It was their tree. At least, that's the way he thought of it. Out in the middle of the glen, a majestic sweep across the sky, its branches reaching out for what seemed like miles, its shadow casting an ebony coolness, a comforting protection against the hot Georgia sun.
It was here that he had first kissed her. It was here that they first embraced. He had brought a blanket, a picnic basket filled with fried chicken, tater chips, and pralines. He had even brought a cold thermos of her favorite drink, his homemade blueberry lemonade. They ate. They talked and laughed. One time, she snorted the lemonade out her nose, losing it during his story of his first muffed line in a school play.
Then they kissed. They embraced under the shadow of the mighty Oak.
And then, things changed.
He saw her no more. Even though they lived less than a mile apart, they no longer saw each other. Except on Facebook Live. It was not the same.
He ached to see her. He did not mean to constantly bother her with it. He could not stop himself.
Finally, she gave in. She agreed to meet him out here, by their beloved tree.
He could see her approaching from the other side of the glen. His heart sped up. She was dressed as she often was, blue jeans and a t-shirt that, like today's, most often celebrated her high school band. Her auburn hair swirled around her, dancing in the slight breeze.
As she got closer, he could see the twinkle in her hazel-green eyes. But could not see her smile.
That smile was behind her mask. It was something she had made, designed like a cat, with painted whiskers and a feline pinkish nose. It covered her, from her chin to the bridge of her nose. Nothing about it inhibited her beauty. It just made her stand out all the more.
She got about six feet away from him, and then she stopped.
"Hey," he said. "Long time, no see."
"Silly," she said. "I just saw you this morning on Facebook Chat."
"Not the same." He took a step towards her, arms out, ready to embrace her.
"Stay back!" she warned. "And please, put your mask on."
He did as he was told. "It's okay. I don't have it."
"You probably don't. But you can't say for sure. Many people have it, and they don't know they have it, and then they carry it to others."
"But I'm well. I'm sure. No one I come into contact with has it. Where would I get it from?"
He could see a tear forming just below her left eye. "I'm sorry. I have to be over-cautious. We live with Nana. If I brought it to her and she got it, I could never live with myself."
"But we're both wearing masks. We should be safe."
"That's the key, though. We should be. But no one knows for sure. I can't take that chance."
He didn't know what to say. He wanted to hold her so bad, and he kind of thought she might be overreacting, but he had to respect her feelings. He would not belittle her concerns.
They talked for a good long while. The shadows from the Oak moved as time passed. They shifted with them to stay in the shade.
He wanted it to last forever. But eventually, it came to an end. She was going to leave.
She reached behind her back and brought out a small manila envelope she must have had wedged into the top of her jeans. "Here. I brought you this." She laid it on the ground in front of her. "This won't last forever. Sooner or later, we'll be back here, and we can get much...closer."
"I'd like that," he managed to croak out.
"I won't forget about you," she said. Her tears were flowing freely now. "I'll hold on to the memory of our embrace. I dream of that day."
And then, she was leaving.
He lay frozen in the shadow. After a long minute, he got the envelope and opened it up.
It was a drawing, a beautiful black and white portrait of the two of them, embracing, under the shadow of their tree.
He held the picture next to his heart. Now the tears were coming from him.
Now he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
They would survive the terrible shadow of the virus's embrace.
And then embrace themselves, under the Oak's shadow, or in the light of day, or anywhere their heart's desired.
No comments:
Post a Comment