Memory Lane septembrie 4, 2007

“Granny, granny! Look!” little Flora yelled as she quickly entered the house. She then handed her grandmother the piece of paper that the teacher had proudly marked with an “A”.
Granny kissed both her cheeks as she usually did when that wonderful child brought another ray of happiness into her gloomy old age. Sylvia got up and put it away in her night table’s drawer, where she kept all of her precious belongings: photos, diplomas, letters, and her most valuable asset: a framed photograph of her departed daughter, Sara, who also was Flora’s mother. Sara had died giving birth to Flora, sacrificing herself so that her child could live. Thus, Flora was an orphan, as her father passed away after having suffered a car accident, even before he had the chance to find out that his fiancée was pregnant.
Flora looked so much as her father, although she had her mother’s hazel eyes and her beautiful brown hair. Right after she was born Sylvia could not even bare to take a glance at the child as she reminded her too much of Sara, whose death she had not even had the chance to properly mourn. She gave her to a wet nurse with the instruction to keep the baby away from her. Sara’s death, her ultimate sacrifice had been beyond her comprehension until one day. Sylvia had a look inside the baby’s crib to find a big pumpkin head that was not yet covered with hair, and a big grin upon the little one’s face. Sylvia took her into her arms and she cuddled to her chest. When Flora started playing with her locks she then found in her eyes the same spark that Sara had when she was a baby. She had never lost her spark, until that accident… Little Flora felt asleep as her grandmother sang the only lullaby she knew. After that, Sylvia became the only mother Flora had ever known.
Sylvia had been keeping the picture hidden because it was hard for her to talk about her daughter, although her memory lived on through Flora. She peered at the photo as she didn’t have her glasses on and remembered of those two women so familiar to her that were standing on a bench on a deserted beach which name she could not remember. One of them was an eighteen-year-old Sara and the other one was a much younger Sylvia, without wrinkles and dark rings that she had to burden after her death. She burst out into tears, but wiped them off when Flora came rushing into the room.
“Granny, you forgot your cookies in the oven! Should I go get them?” she asked very politely.
“No dear, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to get burns on your hands.” Sylvia explained.
After her grandmother left the room, Flora accidentally saw the framed picture. At first, she didn’t recognize the two women, but when she spotted the necklace that she had worn ever since she could remember; she realized that it must have belonged to her mother before her and that the woman standing next to her is her grandmother. She gently put the frame back where she’d found it. But in that drawer she saw another thing that caught her attention: a little notebook on which was written with golden letters: “Sara”.  Flora knew that was her mother’s name and she took the notebook and ran with it to her room before her grandmother came into the room. She kept it hidden for a while, but when she got fed up with waiting, one night, after Sylvia went to sleep, she opened it and began reading its pages. She realized it was a diary and that it wasn’t Sara’s first one, because every girl who starts writing in a journal, always begins by saying she never did. There were also smiling faces drawn here and there…

1st October

                 Dear Diary,

It’s a cold day and I’m having such a great time at school that no one, not even grouchy professor Wilkins can take that away from me.
This second year of high school began with something more than a tragedy: Ms. Nancy Fisher, our principal had resigned her desk, but the worst part is that Mr. Cranberry, the meanest professor that I have ever seen, has taken her place. I just hope that he won’t take advantage of his position to give me more detention classes than usual.
There have been some modifications to our class as well: as Julia had left town, there was an empty spot that was quickly filled in by a boy named William Ormond. I thought him to be a little bit anxious to see his new classmates, but when I tried to show him the way to our classroom he said rudely or so I was under the impression: “I can find it by myself, thank you!” .What bugged me a lot was when Jenny, my best friend thought him to be cute. I don’t disagree, but with that attitude he may as well stay away from her or me for that matter! When I got really angry was when he refused to be my desk mate when our head teacher told him so. “I’m sorry, but I rather have my own desk” he said and took a seat right in front of me. I wish he had seen those angry looks that I gave him in our English classes!
But not taking into consideration that rude boy, I had a wonderful time! All my classmates were round up in a circle, and everyone told how they have spent their school break. There were funny stories, and there were sad ones, but most shocking was that Christopher went to jail for a week because he broke into a flat too see his girlfriend, but when her parents saw them cuddling, they called the police. The father took care that the criminal should stay under the police custody until he admitted that he had broken in without his daughter’s consent. I guess that they were in the stage of denial that their so-called “angel” had a boyfriend. It’s sad to see these kind of parents though.
Talking about parents, my mother and I are getting along quite fine since our serious talk about “boys”. I reassured her that it wasn’t a matter on which she should feel insecure about me and apparently she believed me, but I think it’s not nice to go through somebody’s stuff and deny doing that! I saw her with my own eyes that she looked under my mattress for this diary, but I have hidden it so well that not even England’s best spy can find it.
Well, I’m getting really tired writing so I’m going to sleep, but not before I say “Good night, dear diary!”

