Carpe Diem....

Toni

The Garden Path

     She was sitting under the oak tree, reading a book.
She had been coming to this particular tree for several weeks now, finding that
it offeredher a welcome respite from her everyday life.
The tree sat just at the edge of a private garden which was completely
enclosed by a high stone wall.
Here, she was able to put aside all of the problems and worries that plagued her
night and day, momentarily suspending their hold on her thoughts.  She lay
the book down in her lap, closed her eyes,  and slowly let her head fall back
against the strong trunk.  What a beautiful spring day, she thought.  The
breeze blew softly against her face, warm and comforting.  She took a deep,
slow breath and smiled dreamily as she enjoyed the sensation of her bangs
being lifted slightly from her forehead, tickling her skin as they fluttered
in the breeze.

     He had walked this way home before, enjoying the stroll through the
garden, but didn't always take it, since it was a little out of his way.
Today, as a change of pace, he decided to see what was in bloom in the
garden.  As he neared the oak tree at the entrance, he spotted the girl under
the tree, and smiled at her relaxed demeanor.  Walking over to the tree, he
said, "Beautiful weather for a little daydreaming, isn't it?"

     Her eyes fluttered open at the same time that she lifted her head from
the trunk.  Gathering herself together from her momentary disorientation, she
smiled back shyly at the stranger, and said, "Yes, it is."

     Not wanting to end the moment just yet, he looked around, saying, "It's
a nice place to read."  Then, he glanced at her book, and said, "My favorite
part is when he tells her that he loves her, for the very first time, and
makes that speech about how he plans to protect her from being captured."  He
laughed.  "I've read that book so many times, but I always read that page at
least twice whenever I get to it."

     Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth hung open a little as she stared at
him.  "That's my favorite part, too!" she said.  She quickly looked down at
her hands and smiled, a light blush covering her cheeks.  "I...  I always
read it out loud when I get to it.  It makes me a little...well...a little
teary-eyed."  She tossed her hand to the side at this last thought,
dismissing it as if it were a silly reaction to have.

     He grinned and casually sat down next to her, then proceeded to lie
down, turning on his side to face her, propping his head comfortably on his
arm.  "Yep, nice afternoon for reading a book," he said, plucking a blade of
grass from the soft bed in front of him.  Almost as an afterthought, he
suddenly looked at her inquiringly and asked, "You...don't...mind if I sit
here with you, do you?"

     "N-no, of course not," she stammered, trying in vain to sound at ease.
She was not accustomed to small-talk, and didn't quite know what to say next.

     He put the end of the grass blade in his mouth and let his eyes linger
on her for a moment, enjoying the pink that rose to her cheeks again under
his gaze.  After what seemed like an eternity to her, he finally looked away,
to the surrounding area around the tree.  Her eyes nervously followed
wherever he looked as he said, "Do you come here everyday?"

     "Yes, for a while.  I read for about an hour, then I have to get back
home."  She began to visibly relax a little, and he was glad.

     After a few more moments of chatting about the squirrels, butterflies,
and flowers, he said, "May I ask you a question?"

     "Okay," she said, slowly, not at all sure of what he was about to say.
Her expression was serious, and she did not remove her eyes from his.

     "Have you ever walked into the garden?"  He tried not to return as
serious a face as she had, but also tried not to smile.

     "Oh, no!  No, no," she said.  "The stone wall, the...the disappearing
path... no...  I've looked in, but nothing more!  No, I'm happy just to enjoy
the scenery here, around this tree, with my book."

   Now he had to smile, a patient and pleasant smile.  "But, it's really very
beautiful, and perfectly alright.  Lots of things to see and do.  Many hidden
treasures to find.  Very private."  He looked at her.  "The owner is a friend
of mine."  He stood up, brushing the dead grass and leaves from his shirt and
pants.  He put out a hand to her, palm up.  "Come, let me show you the
garden."

     She hesitated, her eyes going from his hand to his face and back again.
"No, it's okay, really.  I don't need to go in.  I can see well enough from
here.  I... I... couldn't..."  Her voice trailed off.

     He reached his hand down further toward her, putting on his most
confident face.  "If you become uncomfortable, I'll bring you back.  I
promise.  Please.  Please?"

     "Well... O-okay," she said slowly as she put her hand in his and allowed
him to pull her up.  She noticed that his hand was smooth and warm to the
touch.  She held her book in her left hand while he continued to hold on to
her right hand.  He walked backward, continuing to pull her gently toward the
entrance to the garden.

     He spoke in a soft, reassuring tone.  "Like I said, if you get
uncomfortable, and want to come back out, just say so, okay?"

