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Kalopsia
Author's note:
Lilly Marie is a sixteen year old creative mind from St. Louis, MO. She aspires to be a singer-songwriter, and works to create art that conveys real, believable stories to help herself and others heal through empathy.
Every year in the springtime the residents of Sugar Valley gather to enjoy the neighborhood carnival, it’s been a tradition for as long as anyone could remember. Parents would bring their children, and those children would grow up and bring their children, and again. Every family set a special place. The Gingham family rode the carousel. The Flowers played ‘Test Your Strength’ every year-- they were all very sure of themselves. And the Berrys always rode the ferris wheel.
That day was as any day the carnival came around. Warm and cloudless, the blinding light of the sun pouring into every corner. That day was the perfect day for the only child of the Berry couple to come, after many uneventful years, and revisit his childhood.
As Christopher Berry approached the large ferris wheel, it looked just as inviting as he remembered. The mayor had the entire set renewed every five years; this involved new paint, new lights, and improved gears. Christopher didn’t understand how he could have been so frightened by the wheel as a child, it was so calming, so lovely. He greeted the taker pleasantly and handed him sixty cents in exchange for a ticket for two trips around. The cars were bright and colorful, and as Christopher stepped in, he realized each one was taken by a neighbor or friend. Across the way he could just barely see an old friend from preschool, Carrie Love. At the very bottom, settling in, was a co-worker of Christopher’s; Johnny Gingham. But across the way was a woman Christian couldn’t recognize. This was odd, as he had lived in Sugar Valley his whole life. Perhaps she’s new, he thought. She had long, fiery hair that fell outside of the car, and she wore a homely, cream colored dress. There was something about her, though, and like most in these situations, that Christopher couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
As the wheel started up, Christopher sat back into his individual car and closed his eyes, listening to the tapping of the gears. He remembered running around to each game when he was young, losing his mother, but still hearing the same tapping a mile away. His father would call for him, but Christopher would only find his parents by the wheel; they would stay there because it was always the first place he looked. Sometimes, Christopher lost himself, pretending to run a candy stand or control a ride. He would even stand next to the taker by the wheel and imitate him. Even when his parents were close, he couldn’t hear them. He became so lost in his own dream that only a tug on the ear from his father would bring him back.
When Christopher opened his eyes again, he realized he was at the top of the wheel, gently swinging back and forth to the rhythm of the gears. He found himself searching for the new woman again, looking above to the pink car she had been sat in, but found it was now taken by a young couple and a small child. He glanced around the ground in search for that bright head of hair, but there were too many to distinguish the woman from. Christopher knew he just had to find her again. He had to speak to her. But he had to wait for this cycle to end.
He grew nervous as he thought of the woman getting farther and farther from him with each tick of the wheel. What if he never found her? And even if he did, would she even like him? Or would he come off as a creep? He looked down again, and found he was almost to the bottom. As he was slowly lowered to the ground in his car, he spotted a tall figure with fire waving down her back in the back of a long line for the rock candy stand. It must have been her.
Christopher was set on speaking to her. While stepping out of his car onto the platform, he thought he could try to follow her and introduce himself. This could be a bad first impression, he thought, but it can’t hurt to try. He hopped off of the platform and scanned the groups of people at each stand and ride. This was one of many times when he couldn’t use his height to his advantage; everyone seemed taller from the ground. He politely moved through the crowd when suddenly an idea struck his mind. The Florist’s stand sold custom six-piece bouquets for a dollar and fifty cents. Christopher would put together a bouquet for the woman and bring out as much charm as he could find in himself.
He kept a close eye on the woman while making his way towards the Florist’s stand. As he looked at the display of available flowers and colors, he chose to add in two yellow roses, three purple asters, and one stem of baby’s breath. He chose to tie them with a pale pink ribbon, handed the owner his money, and went off to find the woman. He remembered seeing her in line for candy. Maybe she’s still there, he thought. Christopher carried the bouquet behind his back as he stepped through, and around, screaming children and giggling teenagers to the line of candy stands. He looked over the picnic tables and the queues; and in line for rock candy stood the tall, colorful lady he’d been looking for. He decided to casually step in line behind her and wait for the right moment to jump in. She was next in line, and stepped up to pick her candy. She was carrying different packages from other stands; there were about four, all brightly colored and frilled. Christopher realized other people side-eyeing her, as if she were a different species. Was she that new? Maybe this is a good time, Christopher wondered. As good a time as any.
“Excuse me, Miss, would you like a hand?” Christopher asked, stepping beside her.
