‘You really don't have to come to the store everyday, I can manage,’ said Min at least twice a week, each time reminding Sol that she was obviously a better expert when it came to botany, as well as managing business than her. Sometimes a frightening thought of doubt appeared, wondering, how will I run this place when it’s my turn. However, she mostly stuck to the same poor excuse or denial saying to herself, there is still time for me to learn everything. And with that she dumped this huge responsibility entirely on Min of which she was temporarily free off.
Maybe there was a grain of truth in this, but only to her conscious mind, because of course that was a lie and there was no way Min could possibly figure that out. Each time Sol came to the store to offer a ‘helping hand’ was the opportunity to catch a new detail previously missed about the girl.
In her movements enormous fluidity ran, and even if she were to never become associated with her, she would most definitely be able to admit that this girl had something – something to envy.
Trough one or two hour visit, Sol would help as much as her abilities let her. That meant simple things like cleaning the wooden shelves, windows, floor, as well as taking out garbage and handling with simple orders over the phone. The more she observed this mysterious girl the more Sol was convinced she truly was born with these sets of skills – later however she informed her that that was not the case, as her deceased grandmother taught her everything there is to know.
In the small span of hours, she shared with Min in the store, Sol started to believe she had to be the most beautiful girl she ever saw, perhaps even the world at large, and with each dawn this belief got more and more concrete, burned into her mind.
Her asymmetry was simply baffling. If each feature on that Min’s face were extracted separately it wouldn't create an impression, however when all of them were placed just at the right distance and angle apart from one another, it created for a masterpiece. She was a walking painting of little flaws and mishaps, and even so dozens of people turned their heads towards her, while keeping their compliments to themselves, clearly intimidated by her being.
While Min was working she always sported a hair put up in a messy ponytail, the same she saw in the convenience store. That was her part-time job, which she got quite used to, but against the sudden change of situation became only a replaceable factor in her life.
‘Trust is a bond stronger than money,’ is what Min told Sol. ‘And if someone is betting their life on you, you better not screw up.’
Curses she would throw here and there were never acting as a filler word to a sentence. She added them to make a statement stronger, to emphasis the meaning she wanted to share. Cursing was devoid in Sol’s nature, as she never really saw the appeal or better, understood them properly, however was later convinced otherwise. She slowly started to realize that unnecessary words, as she would call them, became necessity in certain situations. Especially with people, who behaved irrationally.
There were also moments, when Sol would by a sheer luck of chance, lock her eyes with Min’s who would then gazed her in a signature way, as if she was transparent and saw right trough her mind and soul. Her heart beat faster, mouth becoming drier and as a result became absolutely immobile, until Min cut the tension by a faint smile or simply looking the other way, not paying attention to her wild thoughts, which were so well hidden from her sight. Each time Sol left the store with the lingering feeling mixed with admiration and fear.
***
It was yet another day, but a crucial part in breaking the chain of predictability.
Sol was seated in her usual spot in classroom, consistent in only one task: zoning out on daydreams, until the hours passed and the thrill of the store was once again on the horizon. However the plan unexpectedly sink trough, when she got surprised by her three much neglected friends. They desperately wanted to spend a dinner together and with her perceptive skill, she saw that they weren’t hiding any ulterior motives. All they wanted was a friendly night, something she hadn’t tried out for quite a while. She might’ve gained a strange friendship unknown to others, but it was more one sided at this point and much more unhealthy that she wanted to believe.
Maybe it is time for a change.
With a simple nod in agreement, Sol painted a smile on all three faces almost simultaneously.
The chosen destination was a chain restaurant, that just about anyone could afford, and on the way there they even linked arms together, resembling kids in middle school. The soft giggle expanded to a sincere laughter and this compassionate, understanding, but mostly warm feeling, filled Sol’s body and suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore. The food they were about to eat seemed irrelevant just as did her obsessive walk to the store. The stupidity she left herself to be taken advantage of became ridiculous, and she could only laugh louder. However, with much certainty would this innocent moment run out and turn into disgust, as she painfully knew how much of a pretentious act this was. Yes, this was a rare moment of sheer bliss of simply being alive, believing you don't need anything else – and maybe if you’re lucky in grasping grander meanings, you could also realize you never needed anything, as you already got it all along. But this was also a moment doomed to pass, precisely because it was so rare, so far fetched and distant from the reality of where the things stood. Sol knew this warmth, that she last felt, probably with her mother or father, would certainly perish as suddenly as it came and roughness of life would hit her again. And as always, she was right.
Small talk was put on the throne and other tables were also not immune to it. Everyone wanted to be the center of attention, to feel the power a spotlight does to a human being, while they pretended endlessly to be someone they saw on the television, in magazines or movies. Their stories were exaggerated, twisted and remodeled to fit each situation or group of people perfectly. Many of them thought they were masters in this game, while in reality only a handful skillfully maneuvered trough without their mask falling off. Sol’s friends were the former type and even if they momentarily leaned towards the latter group, she would still accurately saw right trough them.
