Her

by Jasmine Carder

I felt like I had always known her.

The first time we met was at the bus stop a couple weeks into second grade. Although I only lived a few blocks from school I was still too young to be allowed to walk. The sky was overcast and rain came down like the mist sprayed on supermarket vegetables to keep them fresh. I was studying the fir trees lining the opposite side of the street. The trunks were wider than me and who knows how many times taller. Their scaly bark was quilted in curving patterns that danced through the floating water. But, it was their needles I loved. Thin, shiny, sharp, identical to sewing needles in every way but one: they were a deep, velvety green. I spent several minutes mindlessly staring into them before eventually losing my focus. I looked over to my side in search of the bus and instead, I saw her. It startled me. I hadn't noticed her approach. She didn't seem to notice me either. She was focused on her legs as they dangled a couple inches from the ground. I looked away but couldn't help myself from taking several peaks back.

She must have felt my gaze because she looked up from her shoes and gave me a tentative smile. I smiled too. She didn't say anything and I kept watching her from the corner of my eye as we waited. Does she live around here? I thought. No, I haven't seen her before. Where did she come from?

She interrupted my thoughts with an outstretched hand, Wanna be friends? She asked. Her frankness startled me. I looked at her fully. She had little braids in her dark hair and an eerily calm yet warm face.

Um.. yeah.

Then we were friends.

I soon learned a lot about her. She had this big yet reserved personality. We would be sitting in class together and no one would see anything particularly special. The most people could say about her at first glance was that she looked a little shy. But that wasn't it, I knew she wasn't shy. She was just saving up her words. Her face would be perfectly still and then a switch would flip and she got going.

Why are you reading that? This book is sooo unrealistic. The fifth is much better.

I frowned, Why? Even an eight-year-old knows on some level that there is nothing particularly realistic about any of the Rainbow Magic fairy books.

Well, you see in this book the friends get abducted by elves and Ruby does this thing where she tries to save everyone but she really should have waited for them to send her their signal. And Indigo wasn't in this one very much, even though she's the smart one. And Amber, don't even get me started on Amber. Who would lose their wand in a bush?.... She went on and on. Overtaken by an outburst of passion. Her face lit up and her eyes sparkled as she looked at me, right at me. I was mesmerized.

When I realized she had finished I fumbled for a response. Ahh…I don’t know. They tried their best.

She got this teasing look on her face that said, oh, how lost you are. Sure, but really, they were so dumb in this one. Don't you think?.

Yeah, I guess you're right I hadn't even gotten to the second chapter but something about her made me want to agree.

She went off on long tangents like that semi-frequently. About fairies, people at school, the rules of games we had invented together, anything really. She acted as if she knew everything and I believed her. Her coming alive with words was one of the first times I truly thought of someone as beautiful. Despite this, sometimes, it bothered me.

There was this one time, when it was still warm outside, that I went into the yard to ask if she wanted to play. I didn’t know it then but I would remember that day for a long time. I saw her and this pettitte girl with these darling pigtails crouched in the blooming periwinkle vines that covered the area under the porch. They looked so angelic, so perfect. I couldn't help but stay quite a minute. I didn't belong in such a lovely scene. Eventually, I approached and the small girl smiled. My friend didn't look up, We’re busy.

I wanted to sit in the periwinkles too. I didn't know what to say so I just stood there and looked at them.

Leave us alone, she said. Her face was made of stone.

Usually, when I sensed she was off I retreated but for some reason, I couldn't pull myself away, No, let me stay.

No.

Please? I was whinny.

Why are you butting in? I’m busy. It’s my house so just leave.

But-

Then she changed. Her mouth grew thin and her arms rigid. Although she didn't move she started to take on the look of a doll that's been grotesquely twisted out of shape. I froze. Then I saw her eyes. There was a look in them I had never seen before like I was something stuck to the sole of her shoe. It's my house!

In the moments after it was like the oxygen left the air around her. I could feel myself suffocating. At first, I didn't know what to do. I started walking without any conscious decision to do so. By the time I got to the backdoor of my house, I was in tears. They leaked out of my eyes in great big droplets. I didn't know where the water had come from; I felt so empty. Of course, my dad was worried so he sent me back to, make amends. I pleaded with him to let me stay inside, just wanting to forget what had happened. He wouldn't let me and said I had to sort out my problems. I was ashamed at how much I resisted.

When I returned the little girl looked at me worriedly but my friend was back to normal. She was a little stiff but I thought everything was fine as she made a spot for me next to her. However, when I got to school the next day she was strangely elusive. The day after that too. A week passed. I couldn't stand it. I was a whipped dog.

Luckily it wasn't like her to keep anyone away for too long. For a while, after she was really nice to me. I'd find small flowers sitting on my desk after recess. She'd make a point of sitting next to me at lunch and bringing me into conversations I would never have had the guts to join. She even helped me start a club, something I had always wanted to do but couldn't on my own. But, even with all these niceties, even with her infectious joy and genuine care, there were moments when I could see something simmering just below the surface. A glimmer of that day in the flowers.

Despite our close relationship, her magical entrance into my life went largely unexplained. There was never talk about life outside of the bounds of our neighborhood. We only existed together.

The entire year passed in a similar fashion. Mostly she was my best friend. We were two halves of a whole. Then, sometimes, she wasn't. I grew to love and fear her. She made the world vast and us its natural conquerors. I always knew she had that over me. She knew better, was better, made me better. I was just lucky to bask in her sun. I needed to. No matter how obnoxiously blinding she could be, it was better than the dullness of my life without her.

Eventually, second grade came to a close and the real sun came. As I grew more carefree I saw her less frequently. On the last day of school, she was listless and more withdrawn than usual. I tried to wake her up a bit but none of my oreos or silly little jokes did any good. After school, we walked home together and when we parted ways she looked at me and really smiled for the first time in days. That was the last I saw of her for a long time.

Like the mist she came from, she vanished. At first, much to my surprise, all I felt was relief. I woke up the next morning and the world lost some of its gravity. I knew she was gone. But, as the days passed I started to crave her. I had this image that without her I would float off into the summer sun and burn to nothing.

I decided to look for her. If she wasn't going to come to me, then I would find her. I walked aimlessly around the neighborhood and saw no trace. I bumped into friends from school and it was as if she had never existed. Eventually, I turned to the real authority.

You remember her right? I asked.

My dad frowned, Who?

You know, her. She used to be here all the time and then she disappeared.

His brow furrowed as we sat in an endless silence. I fiddled impatiently. Oh yeah. But… Do you want her back?

I think so. I mean, of course I do.

What kinda answer is that? I thought. I had no choice but to heed his words. I waited all summer for what I thought would be her grand return. After a while, I started to miss her less. Days and weeks went by and nothing changed so I left the house and played in the forest and read my fairy books.

One night months later, after the trees had shrugged off the last of autumn, I stood at my bathroom mirror gargling mouthwash. At that moment I was hit by an inkling. She was close. I looked out the window and down the hall on the off chance that she would be standing there, hands in pockets like the first time we met. When I found no sign, I brushed the feeling off. A simple fantasy. I went back to the bathroom and spit my mouthwash into the sink. The last of the pink bubbles went down the drain and I looked up. There she was reflected back at me. Did you miss me?

© Jasmine Carder 2023