Bones of the Wicked

Chapter 3 | Leaves

I adjust the scarf under my thick jacket, keeping my neck from the bitter November breeze. The trees are sweetly whispering with the same wind that blows through my blonde hair. This is probably the worst time to clear our backyard from autumn’s leaf littering but it’s also the only time I get. Tarzan barks for my attention playfully from the patio. He knows I have to finish raking the leaves before he gets to jump into them.

It’s the weekend and I dread the coming hours. I have to buy a dress for the Fall Ball since I don’t own anything that would be suitable in the least bit. There is never any need. I go to school, I come home. I feed the animals and work with my Uncle in his veterinarian office built onto the side of the house. I have a bathing suit for hot summer days and a simple black dress for attending a funeral. If I ever need to look a little dressier for a holiday meal, I have a choice of loose tops to match with my unsullied jeans that have crystal-like studs on the back pockets. But a real dress? I’ve haven’t tried one on in ages.

I exhale through my chapped lips and look up at the sky. It’s still vivid white with little grey clouds here and there. Spending all day in school, it feels better to be out in the open. I sweep away the last bit of leaves and set the rake on the side of my house.

“Alright,” I tell my eager mutt. Before I even finish, he happily darts from his spot on the back porch and bounds into the air, landing on the piles I’ve raked. I’ll probably have to do it again tomorrow but to see the joy in his eyes is worth every second. After ten minutes of romping in the leaves, which are almost as scattered as they were when I began, I call him again. “Come on, Tarzan,” I say with a laugh. “I need a walk as badly as you do.”

Tarzan jogs up beside me as I wander farther from the house. My uncle doesn’t want me in these woods even though he knows I won’t be affected by what’s happening on the news. I take a deep breath and let the chilly air expand my lungs. They would know better than to harm someone like me.

Leaves fall from their branches around me like rain set on slow motion. Some are crumpled and brown while others are too weak against the wind which sighs above me. The motion sounds like a million fairy bells ringing sweet, indistinct melodies. I stare above to witness the silhouette of the tallest branches. The way they move remind me of being underwater and looking up at the sunlight’s reflection. The withering rain of leaves take my breath away. It’s my little stretch of paradise, no matter what season it is.

It’s quiet here, letting little interfere with my overflowing thoughts. Days like these are when I miss my mother most. Only she could talk to me in a way that made everything seem less daunting. Mom would go with me to the mall, giving advice on what color fabric would match my skin or how I should wear my hair. On the day of the dance, I’d sit on the bathroom stool having my makeup done, mom teaching me what she knows even though I’m a hopeless case, as I gush on about the boy who’s taking me and how he asked me to go. I’d say Byron’s eyes make me think of a blooming forsythia bush in spring, golden petals melting off into a green hue, and his insistence of getting me out of my shell makes it worth going to school. His smile makes me feel safe. Byron is the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met and I feel lucky that he even noticed me.

I stop mid step. Tarzan keeps going further into the widespread trees while I furrow my brow and question myself. Did I really just think that? Of course Byron makes me feel happier. He’s my closest friend after all, making sure the weight of my hesitant personality is lessened. Sometimes I feel ashamed, like I’m bringing him down from his in-crowd to the place where only the introverted saps like me hide. I hate that I take him away but he never seems to mind. My boot kicks a stone out of my path. No matter which way I try and derive from the topic, I come back to Byron and the Fall Ball.