After a simple meal, they headed back to their homes, still sharing most of the path in unity. It wasn't until they walked a good half of the road, that the bookworm friend reminded Sol she forgot her bag at the restaurant. Slightly irritated, she nevertheless managed to excuse herself in a friendly manner, and go to the restaurant alone. It didn't took her long before she saw the same waitress that served them no more than half an hour ago, waiving with her hand, noting her on the missing item. Behind a counter the waitress pulled out Sol’s sad looking bag that waited patiently for the owner to return. She was then showed a side door that served, at her distance, as a much more convenient alternative to the main exit.
Swinging the door open, a few feet away, a small group of youths gathered in a circle, two of them leaning on the brick wall of the restaurant, and upon closer inspection there, at the very center, a hunched figure rested on the soles of their shoes. All of them took their time in smoking cigarettes and leisurely talking about something she needn’t to know. She passed them with long strides, when she was suddenly grabbed by the wrist and pulled right in the middle of their invisibly marked territory.
Bewildered by the sudden situation she was thrown into, Sol could only mimic outward calmness while internally exhibiting anxiousness. It never occurred to her that in these kinds of settings her gift was totally useless, perhaps even unwanted to possess. She didn't want to know what their voices sounded like, nor their true thoughts that would soon become unbearably noticeable in her head.
‘This could be a nice catch in a long time,’ said one of the guys while leaning in to observe her more closely, ‘what’s your name?’
Sol didn't want to make a sound under any circumstance, so giving her name away was out of the question. All she wanted was to leave – better vanish – from this place and to never face these people again.
‘Maybe she’s deaf,’ said the
guy with long hair, rolling his eyes over to look at his tallest friend.
‘Ah, what a shame,’ the previous guy muttered, sliding his fingers across Sol’s cheek, ‘and with a face like this.’
The air was polluted with irritating laughter and cigarette smoke, both of which she hated the most. Inside of Sol a certain type of heat – one feels, when suppressing an urge to irrationally yell at someone – started to rise.
She turned around to leave however was once again grabbed, this time by the upper arm, while a phone was shoved to her free hand.
‘Here,’ said the one who did the most speaking so far but in an unnaturally slow fashion, truly believing she was deaf. ‘You can write your name down.’
Sol forcefully shook her hand off and pushed the phone at his chest, leaving the young male with no choice but to hold it. The burning sensation wasn't cooling and she knew she had to get away. Otherwise she’ll really get hurt, all because of this uncontrollable anger.
‘Come on, no need to be rude just give us a name- no it can even be a nickname and you can go,’ the guy said while stretching his arm to point at the direction her exit would most likely take place, ‘or would you rather make us name you?’
Glances were quickly shared between them when someone yelled a happy, ‘I love this!’ then another, ‘yeah, lets name her-’
‘No,’ said the hunched guy that finally stood up, griping something tightly in his right palm as he approached Sol, mere inches away from her face. ‘The quiet ones like her, scream the loudest,’ he said, barely containing laughter inside when a proper image of his hidden object made an entrance: a folding knife. ‘You know, I really like laughing when someone is screaming. So how about I make you scream first?’
‘Or you can cut a smile on her pretty mouth and send her straight to hell,’ said another in obnoxious tone of voice, all the while filling his lungs and surrounding air with toxic smoke.
‘Do it!’ enthusiastically exclaimed the other.
‘Don't worry, we’ll visit you,’ the one with the knife confirmed in a slight head nod, ‘heaven’s too far for us anyway.’
Others laughed on this sudden proposal of mutilation of an innocent passer – probably because they already witnessed a dozen cases like this, where someone from their group threatened a weaker member for fun. It was highly possible they never really committed anything worrisome. As they were rather young, most likely even sharing the same generation with Sol. But for some reason experiencing a sight of a knife so close to Sol’s left eye made her calm down. For a brief moment, she slipped into a state were her exterior surrounding perfectly interlinked with her inner mind. It was as if she were in a video game controlling her artificially made soldiers, whose minds were never theirs. Sol exhaled, then out of the blue a complete darkness appeared, shifting the situation around.
Suddenly she grabbed the knife so forcefully, the guy who threatened her less than a minute ago, dropped her hand and watched her, mouth opened. All eyes were focused on her bleeding hand, clenching their jaws in pain as she pulled the knife out of her deeply cut hand and threw it on the ground.
‘What about I make you scream?’ said Sol in an altered voice, like it belonged to someone entirely different, ‘and you’ll see that in hell no one is laughing.’
Heavy silence fell across their faces, seemingly lasting for as long as a minute. Every face was bewildered by these words, including her. It was as if some otherworldly entity entered her body manipulating her action and reaction.
And just like her entire life was at stake, like her final minutes were coming to a closure, Sol ran with everything she got and was, away from the hell she announced a group of strangers would foresee on behalf on revealing her name – which thank god she never did. Maybe god really was on her side this time, like she used to believe or better, was once convinced into believing.
