Kiwi |H.S.|

twenty three

    Signs of the past kept reappearing.

I tapped one of Ms. Ellison's fancy black pens against the desk as I gazed out of the skylights inside of the library I'd become all too familiar with. Not a single soul was inside of the library besides the Ms. Ellison - who was filing paperwork in the corner, and me. It was an eerily peaceful day.

All I could focus on was the rain. This was the first time it had rained since I arrived in Malibu back in August, and it was a strange sight. The sky was dreary and full of clouds, the sun hidden away as the day slowly passed on. The gloomy weather I was once accustomed to back in Seattle now seemed to weigh down on me, tampering with my mood.

I closed my eyes as I listened to the rain patter, coating the warm asphalt. It was funny - I noticed hardly anyone was out driving on the roads. I figured it was because people weren't accustomed to driving out in the pouring rain.

Ms. Ellison placed a heavy book down onto the desk, catching my attention.

I sat up abruptly, staring up at the older woman like a deer caught in the headlights. She didn't look like she was going to scold me though, she just looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes had grown more prominent, and her face no longer held the glow it once did. I could tell working here constantly was becoming too much for her.

"How are you Harley?" She asked, surprising me. Her fingernails tapped against the book that was propped on the table.

I blinked, "I've been good," I cleared my throat, playing with the zipper on my rain jacket that had the logo of my old high school on it, "Getting a little homesick, but it happens from time to time."

She smiled wistfully, "Oh how I know it," she shook her head, "I always miss my old home." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, "Where are you from?"

I could tell she enjoyed talking about it, "I'm from Minnesota, born and raised. I moved here twenty years ago when I married my husband and he found work in the suburbs just outside of Malibu." She explained to me, mentioning her husband she had never spoken about before. I wondered if he was still alive but I was too afraid to ask.

"You must really love him," I voiced as I crossed my legs in my spinning chair, "That's a really far move."

Her smile was shaky, but I knew she wasn't sad, she was just exhausted, "I did love him, but I didn't move here solely because of him. I had always wanted to visit California, it just gets so dreary in Minnesota sometimes. It brings down your spirits."

That answered my question - he was dead.

"That makes sense," I murmured as I glanced out the window and stared out at the vacant street. I too always wanted to live in California. Everything on television made it seem so... perfect. But now that I was here I wasn't so sure, "Sometimes I think California isn't as great as I once thought, and I've only been here for a few months so I can't even imagine how you must feel."

    She laughed lightly, "Yes dear, sometimes the weather can have the opposite effect on you."

    I looked up at her and tapped my pen, my chest feeling heavy, "I like it here enough I suppose." I replied dully.

    Ms. Ellison was entertained by my less than chipper attitude, "You'll like it more once you grow closer to the people," she reminded as she sat in the chair across from me, "I loved living here for a very long time because I was with my husband. We could've moved anywhere in the world and I would have been the happiest woman alive, because regardless of where we were, he was my home. You're too young to understand that now but one day you will."