Yellow Lace

Revised

  Regardless of the past couple days, happiness bubbled in the deepest part of my heart as I listened to the ocean rock and as I watched the trees sway and dance. The grass was lush and brilliant green. The sky was a deep, relaxing blue, and the white noise from the harbor floated elegantly around my head, refusing to settle. The skyline was breathtakingly beautiful and my hands began to shake with excitement as I saw the docks and the boats bobbing up and down with the small waves that crashed at the base of the huge hill that I was standing on. I was completely enthralled with nature and never more glad to be alive.
  My younger sister broke the peaceful silence by grabbing my hand and beginning the first conversation since our arrival moments ago. “Have you ever seen such a place?” Carolina breathed, squeezing my hand lightly. “Oh, I cannot believe the house father built is finally finished!”
  I drew my gaze reluctantly from the prettiest picture I had ever laid my eyes upon and looked down at her freckled face with a smile. “I know. It is quite exciting.” My voice trailed off towards the end of my statement as I gazed lovingly back to the scenery.
  “Do you think I need to fix my hair before father sees me?” she asked, removing her hand from mine and touching her curly blonde locks. It was tied in a ponytail at the base of her neck as small amounts of fringe framed her childish face pleasantly. She was always concerned about her appearance, which was a great attribute, according to our parents. I sighed and kneeled down in front of her, fixing her several bobby pins and patting down a few stray hairs. She was such a beautiful little girl, something that she was very well aware of. Her light pink lips and baby blues eyes easily charmed crowds.
  “You look lovely,” I said, giving her creamy cheek a kiss and standing once again, letting my eyes travel to the skyline. The clouds were small wisps of grace and their color was only the best of lace. I could feel Carolina playing around my feet and I knew she was getting anxious to finally see father so she could impress him after his long absence. I quietly reminded her that he was not to be expected for several more minutes, and she contorted her face into a pout. She went and sat under a small, nearby oak tree. The shade rested over her shoulders and I wished there was a way to capture a moment forever.
  “Do you think mother will be arriving at the same time as father?” Carolina inquired, looking over at me, squinting her eyes. My hands turned into fists at my side and I bit my lip anxiously. I let a couple of moments pass, and decided to let the question go unanswered.
  “Don’t dirty your dress,” I said, walking over to her, wishing I could take my shoes off and feel the soft grass between my toes. Any distraction from reality had become a constant wish of mine. I took a fleeting look at the harbor and hoped more passionately that I could dangle my toes off the edge of a floating dock and just feel the cold water tickle my skin. “We have no way of getting you clean if you make a mess of yourself.”
  Carolina blushed and put down the small rock she was holding. When she blushed, the tip of her button nose turned the prettiest shade of pink and I looked away in jealousy, touching my own nose lightly, wishing some color would reach my face when I experienced moments of embarrassment. My neck would turn a blotchy red and my face would become chalk white. My hand drifted to the back of my neck and I began to twist my hair between my fingers. I knew it was pointless to ponder over my sister as I did, but it was in my nature to compare myself to others, especially my only sibling.
  My happiness had dimmed to a quiet roar and I inhaled deeply, trying to regain my composure as I gazed longingly at the men I could see working away on their ships. I imagined myself holding hands with such a man, and I was instantly ashamed.
  A sudden gust of wind breezed through the yard and I felt my dress swirl around in the air. Carolina giggled and said, “I cannot believe that we’ll be living here. I hope that mother finds it as beautiful as I do.”
  I fiddled with my dress and brushed the fringe away from my eyes, giving my sister a small nod. I put my hands on my hips and took a step closer to the of our new home. Carolina was just as enthralled with the harbor as I was moments ago.
  “There should be more places in the world that look like this,” she gushed, standing up and walking down the hill towards the small patch of sand near the edge of a bordering forest. She had a certain step to her walk that I had a growing envy for. I wished that I could radiate happiness as she could. Even when I was at my height of enjoyment, I never seemed to show it as exquisitely as her.
  I lazily followed her lead, paying more attention to the ocean and the men at work than Carolina. I could hear her advance towards the twigs and leaves that were scattered around the large maple and oak trees. All of my concerns were lessened by the serenity of the harbor and surrounding foliage.
  Glancing to my right, I caught a glimpse of Carolina’s dress fluttering behind a tree just before it disappeared. Emitting a small sigh, I trudged over to where she was kneeling on the ground, surveying something hidden behind a large, mossy tree. Before I could utter a single word of curiosity, she had already picked up the newly found object and stood up with it proudly in her arms.
  “Oh, isn’t this jewelry box absolutely beautiful?” Carolina asked, trying to brush the several layers of thick, wet mud from the surface. She had a lovely, childish smile tattooed to her face and I could not help but soften at the sight.