She closed the diary because she was also feeling tired and wanted to go to sleep. She didn’t want Sylvia to find out that she took the notebook from her drawer, so she kept it hidden between her own notebooks. She was sure nobody would look for it there.
Everyday Flora read from that diary one day of her mother’s life at a time. That notebook revealed feelings, emotions that have been kept hidden under the walls of those pages for years, until she set them loose. Even though she hadn’t written every single day of her life in that diary, Flora made out that her mother’s life was a little bit boring, and Sara herself had admitted that:

18th November

       Dear Diary,

I’m really getting tired of this kind of weather: rainy, cloudy, a little foggy, but worst of all is the atmosphere these elements create. It’s depressing having to see every single day umbrellas over each people’s head, that chill that becomes a part of you, the once-broken bones that hurt you everyday. I once heard a joke about the English people: “The English must have grown gills to stand the weather!”. Back then I thought it was really funny, but now I can see that reality isn’t to be laughed at.
Another school day has passed without ending up in detention classroom. It is uncommon for Mr. Cranberry to forget about detentions, but since he has taken his place as the principal of the school, I haven’t quite seen a lot of him, not that I am too displeased with that! Last time I caught a glimpse of him, he was looking very pale and didn’t even stop to criticize my lack of decency for wearing make-up. Back in the days that was unheard of!
I sure wish Jenny were here. It’s so boring without her! Even school has become monotonous and dull. I never thought I would miss her and her big mouth. She better bring me something back from Paris or else!
I completely forgot! That William, the new guy, as we all like to call him, outwitted me today in a ten-minute test that Mrs. Gretchen had been preparing for a while now! I got an “A”, whereas he got an “A+”. It is unbelievable that someone could remember with such accuracy all the events that took place in 1492. It was the hardest question despite having only four answers. How should I know about the Ensisheim meteorite that crashed in Alsace?! He probably thinks he’s so smart! I’ll show him tomorrow in French class! The war has moved to another front: school.
Good night, dear diary! I’ll keep you informed!

19th November

Dear Diary,

I just can’t take it anymore! That William is driving me crazy! Why does he have to be so sweet? I must admit he has something that reminds me of a famous actor, but I can’t put my finger on it! Today, he saw I was feeling a bit down and tried to reach out to me, but I didn’t let him! So what if he’s smarter than I am? Tomorrow I’m going to apologise to him and try to get to know each other better. I’m sure he’s not as bad as I first thought he would be. It’s just that my pride got stepped on when he got better grades than I did. Now all the girls like him and try to convince him to tutor them. I personally feel relieved that they don’t come to me anymore to do their homework.
There are only two weeks left until the masked ball organized to celebrate our first victory in the High School’s Championship against Leeds’s rugby team. Everyone is sure that I will be the Queen this year, but I’m not that confident. Even so, I wonder who the King will be.
I still miss her…And still not a word from her…

22nd November

Dear Diary,

You won’t believe what I have been up to these past few days! I have been spending some hours after classes with William…and yes, he’s the same William that I have been telling you about. He’s so different than I expected him to be. After finishing my unreserved apology, he told me that he also wanted to say he was sorry about not taking my advice, but didn’t have the nerve to do it before. That happened the day before yesterday.
Today, after spending a couple of hours strolling along the narrow alleys in the park, he asked me to go to the Ball with him! I was so nervous that I postponed telling him “yes” until tomorrow. Oh, what should I do? I have been receiving invitations from many boys, but I don’t really wish to go with someone I hardly even know. But William is different. I got to know a little bit better, but I still don’t think that’s enough. He’s mysterious in a way, but when he gets the chance, he overwhelms me with childhood stories and gives me the impression that I have known him for quite a while. He’s so charming when he gazes at the moving clouds!
Tomorrow I’ll agree to go to the ball with him. Gosh! I forgot all about the dress! But I’m sure mum will take care of that. She always picks the nicest dress for me.
If Jenny’s parents don’t come back from Paris in time for the Ball, I’m afraid she’ll miss my being crowned as Queen. Even William thinks I’m going to be the lucky one! Oh, but here I am talking about him…again. If she was here she would say I have a crush on him. She would probably be right.
Well, I must be on my way to Never-Never land. Night! Talk to you tomorrow!

