Next Door

Anna pulled aside curtains of long branches, lightly moving the twigs to reveal more jade stalks. While playing on her porch, she had heard a door open and feet scuffle, noises from the house next door. But a tall, dense wall of hedges blocked the neighbor’s house from view.

She had decided to explore.

And now, Anna was lost in a green sea, drowning in scratchy leaves.

She hadn’t meant to go so far in. Curiosity made her push a few stalks to the side, trying only to catch a glimpse. Nothing could be seen, so she kept inching forward until she was here—standing in the middle of a green forest with no notion of how to get out. It was as though she were trapped in an emerald gem—a beautiful prison.

Pushing and pulling against the branches, Anna forced her way forward. Tiny twigs scratched her face, leaves entangled themselves in her hair, and the ribbons of her dress trailed behind her, trapped in the foliage. Her interest in the noise next door had given way to a desire to escape and Anna spurred onwards, uncaring of the direction, ignoring the crackling of breaking twigs and the munching of her shoes stomping on leaves.

Growing nervous, Anna reached out her hand, but met only empty space and no more pesky twigs. A smile broadened her rosy cheeks. She had reached the end.

Excited, she ignored her judgment and jumped through the opening, catching her ankle on a branch. Twisting in midair, she landed in wet grass with a thud, finally dirtying her dress beyond repair. But that didn’t matter. Above her, blue stretched across a cloudless sky and there was no sign of a green anything.

She was free.

Giggling with mirth, Anna stood and began to clean herself off—pulling at the little stems in her hair and plucking the bush leaves that had attached to her knotted brown tresses.

“Excuse me?”

Anna straightened immediately and turned slowly towards the sound.

A boy stood behind her with his weight resting on one leg and his head cocked inquisitively to the side. He had shaggy black hair and deep brown skin made warm by the sun. Next to his feet stood a stack of pristine white paper, ruffling slightly in the breeze but held down by a rock. In his hand, resting between relaxed fingers, was one bright sheet, luminous in the sunlight. It was tightly folded together in the shape of a triangle.

“What are you doing?” Anna stepped a little closer.

She had never been so alone with a boy—her mother was usually around, and in school, she only played with her friends. During summer, the hedges of her vacation home usually held her trapped.

But not today.

“What am I doing?” He asked, while looking at her strangely, brows scrunched and lips slightly upturned.

“Yes…with that paper?” She was hesitant, nervous to talk to him and wondering if she should just fight her way back through the hedge.

“Making paper airplanes,” he said with a shrug and then slowly creased the sheet with his thumb.

The boy didn’t ask why she had come, and Anna didn’t know what to do. He had turned away from her, back to the project by his feet. So she just stood for a moment, unsure, watching him fold the paper. Her eyes flicked around the yard, a nervous habit. Over his shoulder stood a towering house, just like hers, with a wrap around porch and peachy walls. So familiar. So foreign.

Anna looked at the boy again. He was still ignoring her, working on his papers, so she sat down next to him to watch. He folded one side, then flipped the paper quickly around and folded again, flipped again, folded again, and suddenly he held a perfectly formed plane in his hand.