***
When Haven introduced Christianity into her life, her burden, of living up to the expectations of her dead brother, lifted up and somehow the days passed with more ease and calmness. Sol truly, passionately believed in teachings Haven presented her. Oddly enough she never had a desire to read the bible, because she saw Haven as a breathing example of it. She genuinely though this average girl possessed an ounce of eternal light and became infected with it, even though it was a lie. However at that time, before she received the gift, she had no clue about the pretentiousness the world has fallen to since the beginning of time. Somewhere within, she had a sensation, that what she identified with in the external world wasn't her true self, but it never occurred to her, others may also practice the same trick she used as well.
This fragile innocence only children are capable of feeling, before their mind is wrapped into dark cloth of adult perception, was even more pronounced in Sol’s case. She was extremely sensitive to any external stimuli and it was exactly the same about her internal struggles. Her mind would always mull over something, something quite incomprehensible by others, though it never inflated her ego that she just might understand deeper meanings of her inner-self. Humble, patient and understanding approach were always her best bet in dealing with any situation. The only time this apparently didn't work was when she was faced with Haven.
By the time Sol reached her home she was drenched in sweat – arriving at peak of exhaustion. Now her palm was covered in tick blood that started the slow, painful process of recovery. It was stinging and pulsing but she had to clench her teeth in order to disinfect the wound to see how deep she really cut into. Luckily it didn't need stitches, so the option of going to the near by hospital disappeared. All the future would eventually grace her with would be an ugly scar, and that she could live with.
After getting undressed she slipped directly into bed, without bothering about taking a shower or changing into her favorite sleeping attire of oversized flannel shirt. With her healthy hand she grabbed the wounded one and held it close to the heart. Each heartbeat was steady in intensity reminding her that what she just experienced was not illusory but very much grounded in reality she lived in. Strangely enough the youths she meet before didn't disturb her as much as she predicted. What truly shaken her mental stability was the aggression that rose from the depths of her soul. Was there really fire inside of me like Min said, she mulled over, and if that girl possessed a power of foresight, with this being the only possible outcome, then she sure didn't have any clue about who she really was.
CHAPTER THREE
UNRAVELING
It was early Saturday morning when a call from abroad came. Letters on the phone display forming out a name: mother. Sol didn't talk to either of her parents in quite a while now and in all sincerity didn't feel the need to. Nevertheless, she scratched to the surface a rather cheerful sounding voice, for the sake of her mother’s constant worrying.
‘It’s been such a long time since we came to visit,’ said her mother in a warm tone, ‘and considering your birthday is getting closer, we might come to see you. But don't tell your father, you know how he always says I ruin the surprises,’ a soft laughter followed.
‘Thanks for saying this but I can’t even remember the last time I celebrated my birthday,’ Sol genuinely tried to remember what it was like a few years ago.
‘I never liked this new habit of yours, and especially since it’s on a such a lovely day of the year.’
‘I will gladly give my date to you then,’ she retort.
‘Fine, I’ll take that as a no for this year as well,’ a slight playfulness was heard in her mothers voice, which she constantly practiced on her daughter, ‘but next year, you have to promise me we will celebrate it together, okay?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
‘You can even come back home, since you’ll be finished with high school.’
‘You know that is not an option,’ Sol uttered in a quieter, colder manner but then quickly remembered she should never blame her parents for her selfish decision, ‘I’m sorry, mom.’
‘No, don't be.
It was silly of me,’ her mother intuitively sensing this to be an end of discussion about the past they all try to avoid, ‘so tell me, how is the flower shop going?’
‘It’s running as if grandmother was still here.’
‘If you can’t handle the pressure, please let me know and we’ll do something about it. Right now you know you need to focus on school and-’
‘It’s actually going well, one of my close friends sister is working there currently. She is a really nice girl, hardworking too, and knows flowers well, so’, she swallowed hard, caught herself guilty of lying trough the phone, like she was from a calling center trying to sell a product where each side knows it doesn't work. ‘So, we made a deal she’ll help but only until I graduate,’ Sol imagined what would Min do at this moment and for some reason glanced over her still healing wound, ‘I guess I got lucky.’
‘This is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell us sooner,’ mothers excitement made her feel horrible, but she was paralyzed to spill the truth out. ‘I am really proud of you, never forget that.’
‘I know you are, and I am also proud of you,’ curling the fingers into a fist so that a volt of discomfort was sent straight to her brain, labeling her: liar.
‘Thank you dear,’ said mother when the sudden background chatter became audible. ‘Well, I must go back to rehearsals, one of my concerts is coming up in a few days and I’m quite unprepared.’
‘I really doubt that.’
‘It’s true, since you’ve gone away from home, I’ve been kind of lazy with practice,’
‘But piano is in your blood, you can never forget it,’ Sol recalled rare occasions of going to the upper room of this second home, to see the piano covered with dust and regret, never pushing a single key down.
‘Perhaps,’ mother paused heavily after that, probably remembering a greater talent circled in her daughter’s bloodstream but she wouldn't bring it up, not after she saw her explicitly say I will never play it again. music is dead to me.
Sol Page 3