Evergreen Everleigh - The Wattys 2020

Chapter Fourteen - Icarus

Chapter Fourteen

Icarus

I try to push the memory of the little piece of jagged wood that now rests in the inside sleeve of Jayne Ellis's book, out of my mind as we walk. Every resident of Lady Lavender's Freesia Fields is there, in including Lady Lavender herself, and Wister. I imagine that to anyone on the outside we would appear to be eclectic constellation misfits and wanderers as we traipse through the long grass that begins the minute you step outside of the primed for appearance lawns of the front of house.

As I walk at the back of the group, I run my hand of the taller, tubular flowers. They are a sharp violet colour and look hooded in the afternoon light. It is still spring and far too early for them to bloom fully, whatever they may be.

"It's a cow-wheat." A voice says. I know from the long shadow that slips into pace beside me who it is. "It won't bloom fully until July or August."

"Are you a gardening expert?" I ask sincerely. Yarrow takes in my expression, as though looking for a mocking glint in my eyes. He softens when he finds only curiosity and my heart does a little flip. I tense at this and surreptitiously run my nails over the inside of my arm.

"No," Yarrow says, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand that looks rough and larger than a dining plate. "But Lady Lavender is. And I'm a good listener."

At this, he looks down at me as though he trying to convey a hidden meaning to me. If he's

insinuating that he wants to listen to spread all of my dark and nasty secrets, then he's going to be disappointed. My lips have been sealed shut for so long that divulging information that I cannot tell anyone seems impossible. Except perhaps to Wister, I concede to myself.

"How are you adjusting to being here?" It's Yarrow's turn to be sincere and I want to ask him why he cares so much. But I know the answer I want, and it's not one I should be looking for.

"Pretty well. I mean, this place is a lot nicer than some of the other places my mother has sent me." I smile up at him, meaning this to be a compliment, but he only frowns. My stomach squirms the same way it always does when I suspect I've disappointed someone. I scratch my arm harder still, but Yarrow ignores the action.

By now, I can see the slope of colourful fields in the distance and Juniper is positively bouncing at Aloe's side. Aloe grins down at her and I marvel at how easily a smile can transform her face into a thing of beauty, though I remember my mother's insistence for me to smile and I kill that thought. Someone shouldn't have to smile to be more pleasing to someone else. Not if that person is secretly very sad.

Sweet Pea is carrying Violet up ahead and an agitated Teasel is at her side. She has given him the responsibility of carrying our kite and he holds it fiercely under his arm.

From my brief encounters with either Teasel or Aster, I know both boys do not cope well in groups are only content when in each other's company. Lady Lavender seems to be telling a story and Aster is listening, rubbing his small hands over his ears until they are fiery red. 

Oh, what an odd group we are. Sweet Pea looks back and catches sight of Yarrow and me several yards behind everyone else. She grins at me but turns around immediately.

My cheeks are flaming. 

"You've been to a lot of places then?" Yarrow asks, gently. He runs a hand through his flop of caramel hair, his blue-grey eyes squinting in the sun. I gape at him and just about stifle a laugh as I gesture to my scars, and general appearance as if to say; Really? Have you not seen how messed up I am?

He backtracks straight and I watch how his hands do a comical flapping motion as he thinks he's offended me.

"I only meant to ask if your mother sends you away a lot?" He says. He catches sight of my broad smile and elbows me in the ribs, annoyed that I'm laughing at him. I touch the spot where his elbow touched my ribs gently. Other than the brief but affectionate touches of Sweet Pea, that has been the only human contact I have had whilst at Freesia Fields that had impacted me.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity. Yarrow doesn't miss this and though there is a question in his eyes, I don't explain that I do this whenever a therapist asks me about my mother. Of late, I had taken to doing it whenever she stepped into the room.

"She does. I have a younger brother and sister. Harmony and Henry, their twins and they're my whole world," A tremble begins in my shoulders as I realise how much of myself I am sharing to a boy who is practically a stranger, albeit a kind one. "She wants me away from them so they don't see the worst of my... issues. So I've been to three facilities." 

Adding that none of them have worked seems a little obvious. I wouldn't be here if I was recovered.

The first field of just baby pink freesias is approaching and the others are running. Wister doesn't and I suspect that he is keeping a close eye on us, in particular, me. I am grateful once more for his non-invasive personality.

"We all have issues. There's never a magic wand or magic facility that will do it." Yarrow says, kindly. His gait has slowed now and I slow down to match. My dead and emotionless heart gives another weak flop at this.

"Do we all have issues?" I ask, stopping altogether. I fall nearly a foot shorter than him, so I have to stare into the sun to see his face. At this, a distant memory of telling Harmony and Henry a bedtime story involving Icarus flying his wax wings too close to the sun settles unbidden in my mind.

"If you're asking about me, then yes, I have issues and plenty of them."

"You always seem so together," I say, not trying to offend him or seem as though I am prying, despite the fact that I am desperate to know his truth. Especially when mine is so plain in my scarred wrists and face and my thin, dilapidated body.

He starts walking again and for a moment I truly fear that I have ruined any kind of small friendship we may have had. Panic burns across my chest and my throat contracts. I walk behind him for a moment and when my hand rests upon the first pink freesia I have ever touched. I raise my hand to shield my eyes from both his smile and the sun.

"You should remember, I was here first and long before any of you. And I'm still here."