The Secret Outside Her Window

The Trees

It is human nature to take care of ourselves instead of others.  Instead of the impending and constant thought of another that takes control, we must think of ourselves first, because we are the ones that are trying to stay alive.    Although, surviving is not thriving.  But do not confuse thriving with being social, for some of us are not social human beings, like caterpillars still in their cocoon.  To thrive, one must survive first, and thrive next; because if one does not know how to survive, they will soon to crash and burn like a bird who does not know how to fly. 

Green.  Green was the only color in the mind of Cora that struck her as amazing, deep, and satisfying.  This color was pigmented into Cora's brain as she held up her home phone to her ear with her shoulder while her hands were busy doodling on a lined notepad.   Cora's dark brown hair tickled her cheeks and caressed her jaw as she laughed at a joke that she would probably forget the next day.  Each word was wasted upon these jokes, upon the unnecessary sentences uttered by the common and joyous of people, unknowing of the consequences each word has.  But what consequences? Cora wonders, a thought trailing from her conversation with her mother, Ava.  

A strong name, Ava, is.  Although it hints at femininity, Cora also saw it as a figure, above all, commanding the light that shown through the windows and the color of the earth between her toes.  Ava was an old name, short for Evangeline, a pride that was carried through many generations of the Russak family.  A pride of which changed when Cora was born.  

Cora's eyes were soft and her gaze was rested upon her sketches, instinct to the movement of her hand and no control over the direction the #2 pencil went around the page. 

Cora blinked and adjusted her self so that her hair did not cover all of her eyes, allowing her to look upon her sketches with ease.

"...and Cora, focus now.  I want to see yourself settle down."  Ava complained.  Cora listened to every word uttered out of Ava's tight and almost non-existent lips.

"I will settle down when I'm ready, Ava." Fighting Ava was an uphill battle, if it wasn't done her way, it wasn't done right.  She chewed on the end of her pencil, only adding to the marks and dents.

"Hm."  Cora could feel Ava's disappointment through her phone, but she only shrugged.  Simply another person that didn't understand.

"How's the new store?  Just came up on Seventh and Plum street."  Ava wondered, the change of a subject an opportunity to keep the words flowing, the conversation continues. 

"What's it called? I haven't really left the house in a few days." Cora sketches a trunk, adding roots, branches, and leaves.  

"'Herman & Healing'.  And I don't think I am going to even ask about why you haven't left the house.  You know, it wouldn't hurt to take a walk.  Or even, kill me for mentioning this, going for a run." Ava's sarcasm rises as her disgust increases

Cora laughed again, adjusting herself in the swivel stool perched next to the kitchen counter.  Modern furniture juxtaposes against the house, meant for a more warming touch.  Cora had requested all high tech in her kitchen: new tiles, faucet, marble counters–some elevated–, three swivel stools presented next to the elevated counter and new lighting.  Now, a white light illuminated the room.  A scatter of papers littered the white marble counters, bills, magazines, coupons and fashion sketches.

"Ugh, my neighbor was wondering where I was. You know what the son-of-a-bitch did? He brought over a fruitcake just so he could see the inside of my house. These people notice if I haven't been outside in an hour, you could imagine the attention I've been drawing myself." Cora drew a second tree, another hair falling in front of her face.

"What a dread, for people to care about you,"  Ava said sarcastically.

"They didn't care if I'm dead or alive, they just want the nearest drama.  They are like vultures to a dead animal.  They feed off of gossip."

"Don't complain that I bought you a house, you should be grateful."

"...in the suburbs!  There could be nothing worse.  Okay, there are worse possible locations, but this is one of them."

"Hey, at least you have a house.  If I let you do whatever you want, you would probably be living on the street in New York City because it's the new 'trend'."

Cora sat in silence, her pencil poised above the paper, its tip nearly touching.  She slowly breathed in and out, three... six... ten times.

"Tell me more about the store, what was it called?"  Cora changed the subject.

"'Herman & Healing', it is a grocery shop.  It's got everything."  Ava praised.

"What a change of scenery," Cora exclaimed sarcastically.  Another piece of her hair fell in front of her face.

There was a muffle of voices on the other side of the phone and she assumed that her 'gardener' had finished mowing the lawn.

"Oh, Cora, I have to go now, my gardener is done! I think I'll –Max! I'm on the phone, you naughty boy– sorry. What was I saying? Oh, yes, I will most likely call you tomorrow, Okie?"  Ava almost insisted an agreement.

"Yes, Ava."  Cora hung up, putting the phone face down on the kitchen counter, above the stacks of papers.  Her hand flew through her hair and Cora's green eyes flashed down to her sketch.  A forest of trees met her eye and sat there, familiar and inviting.

Cora lifted her sketch to the white light and inspected each line, each detail.  The only thing the forest lacked was color.

Oh, how can you betray me?  You are only a tree.