in her small light-blue buggy, the windows rolled all the way down. Liz was like a woman from another country, someone Rose could recognize but never fully understand. She spoke a language Rose never studied, and every time Rose talked to her she was filled with the same kind of painful longing Rose had felt when watching the red bird in the trees. Remembering the bird, Rose shot over to the window, and searched the trees and sky for the red bird she had so intently watched just minutes before. But it was no use. The trees swayed softly in the hot Virginia breeze, and Rose saw no bird residing in them. She slowly turned away from the window and sat back down at her desk. She picked up her pen and held it in her hand, without writing anything. Despite the cold air blowing through her office, she felt like she was slowly burning away, like an insect under a magnifying glass. And for a moment, she felt what she was always trying to push away: Small. Ugly. Insignificant. The feelings hit her with all the speed and intensity of a hurricane, rushing at her heart and making every limb hurt. But as soon as it came, it was gone. She flexed her fingers and toes, and took a huge deep breath. She looked up towards the ceiling and blinked quickly, willing away the stinging in her eyes. She picked up her pen once again and forced herself to think about anything except the bird, the party, the summer. Behind her, the sun was slowly descending, leaving behind a pink-lemonade sky sprinkled with stars. Not too far away, Rose knew, the students of Hollow Oaks Elementary were enjoying their summer, playing and growing and changing. She knew that when she saw them in the fall they would be taller, smarter…different. She wished that they wouldn’t change. She wished that they would never grow old. And later that evening, as she packed up her things and exited the school into the still night, a small voice in Rose’s head wished more than anything that she could change right along with them.                                Rose quickly pushed down this whispered desire, however, and walked across the deserted parking lot toward her car. All around her, the night was coming alive: crickets chirped, frogs croaked, and somewhere in the distance she heard talking and laughter coming from nearby houses. Families being together, loving each other, enjoying one another’s company. The very idea of it made Rose’s brain hurt. Why couldn’t she have that? What was the secret ingredient she had neglected to learn? Liz Ponner’s face appeared before her as she drove out of the parking lot. Sure, they were different people, but why did Liz seem to be so much more...everything? She had more style, more flair, more confidence. Why couldn’t Rose have “more” of something for once? Rose shook her head as she drove, attempting to empty her head of the questions she never allowed herself to ask. The drive home from work was always the worst for Rose. There were too few turns before she was home. In the autumn mornings, Rose could make herself get out of bed with the thought that, in an hour, she’d be getting away. She’d be going where her voice didn’t echo off the walls and where music could be played for more than her own ears. She welcomed autumn and its many distractions, but the summer gave her too much time to think. The summer meant days spent talking to empty rooms and dinners alone at the table. Time seemed to slow to a halt. It took all of Rose’s willpower to not get in her car and drive away, far away, into wherever those hills lead. As Rose turned onto her own dimly-lit street, she felt an acidic dread churning in her stomach. Ahead of her she saw, like a haunted house in a horror movie, her house come into view. Despite the soothing warmth of the air, Rose felt a chill trickle down her spine as she neared her driveway. She felt as if she was driving up to the house of a stranger, as opposed to the house she had grown up in. She almost felt the urge to knock on the front door, but, forcing out a laugh at her own ridiculousness, she unlocked it instead.                                  “Lucy, I’m home,” she called, mimicking a line from one of her favorite TV shows, I Love Lucy. The words seemed to vanish into the gloom of the house as soon as she said them. Chuckling at her own joke, she walked into the kitchen and placed her bag on the kitchen table. She opened the door to her refrigerator, stared at what was inside, and then closed it again. She’d have to check the expiration dates on all the canned food tomorrow. Thinking vaguely of the bird she had seen earlier in the day, she wondered where it had gone. Picking up her bag from the table, Rose left the kitchen and walked slowly up the stairs and into her bedroom. Maybe the bird had flown south, towards even warmer weather, she thought to herself. She dropped her things onto her nightstand and fell onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe the bird flew in the other direction, towards the hills. She’d have to check her bird-watching guide book in the morning. She thought about the yellow invitation in her purse and wished she could make it disappear. She kicked off her shoes, sat up, and faced the full-length mirror that hung on her wall. She felt like she was looking at a ghost. Her hair hung limply around her face like dusty curtains. Her face was pale and skinny in the moonlight streaming in through her window, and her dark eyes looked like black holes. She hoped the bird was safe, wherever it was. She turned off her light and crawled under the covers of her bed, allowing the darkness to overcome her. And for a moment, she also allowed herself to hope the bird was free.

Reviews

[Emma Joy]

Grrr the format/paragraphs got all messed up, again...please ignore the paragraph problems the best you can!