     "Yes, I will," she replied.  Now, they were both walking forward, side
by side, hand in hand.  As they passed through the entrance, he could feel a
slight shudder go through her. She had peered often into the garden, but had
never stepped onto the stone path which began just inside the gate.  He
glanced at her, and gave her hand an almost imperceptible tug.

     "Now, let me show you the first spot I always come to when I walk
through the garden."  They rounded the first turn, and she saw before her a
small, babbling brook, the water tripping happily over the smooth stones.  He
watched her carefully as she walked slowly up to the brook.

     "This is beautiful," she breathed.  "Very soothing."

     "Yes," he replied, allowing his mouth to curve slightly into a pleased
smile, at the same time trying to guage the mixed emotions showing on her
face.

     She hesitated, then pulled her hand out of his and hastily turned back
toward the entrance of the garden.  He did not try to stop her.  "Do you want
to go back?"

     "Yes, I believe I should be going," she answered, in a cheerful but firm
voice.  "I'm needed back at home."

     "Okay, if you need to go."  He followed behind her a few paces.

     "Well, it was certainly nice to meet you," she said, mustering up as
much self-confidence in her voice as she could.  "Thank you so much for
showing me that lovely brook."

     "Happy to do it.  Maybe we'll see each other here again sometime."  When
she shoved her hand out formally for him to shake, he obligingly took it.
Something deep inside her did not want to let go.  She looked into his eyes
for only a moment, holding his gaze, her own eyes wide circles again.  Then,
she abruptly let go of his hand and his eyes at the same time and shifted the
book to the recently vacated hand, feeling it needed to hold something.  She
stood stiffly, but her stomach was churning, her face was hot, the rest of
her body ice-cold.  He seems so easy-going, so sure of himself, she thought.
Why am I all churned up inside?

     Gathering her composure, she nodded her thanks again, and turned to
leave.  "Yes, maybe we will," she said, in a voice as nonchalant as she could
make it.  She turned and walked off, watching every step, for fear of falling
flat on her face.  Her eyes were on the ground, but she could feel his eyes
still on her.

     She kept walking until she reached her home, and collapsed on her bed.
She couldn't stay there, however, because she really was needed to attend to
the daily chores that had been assigned to her.  But while she worked, half
of her mind was still on the garden entrance, the brook, and the curving path
that he had begun to lead her down, that path that could lead to other things
even more beautiful than the brook.

     She thought about the young man, his smile, his warm touch, and the
treasures still unseen.  Yes, she decided.  Yes.  She would return tomorrow.
And if he returned, she would speak to him.  And if he offered, she would go
with him.  And she would experience those treasures he promised.  Yes.  She
would do it.

     The next morning seemed a long time coming.  She awoke with a strange
surge of energy, even though she had not slept restfully the night before.
She plowed through her allotted chores, thinking of him the whole time, and
hastily grabbed her book.  She felt as if she floated all the way to the oak
tree, not being able to feel the ground beneath her feet.

     When she arrived at the tree, she sat in her usual spot and opened her
book.  Try as she might to focus, however, the words would not stay put on
the page.  They danced before her eyes, changing places with each other,
creating strange sentences, things that made her giggle like a little girl.
She nervously looked around, embarrassed, to see if anyone had noticed her
fits of laughter.  No one was around.

     No one, she thought.  No one is coming.  I feel like a fool.  Why am I
even here?  I'm wasting my time.

   Her eyes searched everywhere, longingly looking into the street, at the
small shops across the street, up and down the sidewalk, all along the length
of the high stone wall.  As she was looking along the wall in front of her,
she was startled by a voice behind her.  "Well, hello again!"  She turned
quickly, too quickly perhaps, and she knew her face showed relief, joy, and
fear, all at the same time.  She tried, to no avail, to pull her stray
emotions inside of her, and present only a pleasantly surprised smile.

     "I was hoping you would be here again today," he said, smiling.

     "Yes, it's a nice place to read."  Idiot, she thought.  We established
that fact yesterday.  Say something original, witty, charming.

     No words came to her, it seemed, for an eternity.

     Then the words came.  "I think I would like to see the garden...if you
wouldn't mind taking me."

     "Oh, you've had a change of heart?" he asked.  "You're sure?"

     "Yes," she said slowly.  He stared down at her for a moment, pensive.
She could feel his eyes boring into her eyes, her hair, her cheeks.
Everywhere he looked, it was as if he were burning her skin with a flame.

     Finally, he stopped his scrutiny.  He extended his hand and flashed her
a brilliant smile.  "Come with me."

                                                        Courtesy by Marie Redmond, Fl.US
                                                                                                April, 1999