by Jane Larry
Love Letters
By Jane Larry
Copyright © 2013 by CED Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.
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First Edition
“If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night…” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
It was a sleepy day, like every day leading up to March. The ground was quiet. The trees were still. And the birds were gliding steadily through the air, as if to say, “I have all the time in the world.” But the truth of the matter was, they didn’t. None of us did. But it was nice that every time Lisa walked by Roxburry and stood in place, she herself could stop time and live in a single moment for as long as she wanted. Of course, like clockwork, Hanna would appear at the crossing and call her out from her stupor. And they would walk together to the next bend where their school was located.
It may not have been obvious at first glance but today was a special day for most Great Rapids high schoolers. Spring Break was just eight hours away and everyone was eager to get the next day started. Inside the crowded halls, students were already amped up for the impending dismissal. As the minutes went, they grew more and more excited about their prospects. There were talks of taking trips down to Miami with older siblings. Some guys were enthusiastic about finally losing their virginities to strangers they would meet at house parties they were invited to. A group of cheerleaders were discussing what they should wear during a lake trip they were going to take with some guys from the football and basketball team. At the opposite side were three Asian kids grumbling about the fact that they had to fly back home for Easter and spend time with non-English speaking relatives. Down the walkway were the student body president and the class photographer discussing details of the graduation yearbook. Without missing their cue, the line-up of jocks came along, clearing everyone out of the path, as they always did.
Hanna, like the rest of the warm-blooded females in the room, could not contain her excitement as John Mitchell – athlete extraordinaire – passed by and gave her some attention. True to her offbeat and crazy character, she divulged her ingenious plan of convincing her parents to rent out a cottage in the same Lake District as the cheer squad and then sneaking over to their camp for an invite. Lisa never understood the fuss over John Mitchell or the rest of the guys on the team. Personally, she thought they were mostly jerks, although she kindly passed some off as strangers. They had no merit except for a few game wins here and there; no substance, and none of the Shakespearean heroic attributes she admired. See, if she were to choose someone she’d fall in love with, it would definitely be someone like her dad – someone who was passionate, chivalrous and truthful; someone who was willing to step out of a mundane and shallow existence for the person he loved. However, this didn’t matter at that moment because there was so much to occupy her apart from love. So as Hanna bid her goodbye, Lisa thought about what Spring Break had in store for her.
* * *
Lisa Reynolds was your typical junior. She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful. She wasn’t especially smart either but she got by with some effort and a few social connections. She wasn’t someone you would say was popular but she could easily be picked out from the crowd. Some people said she looked like a mixture of Carey Mulligan and Anne Hathaway, with the graceful callousness of Angelina Jolie. But for her, she was the perfect blend of her mom and dad, with her thick brown hair, which she inherited from her mother’s Italian lineage, and broad shoulders, which she got from her father’s athletic English-Armenian pedigree. She had a round face accentuated by cat eyes, a celestial nose and thick lips. And she had distinct pointy ears which she often hid behind knit and crochet hats. Lisa’s height was about 5 feet 6 inches, which God paired with a mesomorph build. But what set her apart was the mole on her upper right cheek, which her seventh grade homeroom teacher said gave her a vivacious and powerful character.
Far be it for her to deny it. Lisa was quite aware of her stubborn side. And even those she did not know well recognized that she was an authority figure in her own right and should not be messed with. But this has not translated well for her social life in school as it was quite limited. However, Lisa was mostly to blame for the disconnection as she was not the type of person who was keen on establishing random ties. Hanna was not even someone she considered a true friend as she had the tendency to withdraw herself around her. And by far, the only ones who really knew her were her parents. But they were no longer there to remind her to open up.
Her aunt said the guard she displayed might have stemmed from being an only child and losing her parents too soon. But most of the time Lisa just credited it to her fondness for freedom, which she experienced fully in solitude. It wouldn’t be surprising to find her in the library in between and after classes or up on the bleachers alone, with a book in hand. However, with Spring Break just around the corner, it seemed inevitable that her days of predictable calm would be interrupted by the unnecessary activities her adoptive family was going to organize.
Fortunately, when she got home that day, there were no talks of vacations or part time jobs. Her aunt was out accompanying the kids at their dance recital and her uncle was on the phone with a client who had concerns over the website he had built. She took some time to attend to the dog, who was the only one aware of her arrival. And after feeding him, she went immediately upstairs to settle her affairs and make plans for the next fourteen days.
* * *
About five hours earlier, her Literature professor took the liberty of assigning their final paper which involved writing a 4,000 word short story on any genre, using any of the narrative structures he had discussed during class. Mr. Kallum emphasized that they were individually going to be scored according to originality, creativity, vocabulary/grammatical accuracy, registry and delivery, which would comprise a third of their grade for the year. And that he expected outputs to be given by the time everyone got back. This was, of course, met with resentment and petition but Mr. Kallum was enjoying the tortured reactions too much to show any leniency.
