if she had waited a bit longer

she would have been handed flowers

if the bus had not arrived early then he would have seen her

if there had been no crowd he would have spotted her stepping onto the bus

if the driver had not stopped at the red light she would have been in a crash

if he had walked back to the bus stop sooner he would have spotted the bus at the light

if she had turned to look behind before the bus made a right turn she might have seen him holding the bouquet

if the driver had not slammed on the brakes as he turned the dog would have been hit

if he had called her earlier she would have asked the driver to stop and gotten off the bus

if she had not sent the text he would have thought she stood him up

if the birds had not landed near his path he would have been (almost) hit by a motorbike

if we had set a time to meet then we would not have been worried about missing the movie

if you’d showed up earlier we would be enjoying the movie in 3-D

if you ask me to see another movie let’s make sure we also know what times the movie is showing

if I buy the tickets in advance we better not miss our movie time

if we make it on time maybe we can also go shopping right after the movie

#TouteAffecteToute ©

09.09.2020

I guess that was the summer of drinking oxygen instead of soda

Pretending scars exist only on the outside

And blaming shivers of hunger pains on the chilly morning forecast

I spent last winter not quite asleep but never really conscious

Realizing heaven’s just a place I can’t fly to

Watching the birds soar past my window on paper thin wings

Nearly touching the sun, reminding me I could never and

Scolding Icarus for even trying

Springtime brought cherry blossoms and maybe a fresh start with her

I nourished the roses on my front lawn with blood and tears

Casting away the remnants of you

That was the first night I slept peaceful

And I guess that morning I finally woke up

Maybe that was the day I learned to stop trusting you

And start putting faith in myself

I guess it was then that I let the sweet flowers cover me in their leaves and vines

Douse me in nectar with butterfly wing kisses on my freckles

Huddling for warmth instead of engulfing myself in your cold arms

I used to fear you leaving, fleeing shadow running tall

Now I fear nothing at all

Teddy was up and out before Mama woke up – not easy to do since she was always awake before the sun, feedin’ the wood stove, huntin’ down eggs in the chicken coop to make with bacon – when they had it – and grits for Teddy’s breakfast. She couldn’t say no if he didn’t ask was how he thought about it.

With a small bundle of bread leftover from supper, Teddy slipped out the door with nary a sound, and ran bare foot into the nearby woods. He’d left his fishing pole and bucket by the old sycamore, so he grabbed them almost without stopping. He would have whooped for joy if he weren’t afraid it would wake Mama. Sometimes he thought she could hear ants crawling.

Teddy was goin’ fishing. They was gonna have fish for supper tonight.

When Teddy got to his favorite spot, the sun was just coming up over the Blue Ridge. He dug around a bit, found a few worms, put one on the hook and tossed it into the water; then lay back with his hands behind his head, watching the sky come alive.

It was his favorite time of day.

Teddy and Mama lived alone in their little lean to, quite a ways from town. His daddy died fightin’ in some war, Mama said, kind of proud-like but always real sad. They didn’t have much, he knew, but they always made do. Mama was magic like that.

Today, Teddy was five. Almost a man, he had thought as he lay awake staring in the dark last night. So I should help Mama, his thoughts continued. I’m gonna catch us some dinner, that’s what I’m gonna do, he decided just before he drifted off.

Teddy heard a little splash. He looked towards the water and saw his line jerking.

“Well, hot dog!” he exclaimed, grabbing his pole and pulling. “Well, ain’t you a sight!” he said, pulling the fish out of the water and dumping it in the bucket after removing the hook. “One more like you and Mama and I will have the best birthday dinner ever!”

Teddy had been sittin’ there a spell when he heard movement in the brush nearby.

“Hello?” he said peering into the high grass. “Mama?” he said. No one else would be out this way so early.

Before he had a chance to wonder himself into a fit of the heebie jeebies, dontcha know, a big ball of fluff came sniffing – heading straight for Teddy’s bucket.

“Well, my my my. Whose doggie is you, fella?” Teddy said eying the dog eying his fish.

The dog wagged his tail as he slowly made his way closer to boy and fish.

“You awful far from home, doggie. Ain’t nobody live ’round here but Mama and me.”

The dog sat and looked at him, head tilted as if listening…or asking.

“You hungry, fella?”

The dog’s tail just thumped the ground.

“Well, I don’t think you’d like raw fish, but you can have a piece of my bread. You want some bread, fella?”

The tail thumped again.

Teddy took a small piece of bread from his loaf and put it on the ground between him and the dog. Before he sat back on his heels the bread was gone and the puppy was sitting watching him, head tilted, tail pounding the ground.

Teddy laughed.

“You eat faster than I do, boy. Your name Lightning?”

Thump.

“That’s what I’ma call you. Lightning. You want to come home with me, boy?”

Thump.

“You can be my best friend.”

Thump, thump.

“I ain’t never had a friend. Mama said when I go to school, I’ma have lots of friends. I don’t know though. I’d rather stay home with Mama.”

Thump.

“I don’t know if Mama will let me keep you, though, boy. I’m a handful, Mama says. But I’ll take care of you. Real good. I can even come fishin’ every morning so we can have enough food for all three of us. You’ll see.”

Thump.

“You could be my birthday present! Mama couldn’t say no to that.”

