This piece of short-fiction is yet another representation of the various stepping stones, with a particular focus on young people. In this piece, there are many stepping stone transitions happening for many characters as a result of one person's decision. This shows that while we grow, our loved ones tend to grow along with us. This piece also represents the difficult choices we must make in our lives, which are tough but necessary not only for our personal development, but also to ensure that we always keep moving forward. Once again, since this story is related to my current life experiences, I thought it would be interesting to write about.
For miles it goes, spanning the eye’s view until it dips
away, following the horizon. Lush and bright and a farmer’s dream: the
never-ending ocean of grass that grows on fertile soil. Cornrows here, a field
of raspberry crops there, but on the Jenestine’s property it’s all grass, all
green and smile-inducing. And it is on the Jenestine’s property, up the dirt
path that leads away from the main market, through full-leaved trees, along
that rickety fence where the wheezing, twitching truck is standing now, where
Ollie grows.
“Go tell your sister to come down!” Mama commanded
through her tears. “Go get that girl down here right now!”
Mama kept waving the big kitchen towel in the direction
of the grand staircase. The oven-top was boiling with overflowing jam in a hot
pot, and Kitty the dog had found his way inside the house, covered in fleas and
mud, but Mama paid no attention to anything.
“SARA!!!!” she bellowed, and then let out a hic and a
sob. “YOU GET DOWN HERE SO I CAN SEE YOU ONE LAST TIME!!!”
Ollie was busy chewing on a licorice stick that Papa had
snuck into the house a couple of days ago. When Mama finally turned her
red-rimmed eyes onto him and opened her mouth to let out another loud holler,
he jumped off his high stool and stuffed the candy into his mouth in a hurry.
“Alright, alright,” he said. “I’ll get her.”
Ollie was ten, but Sara was eighteen. It was the first
day of August that had caused this ruckus in the Jenestine household—a nice
sunny day with no clouds, except for the rain Mama was spraying everywhere she
went. Up the stairs and to the end of the hallway, beside the big open window,
was the un-matching wooden door to his sister’s room. Ollie paused in front of
it to finish the licorice that was still in his mouth. Inside, he heard voices.
It was all giggles and stifled hysterics coming from Sara’s
room. A sudden BAM! as something was knocked over from her desk, and more
laughter. Then there were heavy footsteps running across the floor that weren’t
Sara’s, and more squealing. After a while, silence, except for the occasional
loud whisper.
Ollie stood still as a soldier, staring at the
beige-coloured door that Sara had threw a fit over two years ago. “I’m a girl! My door can’t be dark poop-brown!”
she had screamed, and Papa had catered to her whining.
When he thought the whispers were gone, Ollie put his
hand on the plastic doorknob and turned it open. He peeked inside and caught
Sara hanging out the window, still laughing at the head full of brown hair that
was climbing down the Jenestine’s decorative vines. Ollie waited patiently, putting
his hand on his hip and letting the door swing wide open. Finally, Sara turned
around.
Her cheeks were flushed red from all the laughing she had
been doing. She wiped at her forehead and then immediately noticed her brother
standing in the entrance to her room with his eyebrows tightly knitted. She
laughed again, much to his frustration, and then addressed him, “Hey Ollie. How
you doing?”
“Was that your boyfriend again.” He did not make it sound
like a question in the slightest.
Sara rolled her eyes and walked past Ollie, ready to go
deal with Mama and her dramatic performance. “No, it was the tooth fairy, come
to give me some extra spending money.”
Ollie pounded after his sister down the grand staircase. “Papa
said he can’t climb into your window anymore!”
Sara waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not like I’ll see
him again! Jeez Ollie, let me have some of my moments.”
They were in the kitchen now and Ollie’s eyes were wide. “You’re
not taking him with you?”
But there was no time to reply, because suddenly Mama
dropped the big wooden spoon and thundered across the tiny space. She made as
if she was going to strangle Sara, but instead enveloped her in a tight
Mama-hug. There were tears and snot and lots of hiccups. “My baby!” Mama cried.
“My baby is leaving me to be with the crocodiles!”
This was when Papa walked in on the whole scene, just in
time to hear Sara reply, “They aren’t crocodiles, Mama. They’re more like
celebrities!”
Papa made a face and signaled for Ollie to give Mama and
Sara some alone time. Obediently, Ollie ventured outside and found himself standing
on the recently-watered lawn, and soon Kitty bounded up to him as well. “Let’s
get some licorice,” Ollie decided.