The little girl was amazed and amused at the same time by her mother’s character. She thought it might have been very hard for Sara to keep a diary because she couldn’t understand how somebody can be so patient. Although brighter than most children her age, Flora quickly lost interest in something after a brief period of time. Even if she couldn’t understand every word that she read in Sara’s diary, her curiosity was far too big for her to let go of it. She read it quietly each night not to wake Sylvia up, for she didn’t want her to know that her grand-daughter had stolen the notebook from her drawer. The next page in Sara’s life was very short and hard to read for it had been drowned in tears.

23rd November

Dear Diary,

Right before I had the chance to tell him my answer I saw him kissing a girl! What was I thinking? I was about to agree to go to the ball with him. I thought he liked me…but I guess I was wrong.

3rd December

Dear Diary,

I have been so distant to you this past week. It may be because I was too tired to talk to you after school. Even though the clock shows five in the morning, I’m too overwhelmed by all the things that have happened today to go to sleep.
Today, or the other day as it is now, I went to the Ball with David, the Captain of the rugby team that has a crush on me since last year. As everyone had expected I was crowned the Queen, but guess who my King was? No, it wasn’t David if that’s who you were thinking of. It was none other than … dear William, whom I hadn’t spoken to since that last incident, although he tried many times to explain himself.
We danced together, and it all seamed so right, but wrong at the same time. You won’t believe what happened next! After the dance, he caught me by the arm, and took me to the fountain in the schoolyard as I fiercely struggled to set myself free.
“As you didn’t want to hear my explanation, nor my apology, I am forced to do this” he said and suddenly kissed me. I didn’t fight back although I could have. He confessed that he didn’t kiss that girl voluntarily but what I have witnessed was her forcing him. I believed and forgave him. We spent about an hour embraced, lying on the grass, keeping ourselves warm from the chill. That was until David found us, and got into a fight with Will. Mr. Cranberry was so repulsed by this criminal act that he demoted David from his Captain status, and expelled William for a whole week. “This institution shall not permit such behaviour of hooligans! That I assure you of!” he barked and put an end to the Ball.
I am so happy, although I’m being a bit selfish not regarding William’s difficulty. Mum was so pleased to hear of such bravery from Will, that she approved our relationship.
I think I forgot to tell you about Jenny. She’s not coming back from Paris. She was never planning on returning, but she gave me false hopes so that our parting would be less painful.
I will never forget this day, how happy or how sad I am all together…

Flora was in tears by the end of the last line. She put down the notebook and started crying out loud. Sylvia came barging in, thinking that her little angel might have been hurt. Flora then told her grandmother about stealing the notebook and reading it without her permission.
“You didn’t need my permission to know about your own mother, sweetie.” she said wiping the tears off her blushing cheeks. “You want to know what happened after that night?” she asked and after Flora’s nod of approval she began telling the rest of the story: “After that day forward they were inseparable. After graduating, these nineteen year old were already engaged. I remember he proposed to her on the London Bridge, because she has a photo taken there on the same day. They went to different Colleges. He was studying to be a teacher, and she wanted to be a lawyer. William was in his second year of College when he had that awful accident. Sara never was the same again. Her one smile or laughter was when she gave birth to you. The doctors couldn’t figure out exactly why she died after your birth, but they suspected a post-delivery syndrome that affected her already weakened body.” Sylvia stopped to wipe her own tears.
The next day, on that same bridge on which a young woman named Sara and her beloved William had once promised eternal love for one another, a poor little orphan girl was throwing a white rose off the bridge. “Hope mummy sees it!” she whispered to herself as the wind carried the rose and sank it in the cold waters of unforgotten memories.