Gabrielle’s Magical Notebook

“No, please,” she whispered as the grains of sand slipped through her fingers. “Please, not today.”

The sun jumped in fright and ran for the horizon as a wall of clouds as black as hate tramped across the sky. The white, fluffy clouds that had been playing tag across the blue were trampled into mist and all that blue was swallowed up by darkness.

She crouched on the shore under the baleful gaze of a cold moon shrouded by dark clouds. The warm sand she’d been playing with had gone cold and clammy like sickness and all the pretty, round rocks she’d jumped from were casting dark shadows that reached for her. She looked out at the water that a moment ago had been clear as truth. Now it was black and oily. Instead of lapping at the shore like the start of a game of tag it clawed at the land. As if it were furious, as if it were jealous, as if each and every grain of sand had dealt the lake a hurt it would never forgive.

She wrapped her arms around herself and hugged her sorrow close. Two tears fell from her eyes and traced their forms down her face.

Abby sighed deeply. Just a minute ago she had been close to happy. The day had been going so well and she’d thought that maybe today she could go the entire day without feeling so gray. There was nothing she could point to and say “This is why I suddenly feel like going back home and locking the door.” Nothing that she could explain the sorrow away with. Work was okay. Not great, but then she didn’t expect it to be. The customers had been, well, fine. Not great or spectacular, but this was fast food. She didn’t expect spectacular. A lack of stupidity was the highest she aspired to when it came to the people moving through her line.

Just a minute ago the smile she beamed at them had felt real. Her muscles didn’t scream in agony as she forced them into a smile that didn’t look as grisly as it felt. Her eyes had crinkled at the edges without her having to remind them to. The sun had come out in her life and she had smiled for real.

But now it was gone. The sunshine had seeped away though it was plenty bright outside and her face was hurting again with the strain of keeping that smile in place.

“No,” she whispered somewhere far behind the smile, “Not today. Please. Please. Give me some sun again.”

Her legs ached in the sand. The cold and wet was creeping through her skin and into her bones. She hugged herself, tears long forgotten. There was really no point anymore. She could have filled this lake with her tears and it had never changed anything before. So she just gave herself the hug she wished someone else would provide and felt the despair.

It was cold and hard, but fluid at the same time. It slipped inside and filled up all the nooks and crannies. It smothered, turning laughter to shrieks and the shine to a dirty light bulb in a dank room. It turned the sunshine into a cloudy day that stretched from forever. She knew the despair. She knew it well.

Abby watched herself work. She felt like she’s put her body on autopilot and was in the passenger seat watching. She watched herself take orders. She watched her hands make change and get drinks. She watched herself seem patient to trouble customers. They all thought she was so patient, but she knew better. Frustration, anger, even irritation were all feelings, emotions. She was too tired to care that much.

The tiredness never went away. Abby could sleep a whole day away and still wake up tired. She could spend an evening with her friends laughing at jokes and smiling real smiles, but when they’d gone home and the lights were turned off all the laughter would seep away. Loneliness would come to share the bed with her and it would whisper to her the whole night through. She would wake the next morning with the emptiness and the gray sky pressing her down. She would drag herself to work and then home all the while being so tired, so very, very tired.

Today had started differently. Today she hadn’t had to convince herself to get out of bed. She’s walked to work and noticed the colors. She’d turned her face to the sunshine and she’d smiled, she’d truly smiled. But it was all gone now, sliding through her fingers like sand.

There was a footstep on the beach. She jerked up, startled and frightened. No one but her ever came to this beach; it was as lonely as a birthday spent alone. But now there was a footstep on the beach.

She looked down the beach to see who was coming. Who could be coming to break her solitude? Who would be walking down this sickly shore under the hateful sky?

“Howdy, darlin’! And how are you today?”

Abby had been so busy restocking sauces she hadn’t noticed the man come up to the counter. He standing at the counter beaming at her as if she was his very own creation who’d just learned to walk. Like she was special. Like she was precious.

He was tallish. And very normal looking. At least that’s the best Abby could remember when he’d gone. She couldn’t remember what he’d looked like, but she would remember his smile until long after she was dead. It was big and broad and genuine. It was like he’d brought the sunlight in with him.

She stared at the figure all the way down the beach. She stared as he stood over her and gawked when he sat down and settled himself next to her. She stared even though it hurt her eyes to look at him. She stared even though he seemed only half there, as if his entire presence would burn her eyes away. She stared through new tears forming in her eyes.

He was brilliance itself. He shone like a thousand stars all standing in the same place. He glowed as softly as a firefly and blazed as fiercely as a sun come to earth. His light even seemed to burn the darkness away from the sky, the cold from the sand and the hate from the moon. She sat next to him feeling awkward and dull.

Abby was confused and so fell back on habit. “Um, may I take your order?”

He chuckled like a grandpa with a surprise. “No, darlin’, I’m okay. Actually,” he leaned in closer. She found herself leaning in, too. “Actually, I’ve got something here for you.”

He slapped something down on the counter and pushed it over to her. Her eyes still on his smile Abby picked it up. Then he tipped the hat she hadn’t noticed he was wearing, turned around, and left.

Slowly, the man sitting next to her got to his feet. He offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet when she took it. Carefully, as if she were a bird fragile and scared, he put his arms around her. And he hugged her.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. She’d always known she was this tired; she’d felt it deep in her bones. But no one had ever come to her beach before to break her solitude and let her rest. No one had ventured here to chase the loneliness away and make the fluffy clouds come back. No one before today.

When she opened her eyes again she was alone. But the sun was back. It hung in the sky and blazed with laughter. The sky was bluer than sapphires and a perfect background for the clouds that danced across it. The water was clear once more and reflected the sunshine like polished glass. The sand was warm under and around her feet, warming them through and through.

She spread her arms wide. And smiled.

When the doors closed behind him Abby looked down at what he’d given her. It was a bright yellow sun pin. The sun was full with all its arms stretched out. It was warm, maybe from his hand, but maybe not. Abby pinned it to the front of her shirt. It looked good there, like it suited her somehow. She felt the ache in her muscles and her soul ease as a smile spread across her face.