Down the dusty Jenestine path and to the left was the
main market. This is where Ollie found David sitting at his usual booth with
the cherry tomatoes. His cheek was swollen—probably the consequence for
sneaking out to see Sara again—and his eyes were rimmed red just like Mama’s.
Ollie put on his best mean-face and ventured over to him
while Kitty leapt away to be with the other dogs. “You look like a girl,” he
remarked.
David looked up once and then wiped his nose on his
sleeve again. “Crying ain’t only for girls, little fool,” he replied. It sounded
weird, like he was getting over a cold. “Hey, little man, be there for Sara
when she calls home and cries about how much she misses me, alright? My old man
cut off the land-line so I wouldn’t talk to her no more, but I’m going to write
letters.” He beat his fist into his palm, like he meant it.
Ollie picked up one of the cherry tomatoes and rolled it
between his thumb and forefinger. He contemplated his next move, all the while
being stared down by a nearly-weeping David. “Hm…okay.” Ollie popped the tomato
into his mouth. It gushed, fresh and sweet. “But she’s not sad. She said she’s
not taking you with her.”
David looked absolutely stabbed. “Of course she isn’t
taking me with her,” he replied rather harshly. “I’m going to school here. Like
the rest of us.” He muttered the last part with a coat of bitterness.
Ollie shrugged and stole another handful of tomatoes.
Then, he waved goodbye to David, who looked to be in a worst state than when
Ollie had first arrived, and sauntered over to the candy stand. Sitting behind
the wide wooden booth, newspaper in hand, was Mr. Rivers. He looked up from
under his thick glasses, and it took him a while to recognize the kid in front
of him.
“If it isn’t Jenestine’s little brother!” He laughed loud
and long, and then threw the newspaper onto the stool beside him and leaned
forward. “How’s she doin’? She’s been skipping my remedial classes this summer.
Thinks she’s too good for us, does she?”
Ollie shrugged again. “I don’t know. She’s not very
smart.”
Mr. Rivers laughed again, a different kind of laugh. “Not
very smart? Hohoho, she’s smart enough to get into that big-city school! She’s
smart enough to get away from here, where all them girls go to the local
college and become nurses!” He picked up a sour peach candy and handed it to
Ollie, still grinning. “I feel like she won’t even miss the place.” He winked.
Ollie frowned at the sour peach but ate it anyway. That
last part sounded like bogus. What could be better than living in Southsire? He
had heard stories from Papa all his life, about the pollution and million
trucks and robberies in the big city. There were hardly any places like
Southsire left, where good citizens lived off the land and knew each other
since birth. In fact, Sara had heard these stories too, all this summer and
since early spring when she had revealed her plans to go to the capital city
for University. Mama had had a crying fit and the neighbours had gossiped
non-stop about the “unappreciative Jenestine daughter”, but she had stuck to
her decision anyway, like an idiot.
“I don’t think she’s very smart,” Ollie insisted.
Mr. Rivers had another good laugh at this, and then
selected the ten best licorice sticks and took Ollie’s dollar. Then, he bid him a
good afternoon. Licorice in hand, Ollie began the trek back up to his house.
It was still a scene at the Jenestine property, except
now all of the curious neighbours had showed up to watch and question Sara. The
driver in the rickety truck from the big city was getting impatient, but was
too intimidated by Papa to speak up. Instead, he had the radio turned up loud
to one of the local music stations, probably hoping to annoy everyone into
sending him away.
“The crocodiles!” Mama was still yelling, now relocated
to the front lawn with her arm still around her daughter. Papa was busy
dragging different coloured suitcases towards the truck, and Kitty, returned
home, was barking and running like mad amidst the commotion. Sara’s eyes met
Ollie’s, and she smiled, but he did not return it. Instead, he stuck another
licorice candy into his mouth and walked nonchalantly into the house, and up
the grand staircase.
Sara’s door was propped wide open, in all of its
light-beige glory, forever lowering the property value. Ollie stepped inside
and was a bit shocked at how white the room was. Sara’s desk, closet, and
basically entire bedroom had been cleared while he had gone to town. The only
remains where the fluffy pink carpet on the floor, the matching curtains, and
some paintings that were framed on the walls. “Stupid…” he muttered, and went
to sit on the edge of the large bare bed, facing out the window that David had
climbed.
