There Is No Grey

Chapter Three

dElIcAtE

"Wake up."

Lifting off the peak of my cheekbones, the thick eyelashes given to me from my mother granted sight to the great sun set high in the sky. Mellow breezes brought fragrances swirling, colliding with each other washing over my skin. Like when the sun is eclipsed by the moon, a shadow of great length blocked my sun. It looked like Jesus, bordered with light in stained glass windows of church. Those were his eyes, those were my eyes; those were Daddy's eyes. That shadow, that lengthy, Jesus replicating shadow was my Daddy.

My Daddy.

He lifted me in the same manner he always did, the increase in my weight since he last did this never earned a grunt of struggle. No mirror could prove the reversal of time in which I felt, I was young again, my mind and my soul.

He tossed me like pepperoni pizza, his eyes creased and twinkled as the corners of his lips spread upward towards his favorite sound; a laugh escaping. I didn't doubt he would catch me, he never failed to. His arms were home, his arms were unconditional love, his arms were the protector I needed so desperately during routine searches or when I heard things whispering at night. He was home.

He turned, his back facing me, the muscles in his back in-sync with the moments of his hands to find his and cover them. Hide-n-seek. Pure in instinct, I follow in turning but rather run off through the thickets than stay.

1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10...

The flowers brush along the fabric of my dress, tickling my bare legs with their leaves and delicate petals. I sprint through the field arms open wide like the wings of the bird that follows me in the sky; this field is mine as the sky is his. I turn around every so often, to check for a follower, strands of hair stuck on the wetness of my lips.

I got a lot of things from my Daddy, however, patience was never one of them. I laid on my back taking on the position of one those red monkeys from the barrel of monkeys I used to have on my shelf. Corralled into the round spaces my arms created grew flowers that reminded me of things I knew so well; the same pastel blue of a robin's egg, a yellow that matched baby chick fluff, acai purple and a delicate pink identical to the blanket that holds a baby girl.

It was with the yellow-centered white flowers intermixed in the flowers that I found myself occupied with. Nimble with my fingers, daisies laid laced at their stems.

I paused.

"Come find me."

15 daisies turn into 30 daisies and 30 daisies turn into 50 daisies.

I weave daisies and youthful innocence into my mane, careful not damage them. In and out, in and out, over, under, over, under.

Rising, floral bits and pieces and grass blades slid down the dress front, just as morning dew did the leaves. My bum was wet.

Lightly I tread, fearful he wanted me to outs my whereabouts like a lion wishes of its prey. Yet, when no surprise attack lifted my toes from the earth I knew it otherwise. My feet pounded the ground, the hem snatched in my hands.

"Daddy?" Birds flew from the trees, my voice echoed and embraced me, was it in a way meant to comfort me in myself? For, it was nothing like Daddy. "Just return to the spot, he'll be there, he promised." I told myself.

"I found you," I whispered. He was there sleeping in the same place I left him. Parting the greenery to the side to be with him, I wished innocence could be something you could reclaim. Dead.

My Daddy was dead.

No external wounds scarred his dulled skin. My daddy laid lifeless colorless surrounded by the richest of colors. He'd never hold me again, never catch me again, never smile at me again, never..nev-never.. NEVER. Would he even love me like he does? Or did?

My sobs made the sky weep.