“Oh, why thank you.” The woman said hesitantly, handing Christopher a few boxes, “It seems I’ve bought out the whole carnival.”
“No problem at all.” Christopher said, holding her things with one hand, trying to keep the bouquet discreetly behind him with the other. In front of them, a man pointed to what he wanted with no words, paid, and rushed away. The vendor called for the next person, and the woman stepped ahead and began to order.
“Two vanilla rock candies, please.” She requested, without even gazing over the small, handwritten menu.
“That’ll be thirty cents, miss.” The owner said back to her. She smiled at him and looked to Christopher.
“Y’know, at fairs like these I like to buy as much food as I can and take it home for later.” She laughed nervously. A small blush appeared on her hollowed cheeks. Christopher thought they almost looked sickly, but somehow complimented her.
“I haven’t been here in so long, I’d almost forgotten they had food this good!” Christopher exclaimed. The woman laughed some more, almost forcefully, and paid the owner with money and a thank you once she received her candy, turning to Christopher again as they stepped out of the queue.
“Uhm...could you help me carry all this to a table?”
The two paired at a table and sat, Christopher setting out the boxes he was handed.
“Y’know, people really treat these stands like automats- they just pay and leave without even speaking to the nice vendors. Everything may be cheap, but these are human people, y’know. ” The woman said. Christopher was starting to realize how often she said the words y’know.
“Better be cheap,” Said Christopher, “Some people have families to feed.” The woman sat down with him at a table away from the crowd.
“Oh, you have children?” She asked, fiddling with her arms and looking down.
“Not yet, just making a point. You?”
“Heavens no, too much for me.”
“Well, your husband must be happy about that.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m not married.” Christopher took that in for a moment. Through his mission to find her, he had never even considered that she may have been married, so this was a great relief.
“I will say, I was sure you would’ve been.” Christopher admitted to her.
“Really? I guess I’ve just yet to, uh, find the right person.” The woman explained.
“Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind, then, if I gave you these.” Christopher announced, pulling the bouquet from behind his back. This put such a gleam in the woman’s big blue eyes; a gleam that Christopher had never quite seen before. It was more beautiful than all the stars. She gasped, gently taking the flowers.
“My goodness...thank you so much. They’re just darling,” She exclaimed, examining the bouquet. “And in my favorite colors, too.”
Well, what a coincidence, Christopher thought.
“Of course, ma’am,” He remarked. “By the way, my name is Christopher Berry, may I ask yours?”
“Magdeleine. Please just call me Maggie.” So that’s it, Christopher thought, watching the woman, who he now knew as Maggie, admire the flowers. Well fitting, too.
“Well,” Maggie began, “Would you, uh, like to sit down?”
“Yes, thank you!.” Christopher agreed, taking a seat across from her at the picnic table.
“And help yourself to anything here,” Maggie added, shoving her arms into her lap, “I’ve apparently got enough to feed the whole town.”
The pair stuck together for hours, into the sunset when the children gathered in a large, colorful tent to be told stories to help them calm down, in favor of their parents. Christopher willingly used up the rest of his money on Magdeleine, even when she told him not to. They rode almost every ride they could, and played each game until they were masters. Christopher, in this moment, didn’t pay any attention to himself. The only thing he was worried about was Maggie’s happiness, and did everything he could to keep her smiling. But, to their dismay, the night came too soon. The lights on each ride shut down one by one, and the workers in each booth stepped out to escort the remaining people outside the entrance gate.
“What a day.” Maggie whispered, turning around to get one more look at the silhouetted fair. She sighed, and looked back at Christopher. He was dazed, perhaps, and smiling. In one day, they had gotten so close, yet she never took the time to really look at him. He was shorter than her, but she was around the average height of a man herself. He had a boyish face, with wide brown eyes, a button nose, and freckles scattered over his cheeks. Maggie thought his hair looked like a rabbit; a soft, tame, brown rabbit. He had a small frame, appeared to be in his mid-20’s, and was the sweetest, most polite man Maggie had ever met.
“Thank you again, Christopher,” Maggie began, “I had a lovely time.” Christopher grinned and took her hand gently, trying not to scare her off.
“Well, do you think you would like to do it again sometime?” He asked after a second, looking up into her eyes. She took his hand with her shaky ones, and Christopher realized the tiny red and purple marks on her inner arm. He tried not to stare. Why would that set him off? It’s just her skin, man. Calm down. Maggie looked back into him for a split second, then away again.
“Maybe,” She whispered, looking down. “No, of course we can.” She smiled a bit and looked at him steadily for the first time that day.
“Of course we can.”
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