Daisy
Opening the card in my hand I begin to read, and again stop.
Dear Daisy, …
-
I remember it like it was yesterday…
The hot jostle and bustle of bodies, the long line - waiting with so much anticipation. The theme park of all theme parks. The rollercoasters, that big white long one with the red rims, tall, with dips like peaks and valleys of rolling waves. I couldn’t wait to go on it, for it to finally be my turn. All shiny and new.
And then amongst all the crowd of faces, arms and legs came Mickey, with his spiky hair. The boy from class. He’s always so funny, outgoing and ready to play. A squirm of nerves, “Hi Daisy!” Excitement painted all over his face.
Through the line and ready to go…but my parents are calling, I have to leave, it’s time to go.
In my mind is the only place I’ll be taking a ride on that rollercoaster. If I had gotten to sit next to Mickey.. I saw how it would have started.. slow, a little awkward as the train left the loading station, nervous, sweaty palms. And then the gain of speed and all excitement surpassing every thought.
-
Time has passed. I’m older now, 22. My hand in Brian’s. It’s cold and dark and the thick jackets that we’re wearing don’t seem to keep us warm at all. Peeling yellow paint, old popcorn boxes, I realize we’re at the theme park but it’s so changed now I hardly recognized it. Dark, desolate, the joy and anticipation that was once there now leaving an even sadder void.
“What am I doing here?” I think to myself as I quietly follow Brian. I’m somewhere I don’t want to be, again.
“We’re going to meet with friends for dinner.” He says to the question that I didn’t ask.
I need a moment. The discomfort rising I’m grateful to get away to the restroom. It’s gross, there’s paper strewn across the floor and unidentifiable smudges across the walls.
My friend stands in the door of the restroom with me, we’re both too repulsed to go in. We watch as a cat meanders in between two of the stalls. “I’m not going in.” Stella says unflinchingly.
I look at her, so tall and stoic, unphased. Sporty, funny, she’s an athlete. I’m grateful she’s here. I feel safer.. we’ll fit in. I can hide behind her, cool and aloof.
“Are you going to sleep with my boyfriend again?” I ask her. Still not over what has happened yet somehow resigned to it. She moves with me as we leave the restroom and rejoin Brian. A cold wind rushes through us as we climb the stairs towards the restaurant, everyone is waiting for us there. I’m so grateful that Stella is with me. “Daisy sit with me,” she takes my hand and we make our way to the middle of the table, the spot kept open for us. All of Brian’s friends, family, even his mother is there. She’s looking at me..
Oh this room is so dark! Tumbles out of my mouth.
I’ve already broken up with Brian, I shouldn’t be here. I need to go. I rise and go in haste, leaving Stella there. And leaving Brian.
-
Time has passed again. It’s decades maybe centuries earlier now and I’m fully grown. A beautiful woman with golden white blonde hair still untouched, never darkened. And marble white skin, unblemished by the sun.
A war is starting. Such change is in the air. The mix of being somewhere familiar yet new, almost unrecognizable from each passing moment.
I followed my friends quietly to a party they wanted badly to attend. There was drinking and dancing and boys who stood with shoulders slouched forward and their heads bent slightly to one side. I didn’t engage, and stood slightly outside the little circle that had formed amongst them. The boy next to me suddenly turned and said I shouldn’t be here. “This place is dangerous.” And in that moment the door burst open. Men flooded in. We were taken away.
A prisoner now in a crowd of black jackets contrasted against a sky of gray, cold snow and castle walls. I followed along in line to who knows where.
His crystal, ice blue eyes caught mine and held them for a moment in a long embrace. He was powerful, a kind of magnetic pull. I was not affected by it. He came to me. He spoke to me, I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I know what he meant. He was in charge somehow. He was interested in me, attracted. I was his prisoner, not afraid, not feeling anything at all.
He left, continued on but one of his men came and removed me from the crowded line. Eyes like a crow, this man said he was looking for his bride, that even if he took a mistress he would never allow a baby. It would be an honor to be his wife. To me he seemed cold and cruel, dangerous, but I would be safe with him perhaps even warm.
I went along.
The next day he took me to the races and we sat together in the stands, his hand wrapped around mine. He was in such high spirits. A sport he clearly enjoyed. The horses running, beating hooves upon the ground, the smell of earth and dust, of sweat and breath. The pitch and fever of winning and the depths and loss of defeat in every moment. I quietly observed, I wasn’t cold.
A women with dark, short curly hair approached from the crowd below. She slouched deeply to one side carrying a baby and had sharp intelligent eyes. She spoke directly to him, engaged with him. They laughed in an easy exchange. Continuing on, it was clear they understood each other, connected on such a level I could never meet him. I could not exchange such words in a language I couldn’t speak, and I didn’t share her sharp witted intelligence. It made sense for him to choose her.
The woman held her baby in a basket that was nearly touching the floor, it was grabbing for her at the knee but she didn’t even notice. Such an athletic and lean woman, a little mean, sharp witted, intelligent. I guess that’s how it should be.
In a room now with the three of us, they seem so close. He will choose her, he has chosen her, she seems to know this too by the way she moves. He moves from my side to meet her behind the couch near the door and she smugly finishes packing her things in a bag. She is so angry, it’s all around her.
As I watch silently, I am grabbed and pulled beneath the strength and hungry passion of a burly man. His second in command, taking me now without the security and assurance of His affection. In the fight and flurry of my sudden circumstance, I see him offer the woman something to eat, which she takes into her mouth directly from his hand, looking straight at him, with such assurance of her victory.
And then she knew.
“How could you!” She screamed.
The baby! I thought.
It was poison. Cyanide.
And she was dead.
Released from my compromised position and the swelling fear and shame. He chose me. I was surprised, all that intellectual connection, familiarity between the two of them. I couldn’t even speak the same language. I am soft, curves and curls and quiet. But somehow I know, I understand. And I understand what he’s saying to me now. I go along with it. He takes my hand and I follow him, we’ll be married, have children… holding my hand looking down past our feet, our toes, the world, “it is ours” he says.
I go along with him now up a set of stairs and through a red curtain to a stage. So high it seems to be set in the clouds. He is the leader, in charge. He walks up the isle towards a podium and I am behind him. There are rows of people waiting, and wings of his next in command flocking either side of us. I look up and behold him, feeling swept along, a mix of anticipation and fear. A powerful man, capable of great and terrible things. I tremble slightly knowing that I will help him.
He killed her…
I am safe..
My position is set.
A rainbow through the clouds encompasses us all.
And time moves forward once again.
-
What have I done.
I must begin again.
Refocusing on the letter in my hand I continue..
Dear Daisy,
-
Dear Daisy,
I must start again, it’s been so long since we’ve talked and I want to congratulate you on your wedding. You deserve all of the health and happiness, love and joy that this world has to offer. Wishing you all of this and more or better.
With love,
Your Friend