So for the next two hours after the last class, Lisa browsed the library for short stories of previous students that Mr. K had bound and displayed in the archives. And in addition, she picked up a few Coelho and Garcia-Marquez novels since they were known to be the professor’s favorites in contemporary literature. She took The Alchemist, Eleven Minutes and Love In The Time Of Cholera; even pondered on getting either One Hundred Years Of Solitude or Chronicle Of A Death Foretold, but eventually settled on the latter to give some variety to her stack. By 5 o’clock, Lisa left and headed off to Riddell’s for dinner with Hanna and a few other friends. And in the two hour long affair, they went into details of their impending holidays.
“I can’t believe you’re going that far,” Jodie cooed after Hanna narrated the details of her scheme.
“I know right?! But if I don’t do it now, when will I ever get the opportunity to live out that fairytale romance. When he goes off to college, I won’t be able to see him anymore. So I’m taking my chances,” Hanna retorted.
“But what’s the point? It’s not like anything’s going to change if you did. The best case scenario would be he’d finally know you exist…but t
hat’s after you embarrass yourself,” Melissa unsympathetically interjected.
“Well, YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE!” said Hanna, which Melissa appropriately scoffed at.
“Sure, that’ll get you deflowered by a jerk!” And they all laughed.
Lisa was pretty mum to the whole idea and kept her participation in the conversation to a minimum with soft laughter and considerate nods. Personally, she thought it was nonsense. But she was not going to be the one who would point out the obvious and make Hanna feel like a fool. First of all, Hanna was not going to let the chance pass her by, regardless of common sense. And John Mitchell was going to do that on her behalf anyways so she doesn’t have to wear out the friendship cord just yet. In her head, she was hoping that the imminent failure of Hanna’s master plan would end her desperate attachment to men and make her realize that there’s so much more to be concerned about than a high school fling with an over-glorified athlete.
“So what’s your agenda, Lisa?” Hanna asked, which prompted an awkward silence over the table.
“Mr. Kallum’s homework?” she replied coyly to which the girl’s again laugh, misinterpreting it as a joke.
A few fries and sips of milkshake more and everyone was already eager to go home. But before they completely parted ways, Hanna asked Lisa to stay as she wanted to talk to her about something in private. Alone, Hanna confronted Lisa about her thoughts on the whole party crashing plan and insisted she told the truth about it. Lisa finally fessed up and said it was a careless and immature idea. But as expected, Hanna just took it the wrong way and walked out after saying a few hurtful words.
“Don’t preach to me about immaturity when you’re the one who hasn’t grown up! At least I have. At least I try! You know, just because you have this tragic past, doesn’t mean you need to carry it over your present and infect everyone around you with this grim outlook. Stop being so cynical! Go to therapy already!”
To which Lisa yelled back, “Well, good luck being desperate!”
She didn’t see it, Lisa thought. She wasn’t trying to rain down on her parade. She just didn’t think John Mitchell was who Hanna should end up with, let alone give the effort for. The only thing remotely redeeming about him was that he was kind when he shot down Amber Kirsch’s invitation to the Sadie Hawkins in favor of Sophie Valet, who was the head cheerleader. But of course, that didn’t stand for too long because he didn’t have any problem talking about overweight Amber the minute he got back to the popular table. He was hardly the prince everyone saw him to be. Nevertheless, tradition made it difficult for her to prove otherwise to Hanna.
When she was about to leave herself, Lisa noticed a book underneath the adjacent table and decided to pick it up and endorse it to management, just in case the owner came back looking for it. But having noticed that it was one of Mr. K’s compiled class short stories from some years back, she decided to take it home and use it to her advantage. She reckoned she could return it after a week, when she was done with the assignment so that the person who smuggled it out of the library could also make use of it. But given the fact that it was illegal for that copy to have been taken out in the first place, she was confident that the culprit would not show up and make a fuss over losing it.
* * *
When Lisa got to her room, she started unloading her books and flipping through her notes from the classes she had earlier. Most of the teachers were kind, bidding everyone a fun holiday, as if they knew Mr. Kallum’s huge project take away by the end of the day. In her big blue notebook, which was prescribed by the teacher for their writing activities, she scanned lectures and read through a passage on the works of Garcia-Marquez. In his discourses, Mr. K had emphasized Garcia-Marquez’s frequent application of realism in his plots and his dedication to Colombian traditions and themes, making them the rational parameters of the stories he established. Sometimes, this gave his writings a flat and unsentimental affect. But experts viewed this as his strength not to mention the source of his novel’s allure.
Paulo Coelho did the opposite and captivated the imagination with loud and innovative imagery. And he created stories that were unique, powerful and well-represented. Now, even though he was selfish at times, taking only to account his own point of views, he never failed to make them relatable and to make the readers understand and experience a world outside of their norm. In her head, Lisa found it difficult to decide which route to take and more importantly, what to base all her work on. The obvious and probably meritorious choice was to write about the car accident she was involved in with her parents four years ago. But that didn’t seem like something she could develop well. So she took to the book she swiped for inspiration. And they came pouring out like rain.