  “What’s that?” I inquired, moving closer to her and taking the heavy, wooden box from her hands. When I took a closer look at the intricate patterns traced into the side of the box, my heart skipped a beat and I began to feel lightheaded. I gasped and dropped the box to the ground with a thud.
  Carolina reacted by giving me a quizzical look and picking the box back up. “What was that for?”
  “It was . . . nothing. Now, put that jewelry box back where you found it and follow me. We should wash off our hands.” We went to the harbor, where I swirled the delicate sand between my fingers and took a deep breath of the crisp ocean air. My heart raced at the thought of Carolina opening the box, but I tried my hardest to stifle my emotions.
  Just then, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage clomped up the long driveway. “Father!” Carolina whispered, putting her fingers over her surprised lips. She gave me a fleeting look and proceeded to run up the hill to stand next to the front door of the house where our luggage rested. I followed her, trying to not trip in my haste. I could feel my neck becoming hot and a small headache forming in the center of my forehead.
  By the time we had reached the top of the hill, the carriage was in clear view. The passenger was concealed by maroon drapes, which only heightened our anticipation. When it stopped promptly in front of the house, merely feet away from us, I felt Carolina grip my skirt tightly in fear of the man who would emerge in moments.
  The door opened and a well-polished, black shoe was the first thing to come into view. The hands of the man could be seen gripping the door; they were spidery and taut. A small black bowler hat poked out next, and the sound of shoes crunching on gravel could be heard when he stepped down. The second I saw his face I recognized the big, crooked nose, the small brown eyes, and the bearded chin. His glasses were sitting contently on the bridge of his nose, and his ears poked out awkwardly from under his hat and curly, brown hair. When a second body began to climb out of the drapes, my heart stopped. I could tell it was a woman by the plum colored high heels and black cotton skirt.
  When the woman was in full view, my stomach was on the ground. Father did not mention that he would have a woman in his company. When he saw my expression, however, a large, toothy grin appeared on his face and he shook his head and laughed.   “Carolina, Melody!” he boomed, embracing the both of us. His grip was unbreakable, and all of my concerns vanished for a moment as I took in his sweet scent and his warm arms. I could hear his laugh in my ear and it was exactly what I needed. “How long have the two of you been here?”
  “Long enough to get a feel for the yard,” I said, smiling.
  “I’m so sorry that I didn’t have a key sent to you previously. I assumed I would beat the two of you here!” he responded. He proceeded to unlock the front door and wave his hands impressively before the entrance hall of our new home. His loud voice echoed off the wallpapered walls and the wooden floors as he gave us a small tour of the first floor. I hung onto every one of his syllables and every one of his pronunciations religiously; the feel of his presence was overpowering. The same happiness that I felt when I first arrived was flooding back into my heart forcefully.
  When we came to the dining room, father looked down at his watch and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to admit, but I must excuse myself for another short amount of time. I have a previous engagement with a long lost friend of mine.”
  “Will you be back soon?” Carolina asked, walking up to him and putting her hand in his.
  He smiled sadly down at her and answered, “It is likely. However, I have hired Maria to take care of you two for when situations like this arise.” His words were melting into the woodwork and the walls as I looked out the window in disappointment. He continued to inform us about our new maid, who had walked into the room on cue, but I was feeling sick to my stomach. Today was filled with so many emotions that I was beginning to feel faint.
  His exiting embrace came much too soon after his welcoming embrace. I noticed that the carriage that brought him here was still sitting calmly in the driveway, patiently waiting for him to return to the velvet curtain. Maria began her duties as soon as the front door closed with a gloomy click; she began cooking a dinner of chicken and rice while giving us directions to our new bedroom.
  The walls were papered in gray and white flowers and the windows had beautiful white lace curtains that fell to the floor. The room was simply exquisite, but my heart was far away. I sat on my bed, which was covered in the most elegantly crafted quilt I had ever seen, and stared at the small bookshelf in the corner that was filled to the brim with books waiting to be read. I did not know what I was expecting of father, but he had succeeded in upsetting me once again.
  I could hear Carolina in the room next to me, bustling around and settling down. I knew she would be eager to discuss every aspect of father’s personality with me after dinner, and I was dreading the conversation. I went over to the window and threw it open, allowing the scent of the ocean to calm my nerves. During a moment of silence, an image of the box Carolina had found near the forest flashed across my mind. I tried to get a good view of the section of the forest where the box was resting, but it was impossible. I could feel my breathing getting heavy and my hands getting clammy. I shivered and stepped away from the window ledge and sat down on my perfectly made bed. Deciding now was the best time to dispose of the box, I left my room as quietly as possible. There were no sounds coming from any direction as far as I could tell. I could hear my own heart beat as I carefully descended the staircase and headed for the front door. I was constantly peaking over my shoulder, though I was not positive why I was afraid of getting caught sneaking out into the yard. I felt like I was committing a sin by having such a dark mission, but I pushed that thought to the back of my head.
