Evergreen Everleigh - The Wattys 2020

Chapter Forty-Eight - Life's a Beach

(This is a beautiful beach near where I am fortunate enough to live in Ireland)

Chapter Forty-Eight

Life's a Beach

No one but me seemed surprised to find that Wister was a terrible driver. When the butter-yellow mini-bus with rusting wheel alloys and an impressive collection of leaves stuck behind the windshield wipers emerged from an old barn building to the rear of Freesia Fields, everyone beamed. Everyone seemed to know what this bus meant. 

Except me. I was too busy wondering if this was how Aloe had been transported to the hospital. Would there be blood on the seats? My stomach had turned.

Everyone had gleefully turned tail and dashed back inside, fighting each other to make it up the staircase first, age, and all illusions of maturity gone. I stood in utter confusion, looking at the rather hideous bus as Wister proudly clapped the bonnet and Lady Lavender walked back toward the house, holding a sulking Violet in both hands.

"What's happening?" I asked as Wister winked at me. Granted, it was a clumsy wink, but a wink nonetheless.

Lady Lavender stopped several feet before me and glanced up at the bright morning sunlight that promised a scorching July day. 

"We're going to the beach!" 

*

Forty-five minutes later, the glow of excitement at the idea of a summer day at the beach had worn off. 

"Do you think we'll ever make it?" Aster mutters under his breath from the seat in front of me, where he and Teasal have begun to fidget restlessly. At this, Yarrow shrugs, eyeing Wister cautiously. 

I peer over the peeling leather seat in front of me at the driver's seat. Wister is gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles are bone white. Unless I am very much mistaken, a sweat has broken out across his forehead. Lady Lavender sits near the front, eyeing Wister with apprehension. She twists in her seat to face us. 

"He's a nervous driver," She mouths, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. Willow has to stuff a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, because the reality is that the mini-bus is moving at a less than glacial pace. 

Sweet Pea sits beside, Violet on her lap aftering having some milk. Violet tugs Sweet Pea's ribbon and drags on the end until she can put it in her mouth. Delicately, I pluck it from her grasp. Sweet Pea smiles at me appreciate before moving to put Violet back in her car seat in the seats across the way. Violet was already dressed in a lilac gingham swimsuit, building with her swimming nappy. Wister and Lady Lavender had been gathering supplies for weeks, hoping for a perfectly warm day. 

I watch the road out of the window next to me. Sunlight streaks through the glass, highlighting spider webs and stains on the glass, but I keep my eyes focused on the mountainside as we descend towards the nearby strand. According to Wister, it was all but abandoned and we had Freesia Field's rural nature to thank for that. It was easier to focus on the smaller things, like sun beams and Cedar's hayfever, rather than the alternative. 

I cannot seem to unnotice the sensation of the band of material across my stomach and chest, a crimson swimsuit with frills at the hips and tied at the neck as a haltertop. I wore a simple sundress, muted in a lemon shade, but still I couldn't help but wonder about what would happened when we reached the coast. 

"We're here!" Juniper shrieks, causing Perennial to clasp her hands over her ears. I follow Juniper's pointing finger. At first, I can't see anything because of the sheer luminescent of the reflection of the water. Then, the waves appear at the same time as the wheels of the min-bus hit the sand. 

Lady Lavender was right. The beach is completely deserted. 

I emerge from the doorway of the bus last, my stomach beginning to cramp familiarly with my usual form of non-descript anxiety which usually arrives when I am expected to be a fully functioning person who is capable of thought outside of their body.

The wind whips my braid over my shoulder and I walk my friends, loveable humans of all ages, tearing off their layers of clothing, racing to run into the briny ocean water. Wister runs after them, shouting about water safety, whilst Lady Lavender coaxes Violet into help her pick up the clothes that had been flung in all directions. 

Sweet Pea looks back over her shoulder, confused at my reluctance, but is immediately distracted by a fierce splash of icy water that hits her shins. 

For a moment, I lose myself entirely. Poppy, Everleigh...does it matter really? It doesn't when all I can see is a four-year-old version of myself, all freckles and pigtails, standing on a similar beach with my grandmother, telling her that I just saw my grandfather. Who had died two years previously. 

Before I realise what I have done, my toes touch the water. The water is unsympathetic, stinging my skin and sending goosebumps up my arms and around my scalp. But I just keep walking, passed the ghosts that haunted me once and those that still haunt me now. When the water hits my waist, causing my white sundress to suction itself to my flesh, I realise that I can be both.

The girl with issues and the girl healing from said issues. Both exist together. They have to, or else I might never make it out the otherside. 

I raise my hands above my head and start to spin on the spot, moving so quickly that the seagulls overhead become flashing blurs of blinding white and stony-grey. I am buffeted by the waves, but I keep moving, keep spinning. That is, until, a particularly rough wave catches me by the side and I am pulled under water. This does not shock me, but instead wipes the slate of my mind clear, the clearest it has been in years. 

I may never be strong enough to leave the comfort blanket of my illness. I won't be until I am. I can't leave until I do. 

Smooth hands grab me under my armpits and haul me above the surface. The first breath of fresh air is beautifully painful, stinging he lining of my lungs. 

I open my eyes to see Yarrow holding me upright, our friends around us. Before he can so much ask if I am alright, I grin, salt water biting my chapped lips, but I simply do not care. 

"I'm going home," I say and for the first time in my weary life of self-inflicted pain, home sounds a lot like relief. 

A/N: 

Hello friends, 

Happy Friday! I hope you're having a nice evening - or morning depending on where you are! I'd love to hear where you are from, actually as I can tell by my stats that I have some far-flung places!

I hope you liked the chapter, only very few left to go. 

Jens x