Tucked within the book were pages of random scribbling about ideas and feelings that a person wanted to expound on.
One read:
“Sadness is a fate worse than illness. With illness, the suffering eventually ends – not by your own will but by the fact that it is a self-limiting experience. In sadness, the suffering never stops. Sometimes, it lasts a lifetime. And there is no exact cure for it.”
While another had:
“We are liars, consciously and unconsciously. We do what we must and not what we want. We please others instead of please ourselves. We accept and compromise even though we want things to go our way. The world makes us liars. And to survive, we must always lie.”
Other pages were song lyrics and poetry borrowed from the likes of The Police, The Cure, Pablo Neruda and Edgar Allan Poe. It was obviously a dreary set of concepts so Lisa found it best to avoid being influenced by them. And as it was getting late, she opted to postpone the brainstorming session the next day, when she’d have a fresher perspective on things.
* * *
As expected, the first day of Spring Break was quiet in the Freeder household. It was already eight in the morning and yet everyone was still asleep, even the dog. Lisa got up and made her way down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the troops. And as per tradition, she put on Foo Fighters “Learn To Fly” on blast to get everyone out of bed.
“Run and tell all of the angels. This could take all night. Think I need the devil to help me get things right…” Lisa sang as she took out the pans and mix out of cupboards. She then continued on for about 40 seconds until a stream of loud footsteps came downstairs and upset groans demanded her to stop. The last creature that made his way down the steps was the dog. And after being attended to, Lisa’s Aunt Jerri turned her attention to preparing human food and helped out by getting the eggs and bacon.
“Sorry for waking up late,” she said.
“Oh, no worries. It’s Spring Break. It’s normal.”
“Well, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping until noon?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got something I want to get an early start on. So how was the recital?” Lisa asked as she looked on to her half asleep cousins sitting by the table.
“It was amaaaaazing! Josie here had a solo. And Jasmine got to play the lead in a drama presentation. I had recorded the whole thing for you and Jimmy.”
“Thanks. I’ll watch it later. Speaking of which, I think he’s had a rough night. Was he up when you got home?”
“Up and upset. But that’s just how it is. Last I checked on him was around one in the morning and he was still awake. Fortunately, that guy could sleep through anything when he’s tired.”
* * *
After the short breakfast, Lisa decided to pack up her stuff and go to the park to reflect on her homework. She decided to bring the dog along so he could have some exercise as well since he had been cooped up inside the house for a week.
The park was always beautiful this time of the year as it bloomed back into life. The trees were especially magical with their blossoms spurting out. But what’s impressive about all of this was that, just a few days ago, they were already withered and seemingly dead. Now, they were alive and again, bursting with potential.
It was never a secret to
the family that Lisa’s mom loved the park. In fact, it was one of the reasons why they moved into the neighborhood. According to her, the park felt unpretentious and welcoming. And she said she had this feeling that as long as it was around and in reach, it would give her family a daily reminder of hope. Lisa recalled how she often went to the park with her mom when she was younger. And how they would either play around or lounge under the shade of an oak tree when they were feeling tired. She thought about how they’d usually set up a blanket on this hill with a view of the pond and sometimes bring along a picnic basket of comfort foods. And how when she were feeling lazy, her mom would let her nap on her lap and just allow the afternoon pass as if they didn’t have anything else better to do.
On her way there, Lisa remembered how it took about a year before she was able to step foot again in that park after her parent’s death. She was still dealing with the memories she had acquired on the drive back home from the hospital when she saw the park and remembered what it meant to her mother. Yes, it was a sad time. But looking back through the rear view mirror she saw the lone oak tree on the hill, standing in its full glory, crowned by the sun. And immediately understood what she needed to take away from the experience.
On the very same spot she used to spend time with her mother, Lisa spread out a small cover and put down her things, which included a netbook, a copy of Love In The Time Of Cholera and the compilation she had taken from the restaurant. She then pierced the ground with a steel hook which she utilized as a tying post for the dog. And because it was still a bit cold from the passing winter, she decided to put on a light sweater before she sat down.
As she took the atmosphere in, she noticed that the air had definitely changed. There was no doubt that spring had arrived. And in view of the slowly thawing lake, Lisa gave a sigh of relief for what she forecasted would be a beautiful day.
* * *
After thinking about it, Lisa decided to write a love story that was set in the park, in memory of her parents. Although they didn’t exactly meet and fall in love there, she decided she would weave parts of their life into the characters she was going to create and make the park their romantic setting. Not only did it simplify the plot creation process for her, it also made it more personal. So she went to work right away. And as she slowly picked up momentum, a Frisbee flew by and got Rosco excited. The next thing she knew, the dog was already chasing after it at lightning speed. The ruffled Lisa tried running after him but the puny mutt was just too fast for her unprepared feet. Fortunately, someone was able to get a hold of his leash and calm him down before he got lost. As the stranger made his way up to Lisa, who was panting miserably, she began to feel a sense of alarm creep in.
