by Asha D.
Arella’s Gold
It is a sky so deeply blue, Sophie feels she is falling upward when she puts her head back and gazes up. Only her arms are bare but all of her feels as light as the clear day. The grass seems uncommonly vivid and swirls silently from time to time, giving away the shy wind’s disguise. In the mini intersection much further down the currently desolate alleyway, a mini streetcar slowly slides its red body past the mini glass storefront with floral designs that remain un- wilted throughout the long winters. Far away from that mini world of patterned everyday motion, a not- so- mini Paul grips each handle behind Sophie’s shoulders.
He funnels in air from the eternal sky and all at once, Sophie’s neck snaps back as she is propelled forward. Her head backs into Paul’s black knit sweater as her golden hair splays out and dissolves into the scenery rushing past her. The air that seconds ago lay dormant as her patchwork quilt in her empty bed, now buffets Sophie as she speeds down the asphalt road alongside the field. Her heart rate shoots up inside of her, eyes widen into awe- struck globes, and hands clamp down onto the armrests of her throttling wheelchair.
Lips parting, the first expressions of glee escape her pure and untouched soul. “DADDYYYYYYYYY…!” Sophie shrieks, with her eyes crinkled at the edges and smile wide as the wings of her joy in that moment. Laughter erupts form her elated face as she holds on for dear life. Paul could not help himself either. He pounds the ground with all the force he can muster, while bouts of precious breath sneaks out of him in boyish giggles.
From an unnoticed spot in the shades, in the opposite side of the glowing field, a surprised passerby freezes in his path as his eyes follow the man racing an exultant child in a wheelchair to the end of the road. It feels like chancing upon a stolen moment in a stolen day. Paul pushes his legs to their utmost possible uncooperative limits, until he is just at the edge of losing control of them entirely.
Too soon, the end of the road is rushing up at them. He locks his elbows in and reverts his weight backward. His legs shuffle intermittently to an uncoordinated gallop before they slow to a jogging pace. The mini intersection that moments ago seemed like a distant portal into common life is now looming over Sophie and her Dad. The shop front with the everlasting floras now reflects a panting man with thinning hair hunched over the wheelchair of a girl. Her bouncing, laughing face could not fail to quietly replace the furrowed expression on the homeless man bundled upon the steps of a dilapidated home, with a forgotten smile that remains unnoticed, but feels unusual. Sophie is gasping for breath through her unending fit of hysterics while Paul gasps for air between his overflowing waves of emotions. Having had to come to grips with the unfairness of it all a long time ago, these bursts of intense affection and protectiveness for his daughter still catch him off guard.
“Aaaaaand once again! It’s Sophie Arella who claims the Gold! And she’s set a whole new world record too! Her peers are powerless in the wake of this new force! Give it up for our Soooophie everybody!” Paul bellows as Sophie does or does not listen while she continues laughing away like a tinkling waterfall.
Later in the evening, Sophie gives Paul a tight little hug, whispers Thanks Daddy, and hides herself underneath the cover of her quilt. Meanwhile, Paul sits beside her with her cherub- like face shimmering in the moist of his loving gaze for a moment as eternal and everlasting as that day’s sky.