  When I was just Carolina’s age, my mother had kept the jewelry box on her dresser where she claimed all of her most precious items resided. She would have me brush her hair as she held Carolina in her arms and tell me stories of when she was my age, occasionally mentioning the box and its contents. I would survey the box with such desire and temptation that I would feel guilty for weeks following my pursuit to solve the mystery of my mother’s adored box.
  If I was correct in my assumption, the box that Carolina found was my mother’s. The box would hold the answers to my childhood wonders and I would feel a sense of understanding. My hands continued to remain sweaty as I delicately opened the front door and stepped out into the lush lawn. Once I knew no one could see me, I dashed down the hill and slowed down once I reached the wood, feeling the familiar swish of air settling around my hair.
  I rushed into the woods and felt little strips of lace tear off my dress. The encroaching shrubbery and trees tried to catch me in my race, but I refused to let them hinder me. Suddenly, I realized that I had been running and searching for much too long. The box was just at the opening of the forest; Carolina had not traveled to far to find it. I tried to turn around and head back to the house, the harbor, or the ocean, but I had no sense of direction. My fingers trailed along the trees, trunk to trunk, getting little scrapes from the bark. I seemed to glide through the forest, leaving little stains of dress behind.
  I had long ago begun to sweat and it was now seeping through my dress and making me very uncomfortable. I finally saw a true stream of light coming from the edge of the forest. My legs pumped harder for just a couple seconds and I found myself standing before the largest ship I had ever seen. Men seemed to be loaded onto the boat like cargo; a captain stood before the entrance with a piece of paper in hand, counting the members boarding his ship.
  My eyes drifted away from the captain and down the line of men. Only a moment passed before I noticed my father, standing about twenty feet from the entrance.
  “Father!” I yelled without thinking. I was about to shrink back into the trees, but he had already caught my eye.
  “Melody?” he called back, confusion laced in his tone.
  Other people in line turned their attention to me and a deep blush spread across my neck. I knew I looked absolutely terrible; my dress was covered in dirt and was ripped and torn. I looked down at my knees and tried to hide my face.
  “Melody, what are you doing?” he shouted in surprise.
  I did the only logical thing I could think of: Run. Within minutes, I could see the familiar hill from where I was. I slowed to a jog and then collapsed on the ground, coughing and choking on air. It seemed as if my throat was closed; I was dreadfully thirsty. I remembered my original task of disposing of the box, and I pushed the thought of father to the back of my mind with all the willpower I possessed and stood up once again, only to see the box just feet away from me.
  I knelt down in front of the box and appraised it before clicking the locks open and revealing my mother’s deepest secrets. My breathing, though already uneven, was becoming even more erratic. I could feel my temperature rise consistently.
  The first item that came to view was a very recent newspaper article. It was cut neatly and carefully, the edges perfectly straight. I picked it up with shaky fingers and a closed mind. I had been the one who cut it out from the paper the previous week. I had no intention of reading it for another time. I had sent it to father through the post just the day after it was printed, and this is evidently where he had placed it. I folded it and put it in the pocket of my ragged dress. The Bible was the next belonging that came into view; I felt a sob rack my chest as I held it faithfully in my dirty hands. The book fell open to a page with a dried flower stuck in between the folds. I picked it up and held it to my nose; the smell had faded to a dusty reminder of what it used to be.
  After rifling through the box’s contents for several more minutes, I came to the bottom to find a small piece of yellow lace. There was a piece of paper pinned to the backside that read: Wedding Dress. I smiled down at it sadly, knowing that my mother cherished her marriage with my father above all things. I closed my eyes and finally let all the pressure crash down on me.
  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and I wanted to dive into the ocean and never resurface. My stomach dropped to my feet and my teeth ground together. The truth of the past week was sinking deep into my skin and seeping into every pore of my body.
  At the same time, things began to click together when it came to my father’s departure. He built a new house for our family to live in, yet he would be leaving us to travel to America. He pitied our situation, particularly Carolina’s. The new maid he hired would replace the mother we just lost, and everything else would be on my shoulders from now on.
  I took the article out of my dress and stared down at the title: Buggy Incident Claims Life of Mother. My whole body was numb as I walked with the box towards the harbor. Locking it for the last time, I screamed the loudest I possibly could and threw the box into the ocean. I let the memories of my previous life drift away into the deepest part of the ocean, just like Carolina’s had in that wretched crash. Part of me wished I could have a clean slate like my sibling, but innocence can be just as painful as knowledge.