Blake Gabriel started writing in the fifth grade when he realized his love for storytelling. Throughout the years, he has practiced his craft, writing short stories, novels, and stage plays. He writes for The Viking Views, Hoover High School’s student newspaper, and hopes to finish writing a novel by the time he graduates. He is as of yet unpublished but hopes to be sometime in the near future.
Beneath Emerald Eaves
2009 WinnerI remember the day well, every detail frozen in the crystal-clear image of my memory. The noon sun peered like a curious friend through the curtain of rustling leaves over my head. I was kneeling, uncaring of the grass that would stain my jeans; I was too focused on the blue jaybird perched in the highest branches of the tree. My camera clicked three times in rapid succession.
The photos were perfect. The little bird almost seemed to be regarding me with a beady eye, as if to say, what do you think you’re doing. When I looked up to silently thank the bird, it had already fluttered away. Too bad, I thought, that little guy could win me the front cover.
When I rose to my feet, the camera tucked safely in its bag; all thoughts of the bird flew away with it. I’ve never been much of a romantic; I always thought that love at first sight garbage was a joke Hollywood had invented to fool unwitting teenagers. But if irony could have clubbed me over the head, it would have.
Time seemed to slow and my cares melted away. I forgot about getting back to the office and uploading my photos, even though my deadline was in three hours. And never mind that I didn’t even know the woman, if she was that; she could’ve been an angel.
She was tall, maybe to my nose, and slender like a sapling, young and vibrant, unbowed by age or the weight of care. She moved with a dancer’s grace, stepping lightly from pedestrian to pedestrian. People that passed her did not walk away without a flyer pressed into their hands.
In a daze, I approached her. Taking each step slowly and steadily, I was afraid she would disappear as soon as I got closer, like a desert mirage, too good to be true.
She spotted me walking towards her and smiled sweetly. Twinkling blue eyes like starlight sparkled with delight as she pressed a bright, neon green flyer into my hands.
“Hello, sir, I’m Kay Mackenzie and I represent the Central Park Preservation Society,” she said. “Did you know that talking to trees has a karmic effect and helps to release stress?”
“Um… No, I didn’t.” I didn’t know she was a hippie either, but I guess her floral print dress and her tie-dye wristband gave it away.
“Oh, yes it does. A study conducted by Greenpeace proves that when human beings interact with trees, they can become calmer,” Kay continued. I could tell from her enthusiasm she was what you’d call a true believer.
“Right, tell it to the lumberjacks when a tree is about to fall on them.” I didn’t mean to sound cynical, but from her expression I knew she thought I was yet another callous and ignorant member of the mainstream society.
“I will tell them when they come to cut down those beautiful willows.” She pointed to a grove of weeping willows by the water’s edge.
They were nice to look at, I’ll admit, but they were just trees. By now, that dazed, smitten-with-love feeling was vanishing, but I persisted.
“Listen, Kay, right?” I paused to see if I had caught her attention. She was silent, waiting for me to speak, but her eyes were flitting around, searching for more people to win to her cause. “I’m interested in your study. Really. But I’d hear you better over a cup of coffee.”
Kay cocked an eyebrow at me,
“Was that some kind of lousy pick-up line?” I nodded with reluctance. She smiled with uncertainty. “Maybe. But I don’t even know your name and if I’m having coffee with you, I won’t be passing out flyers.”
“I’m Mark Wheely.” I stuck out my hand and she just sort of looked at it. I withdrew it. “And if you give me a stack of those, I can give them to the people at the National Geographic.”
“Oh, you work for the Geographic?” Kay searched my eyes for any deception. She bit her bottom lip in thought. “Okay. As long as you promise.”
“I promise.” I’m pretty sure I sounded sincere. I hope.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go to coffee with you.”
I remember the day, when beneath the emerald eaves, I met Kaylynn Mackenzie, self-professed arborist and who I had jokingly called the defender of Central Park. She didn’t like that one very much, but she must have liked something about me. She did give me her number and made me promise to call her.
Our first dates went well, as far as I could tell. I’d talk about my job and she’d encourage me everyday to go green. Once, I found all of the light bulbs in my house replaced with eco-friendly ones. I knew it had to be her, only I hadn’t given her my keys.
We had known each other only half a year before we became mutually exclusive. Frankly, I don’t know what kept me with her so long. I think it was her energy. She was beautiful, but a pretty face can only hold a man down for so long. No, it was her energy, her life force I guess she’d call it, that attracted me so powerfully. And her eyes, oh, her eyes could trap a man forever.
It didn’t last though. Ironically, it was spring when the inevitable happened, right there in Central Park where we’d met.
I remember the day that cold spring, its details engraved in my soul. The sun had coldly decided to sleep in as its rays barely kissed the still starlit sky. Beneath boughs of leafy green I had stopped to catch my breath, my lungs burning from my exertions.
Kay jogged towards me, dodging like a dainty cat past other joggers.
“Hey, slowpoke, you coming or are you going to sit there all morning?” She didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat. God, I was out of shape.
“Give me a break, Kay. I can barely keep up.” I didn’t mention the great view of her I had from behind though. You had to be blind not to notice her figure.
“Alright, we’ll take a break so little Marky can rest.” Kay knew I hated the nickname but she was a stubborn girl.
She took my hand and led me to the water’s edge, beneath her favorite set of willows. Pulling me close, she kissed me; another sign of her thanks for my help in saving her trees. I pulled a few strings and the Geographic was able to get the willows declared a scenic area. Nobody would be able to build there for several years.
We didn’t need to speak to enjoy each other’s company. It was one of those moments when you start thinking about your life, about the future and all that. Two years from now, would I still be with Kay? Looking at her, biting her bottom lip and watching the sky with the avid attention of a five-year-old watching television, I was unsure.
“Kay? Where are we going with our relationship?”
“That’s an odd question.” She pursed her lips and met me eye-to-eye. Her chocolate-brown hair framed her face like the curtains of leafy green swaying above us. “I thought we were taking it a step at a time.”
I nodded, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, my eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, but we’ve been together for a while now. I just want to know if there’s something at the end of the road for us.”
“I thought it was the journey, not the destination that mattered.” Kay looked hurt and confused.
Sighing, I tried to hold her hands to comfort her but she pulled away.
“Kay, I need something concrete, not promises that could blow away with the wind. I need to know if we’re going somewhere. Are we?”
“I don’t know, Mark.” Kay brushed her hands against her green dress. “The uncertainty was the fun of it.”
“Was?” My heart caught in my throat. Kay turned away, her eyes tracing the horizon.
She nodded sadly. “I’m sorry, Mark. If you can’t trust me not to ‘blow away with the wind,’ then I’m not sure if we should be together. Can you trust me?”
I stopped myself from answering right away. Did I trust her? Could I? Then I realized the truth and though it killed my heart to say it, I knew I had to. “No. No, you’re right Kay. “
Kay stood up but rather than leaving she gently nudged my chin up to look me in the eye. She kissed my forehead.
“Mark, I want you to know, it was a wonderful experience. You’re a great guy and I know you’ll find the right girl someday.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“You too, Kay. I wish the best for you.” We embraced for the last time then she vanished, like a forest spirit of myth, into the trees.
Beneath those emerald eaves I had met Kay and beneath those emerald eaves I had lost her. I often wonder if perhaps I had said yes, she would have stayed. But doing so would have been lying, and she deserved better than that even if it meant losing her.
Though my heart wrenches with every thought of her, I know it was for the best. We shared some blissful times but it was a love that never could be. But Kay was right in the end. It was never the destination that mattered, but the journey.
I will always remember Kay and our times beneath emerald eaves. I hope she does too.