Finding Olive

Memories

Why? Why couldn't she have just told me? Now Olive is missing and probably has little hope of coming back if any. But why, why lie?

The trees no longer seemed kind and inviting. They snickered each time the wind gave them breath and cast an eerie, ominous shadow on the dusty, leaf covered ground. The brook chuckeld cruelly as I leapt over it.

" WHY IS EVERYTHING MAKING FUN OF ME!" I screamed.

I collapsed in a muddled heap by a willow tree and began to cry again. I felt hopeless. I didn't have the will to pick myself up off the ground. Olive is gone, I'm adopted, my whole life is lies, and I'm lost in the woods. Things can't get much worse from here.

Maybe my teachers will just forget about me. I'll turn into soil like Mrs. Crane said all animals do. Or maybe I'll listen to the trees and correct their grammar. May as well since they'd be the only things I'd really be able to talk to. At least they won't judge me. I feel one, small inconspicuous tear slide down my thorn scratched face.

The more I lay there, the more my thoughts wander. I wonder what my real mother and father look like. It reminds me that my whole life has been a lie which makes me incredibly angry. I stand and pick up a small stone and hurl it at a large, majestic Oak tree. I look up. The sun is setting and it create a beautiful array of colors. The vivid, fiery, chilli tinted sun blazed strongly amongst the soft,swirling clouds that decorated the vibrant electric blue sky.

I realize that I should probably at least attempt to find somewhere to sleep. I climb into a little crook in the Willow tree's branches. Once I am sure this is where I want to sleep, I climb back down and collect some things for bedding. I first collect some leaves. Then I find some moss.

As I run my fingers over the spongy, moist texture of the moss, I think of my blanket in my bed room from when I was little. All the nights I spent curled up in that blanket staring at the stars similar to the ones peeking out from behind the trees now. Hung with great care, given a true purpose, just watching the world's beauty and strife without becoming a part of it. Easy it would be to be a star. I thought longingly. This made me think of a song. I began to sing it. I felt the smooth lagato notes flow easliy from my mouth creating a nice melody. It was probably a lullaby. I can remember a sweet, sooting ,male voice singing it. But my supposed father never sang.

Sing no more of sorrow gloom,

Sing no more of the world's noise and strife,

Sing to the beauty and brightness of life!

Sing to me, sing to me, sing to me!

And the long lichens cling, the long lichens cling

And the sweet flowers blow, the sweet flowers blow

I know there is more but my mind cannot process the rest of the memory.

"Who sang that song to me?"I ask to no one in particular.

"Was it my real father?"

I dwelled on this thought while the song echoed through my mind as I stared at the twinkling stars in heaven above. He has a beatiful voice if he is the one singing. I let the soothing voice lull me into sleep.

. . .

I woke early the next morning when the first cry of dawn cut through my dream. A little Mocking bird was whistling in the topmost branches of my tree. I whistled back. Melissa had taught me how to mimick the beautiful songbird almost perfectly. She had been better than I though. A cool mist had settled amongst the trunks of the trees making the air moist. Whether it was because of the damp air conditions or being curled up against a hard tree, my neck and back were very sore. I climb down from the tree and feel the mist curl gently around my ankles like a cat wanting to be petted.

I know my way to the crossroads. If I continue in the opposite direction that the trees are leaning, I should pass a little stream,go over the fallen tree, and end up at the crossroads. But I'm so hungry. I walk for approximately 5 minutes or so and happen upon some wild blackberry bushes.

I reach into my military green hoodie pocket and pull out the miniature,canvas draw string bag my ex-mother always had me take in case of emergencies. I began to sort out the good berries from the bad, ate my share, and filled up the bag. The blackberries were so sweet. A wonderful bit of flavor added to the awful events of the past few days. It was almost hard to savor them.

Even though I knew where I was going it would be a good hour and a half before I arrived if I walked non-stop. I began my trek toward Olive's last known location. The swayed gently in the cool morning breeze causing the vibrant, early waking rays of sunlight to create an orangs,glowng hue around the edges of the emrald green leaves. I was constantly tripping over brambles,twigs, roots. I saw that I was making good time and began move at a faster, uneven pace. Unfortunately I had overlooked a fair sized tree root and was propelled over it. I slid across the hard dirt and it burned my chin.

The dirt in my already painful thron piercings from the day before now burned like fire since more dust has just collected there. I pulled myself up with a great deal of pain.

"Oomf. Sssss. Owwww."

I thought that my elbow had just barely grazed the roots but it hadn't . The root was a nasty little booger that ripped a fair amout of top skin off my arm. There was puss and blood oozing from the wound. The root had ripped through my hoodie sleeve as well. I pulled myself up with my other arm and wrapped the sleeve back around my elbow. Bad choice. The searing pain clouded my senses and I couldn't focus. The pain threw off my jugdement and so finally,I sat down and took a five minute break. I need water. I need to clean the wound or it will become infected.

I half pulled,half dragged my aching body to its feet in search of water. I stumbled on,on,and on,on but had zero luck. The blood began to clot and it formed a nasty,oozing,puss-filled scab. Every time I attempted to move a jolt of pain shot through my arm faster than lighting causing me to do something between a wince and a grimace.

. . .

Hours later I made it to the creek by the crossroads and cleansed mhy numerous wounds. As soon as I saw the creek, I began to "run" and tumbled blindly down the hill and landing with a "Sploosh!" Into the creek bed. The cool, clear water refreshed me from the inside out. I gently and precautiously rinsed my wounds. They were thick with blood and gore. As I watched the water I saw the blood and dirt be carried swiftly toward the downstream area. I plunged my still stinging sticky face into water and vigorously rubbed at the small scratches. Tons of mud slid off my face and into the water. I let the water comb gently through my hair as I floated on my back with my eyes closed.

Olive! My eyes fluttered open and I climbed clumsily out of the creek. I need to get to her! I see the old gas station on the corner and walk inside. The door opened with a loud creek and a little rusty,old,silver bell jingled merrily behind me. I walked up to the counter and saw a woman at the cash register. She was a short,plump woman with auburn hair. Her features looked as if they couldn't decide if they wanted to be male or female. Then she smiled.

It tipped the scales to a beautiful female. It was one of those smiles that even if your whole life you had lived blind you'd be able to see it and it would lift your heart higher than the tallest church spire. It put fresh,bright red and blue uniform to shame. Maybe heaven was looking down on her...

"What can I do for you, child?" She had a little bit of a country lilt and it added even more optimism to her smile.

"Huh?"

"What can I do for you?" She repeated.

"Oh umm..." I looked for a name tag but couldn't find one.

"Sandy dear. It's Sandy."

"Oh... Sandy. Have you seen a girl about my age with a man with a blue mini van?"

"As a matter of fact I have young miss." She replied.

This is it. The news I've been waiting for.