“Well, Teddy, you got that right,” Mama said as she came out of the woods, “since this little ball o’ nothin’ is your birthday gift.”

“Mama! Mama? What? Mine? Can I name him Lightning? Can he sleep with me? Can he come to school with me, too? How did you know where I was?”

“Boy, you could make a top spin with all your questions,” Mama said sitting down and pulling Teddy on her lap. Lightening lay looking at them, tail swishing side to side.

“Where’d you get’im, Mama?”

“Last month, old Mr. Sheffield’s dog had some babies. He offered me one for you last time I went to his store. I had mentioned you were turning five soon and he said, a boy like that needs a dog. And I thought, that might be right nice,” Mama said, hugging Teddy close. “He dropped him off at sunup to surprise you. ’Course, you surprised us instead,” Mama chuckled. “It didn’t take me but a minute to know where you must’ve gone.”

Teddy heard a splash in the water.

“A fish!” he squealed jumping out of Mama’s lap and snatching his pole. Grabbing the fish he held it up as Lightening pranced about yipping. “I caught us dinner, Mama!”

“Aren’t you my little man,” Mama said, tearing up. “Thank you, baby. Why don’t we all go home for breakfast, now?”

Pole and bucket in one hand, Mama’s hand in the other, Teddy looked at Lightning, all smiles, and said, “C’mon boy. We’re going home.”

Eba was born to a beautiful mother whom a priest could not leave alone. She consented to his advances because she needed his support in education and a roof over her head in the monastery. But when she became pregnant she was told by the priest to hide in the monastery for nuns on the mountains of Benguet.

Eba’s mother thought her daughter would come out with horns on head instead of a garland of flowers, like the statuettes in the church of the priest because she was a woman of sin. But she came out smelling of Ylang Ylang and was marked with a beautiful flower on the back of her shoulder. Her mother, however bled to death having spilt her first instance of breast milk on the lips of her child.

The child grew up in the mountains where Ylang Ylang abounded to soothe unwed mothers whom they took in. They were usually love children of priests and their servant women. Her mother must have inhaled enough of this rare flower as she waited for her due to give birth.

Eba was always marked by dirt of the soil for she always played outside instead of the hand me down dolls for children of her kind. She ate cakes of mud because they tasted raw and true. She was hungry for honesty. When she asked the nuns about her mother, they simply told her that her mother was the wife of a farmer who loved the heady loam of the soil where he planted rice in the terraces carved on the side of mountains.

Eba would crush the Ylang Ylang and painted flowers from the juices on parchment papers which she stole from the desk of the prioress who always secretly knew and allowed this to go on, marveling at the flowers the child could paint from mere effusion of their flowers.

Soon, the child was a young woman who painted frescoes on the walls of their monastery. She was apprenticed by no less than a master painter of the country who climbed the mountains of Benguet to witness the wonder of the young woman who could paint swirl flowers with such detail and whimsical quality it delighted everyone at the nunnery. Eba was considered a child prodigy who studied how to paint by herself by studying old books on the shelves of the old library. She would paint while the cold wind whipped her hair about for she kept it free from being tied down.

Eba painted flowers as huge as humans on their walls and since she painted using the emulsions of flowers, they always smelt strongly of their scent that filled the halls of the nunnery. Children marveled at the huge flowers and soon she was teaching them herself on how to extract juice from the flowers to paint whatever their hearts desired.

Eba could tell the children painted from their dreams and they were always pleasant dreams because they could smell the flowers everywhere including the flowers they hid inside their pillows at night.

The frescoes she painted were of female saints and she dreamt of being one herself. But, she was pulled from the nunnery by a doctor who wanted her for his wife. He would come to the mountains to alleviate the sick and the dying nuns. There he witnessed the beautiful flower paintings and asked to meet the beautiful painter of such flowers. He was immediately entranced by her beauty and asked the nuns for her hand in marriage.

A carriage was sent to the mountain nunnery and soon was asked to pack her few belongings to bring with her to her future husband. The nuns insisted it was all meant for her own good and that she could paint much more varieties of flowers with the good doctor given he had a garden of flowers which she surely would find a delight.

Indeed the garden was a sight to behold, surrounding his large house which he maintained alone. He helped her down from the carriage and led her to her room which was filled with various fruits and flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors which filled her spirit with gratitude for being delivered to this place which made her spirit soar because she was overwhelmed with gratitude and love.

They were married in a little church outside town and she wore a lace gown passed down from generations of wives of doctors in the family. The church was filled with Ylang Ylang flowers because she requested it from her future husband.

But at night, after his duties to his wife, he would leave the house and would mysteriously take the carriage and disappear for the rest of the night, slipping back into their marital bed before the crack of dawn.

One night as they both sat down for dinner, she pulled an Ylang Ylang from the bouquet in the middle of the table among the fruits and sweet meats. She then proceeded to eat it one by one, to which the doctor ran from his end of the table aghast and pumped her stomach for her to vomit the flowers what she took in.

That night, the doctor bathed her in an emulsion of flowers and sponged her back with the mark of a flower. He kissed the flower on her back and wrapped her in a thick towel.

Ever since then, he never left their marital bed at night and the pain of that night dissipated with the arrival of a baby boy which enjoined them together enough to later read their son’s novel as a testament to his parent’s love for each other.