The Green Eyed Boy

Chapter 2

As the week went by Rosie had almost forgotten Charlie and the acorn. She had been helping her aunt build a little do-it-yourself greenhouse in the backyard. They had planning to start growing tomatoes and cucumbers since Rosie was five and her mother got into gardening. When the greenhouse finally got ready, it wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. The nails were sticking out and it was crooked. ''It is ugly and weird looking, but I think it will do the job.'' Tessa said and wiped sweat off of her forehead. It just got hotter as the days went by, and even Rosie wished for a little rain. Rosie had gotten horrible tan lines from her t-shirt. ''That's true. I'm going to go freshen up. I don't think I can bare this heat anymore.'' Rosie said and took of her gardening gloves. Her palms were sweating heavily so she wiped them on her shirt.

Rosie washed her face with cool water. She suddenly felt a strong want to go swimming. Rosie thought about how the cold fresh water would feel on her skin. And then for the first time in a long time she truly missed her mother. She missed her mothers wavy hazel colored hair and tiny freckles on her cheeks. She missed her mothers painted nails and how she would hold Rosie in her arms and read whatever book she was reading. They had lived a perfect life, in a prefect house. And then everything changed. Just weeks before Rosie had turned seven her mother got killed. A drunk driver hit their car and Rosie's mother died at the hospital. 

Rosie looked at her teary eyes through the mirror. She looked nothing like her mother. Her face didn't have the warmth and love her mother's did. Her eyes were more gray than her mother's. Rosie's hair was more ginger or red. She had gotten all that from her father. Sometimes it made her angry. Her father became very depressed after her mother's death, and Rosie was forgotten. Rosie hated that she looked more like her father, the person who had left her alone when she needed someone the most. In time she did learn to like dad again. But still, some days she felt left alone again. 

Rosie put her hair up in a ponytail and pulled on a fresh white t-shirt, an put on her mother's overalls that she had cut into shorts. Rosie took her paint, brushes, pens and papers, and shoved it all in her red backpack. She looked around the guest room she was staying in. Rosie had kept the place fairly tidy. You couldn't really tell anyone was staying there. The only tell was her open travel bag full of clothes and art supplies.

She dragged Tessa's old bike from the shed. It used to be green, but now it was merely the color of metal. It had been in that shed for as long as Rosie could remember. The bike had been locked away for years, left to the spiders and the moisture of the air to take care of. Rosie took a chance in riding it. The rusty bike could easily brake under the weight of a fly. 

She rode the bike all the way to the Redbird's poppy field. The Redbird's used to grow poppies when Rosie was a kid, but after Mrs Redbird died, the field was left. Mr Redbird, otherwise known as poppy-eyed Sam, moved to another town, just like everyone else. Rosie breathed in the dry earth-smell, if she focused hard enough she could almost smell the poppies. The smell always reminded her of possibilities. The little town of Oakwood didn't have much to offer. She had it all planned out. She would become an artist, just like her mother. But it was because of her mother, why she felt the passion towards it. It was like the passion was gone. It was left at a shed, just like aunt-Tessa's bike.

She sat in the dried grass cross legged. She painted the poppies bright red and the ground black. And for a while, everything felt like it was okay. And then she saw him at the corner of her eye. Charlie. 

''That is very nice. Nothing like what I draw.'' he said with his little voice. Rosie smiled and patted the ground next to her. The kid sat down and crossed his legs. ''You know Rosie. I know a place, much nicer than this. I always go there when I'm sad. I think it could make you happy too!'' Rosie glanced at the boy with confusion in her eyes. ''What makes you think I'm unhappy?'' For a moment Charlie was completely quiet, he only stared at her face. It was like he was looking for clues. ''Because when you smile, you don't smile with your eyes.'' he said as he looked down and started picking the grass.

Rosie swallowed. This kid is weird. How does he even- Never mind. You shouldn't be surprised that crazy people live in this town. Rosie looked at Charlie picking the grass. ''So... When could you take me to your happy place?'' The boys face brightened and Rosie could now understand what he meant by smiling with your eyes. There were little wrinkles around his eyes. ''I can't today. My grandmother wont let me go there. We have visitors coming. Maybe tomorrow. I'll find you. I always do.''