From Sara’s window one could see the entire long grass
plantation that the Jenestine’s owned. The blades, growing together like one,
stretched on and on and never seemed to end. The sun was slowly working its way
down, but was half-blocked by the big oak tree that stood near the house. A few
meters up swayed a washed-out ribbon that Sara had tied to a branch that used
to poke into her room when she was little, before Ollie had been born. Ollie
stared at it, and noticed that at the base of the knot it still had a pink tone
to it. That guaranteed that it had been Sara’s doing.
Suddenly, there was a light tap on the door. Ollie turned
swiftly, as if a criminal, to see Sara with her eyes wide open standing in the
doorway. Ollie frowned and turned back to look out the window. “Why aren’t you
gone yet?” he asked.
Sara’s footsteps were unheard, but she was sitting beside
Ollie a few seconds later, also staring out of the white-paned window. “I’m
about to go,” she replied. She then added, in a bright tone, “Maybe you’ll
apply to school in the city too and we can both have families there!” She let
out a long, bell-like laugh, but was rudely interrupted by a shove to the
shoulder.
“Shut up!!!” Ollie cried, all of sudden infuriated. “You’re
so stupid! You think I’m going to leave Southsire and live in the Devil’s
city?! I know a good thing when I see it!” He pounded the wall with his foot,
letting it swing forcefully back and forth. “I won’t leave MY friends, and I
won’t leave MY neighbourhood, or Kitty, or Mama or Papa, or the fence that I
painted, or the fertilizer stand that has our name on it! I won’t leave the
haunted saw mill or the town school where I go every day! I won’t get in a
nasty truck and drive away from MY home, because I’m not a traitor like you!”
He kicked the wall one last time, and it was the strongest kick, for it left a
final dent.
He sat there, seething, but Sara made no reply. It was
quiet for a long moment, and then there was an unexpected sound.
It startled Ollie, so much that he looked up after vowing
to never see his sister again. He stared for a long while at her face, and for
the first time in his whole life that he knew her, he discovered that Sara
cried the same way that Mama did.
Flushed cheeks and squinty eyes, with ears bright red and
her nose already flowing, Sara let out a wail. “I’m not a traitooooor!” She
kicked the wall, too, and her kick left a dent right away. “I love the haunted
saw mill toooooo! And I was the one who painted the fence, not youuuuuuu!” She
sneezed without using her elbow, and then the tears streamed down. “But I need
to get away from here! This isn’t the rest of my life! Uwaaaah!”
Ollie was speechless. His mouth was wide, almost as wide
as his eyes. His sister was shaking like the old vacuum cleaner they used to
have, and was running like a leaky faucet.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Sara, hey. I’m sorry.”
Sara sniffed, hard. “I know you are.” And then she didn’t
say anything more, which left Ollie feeling incomplete.
“I really am sorry.” He made a move to touch her arm but
she suddenly turned and strangled him by the neck with her arms. Perhaps it was
a hug, but Ollie couldn’t breathe.
“I love you! You better remember that you bully!” She
wiped her nose on his sleeve and then straightened herself out. As if on cue,
the rickety city truck honked four long times from the front yard. Sara rose,
gave Ollie a smile, and then hurried out of the room as if nothing had taken
place. Ollie continued to sit, nothing but baffled, until fifteen minutes later
Papa walked into the room.
“Hey buddy,” he called, striding over. “You come to feel
sorry for yourself too?” He took a seat next to his son on the bed and let out
a long sigh. “Well, she’s gone. Can’t believe we let her go. You know, let me
tell you the story of the ribbon up in the—what in the heck is this on the
wall?!” Papa suddenly leapt up, all jumpy and pointing both index fingers at
the twin dents. “Who in the heck did this?!”
Ollie leapt up now, too. His sister was far enough away
to avoid the wrath of Papa, but he certainly wasn’t. “It was Sara!” he
hollered, and shot out of the room like an arrow, down to the kitchen where
Mama was still crying into the jam.
From upstairs, Papa’s cries came. “That little—!!! Bring
her back! Bring her back right now! Someone get her! That vandalizing, no-good
house-destroyer ain’t going nowhere!!!” There was an incredible THUD! and Mama
dropped her spoon onto the floor again.
“Dear lord, what on Earth was that?!”
Ollie, full of energy now, ran around her in circles. “There’re
three now Mama! There’re three! You go and make one too! And then even when we’re
gone, there ain’t nothing they can do to forget the Jenestine’s!” And Kitty
barked along, as well, confused yet excited by the eventful evening that had
seen more emotions than the house had been a host to in years. It was as if
suddenly, a new bright life had been given to the century-old long grass
plantation, similar to the character of a certain Sara Jenestine.
