A Tulip Corsage
He met her next to a lake his father took him to. It was hot and humid, and he desperately wanted to go for a swim. His father taught him how to swim here. His father had also disappeared in it.
He jumped into the lake. The cold water rippled across his skin, making his hair stand up. From underneath, he noticed a shimmering shade of red at the edge of the lake. As he rose, he noticed a girl around his age standing on a rock anchored onto the edge of the water. She wore a long red dress with maroon sunglasses and a sunhat with a ring of violets attached on top. Wrapped around her wrist was a tulip corsage.
“Are you going for a swim?”
“No, I’m enjoying this rock.” She pulled her dress closer and sat down. He wanted to speak with her. She carried a profound gentleness in her movements that piqued his interest.
“Is this your first time here?” he asked.
“Nope. I came often with my mum when I was younger. It’s been a while. I never see people here though.”
She was curious about the boy. He was the only person beside her mother she had seen swim in these waters. Her mother spoke of a boy she knew when she was younger who stumbled upon the river with her. She had taught him how to swim. As far as the girl knew, her mother’s friend was the only other person who had ever come to the lake.
“My dad first came here with a girl. They were sixteen at the time. I don’t think he ever moved on.” The boy was sitting on a blanket the girl had set. She took out a sandwich from a picnic basket she brought along with her.
“Here. It’s an avocado-brie sandwich. Mum used to bring it whenever we came here. I carry on the tradition, I guess.”
“Carry on? Your mum —”
“She left. I don’t really know where she went. Or if she’s even alive. Just that one day she disappeared and never bothered returning.”
The girl watched a butterfly glide by. It looked strangely euphoric to her. Its colors meshed into a blur as it batted its wings. She thought of how the butterfly was nothing but a cocoon at first. And now, freedom colored its wings. It flew around so colorfully. She wished her mother had found that freedom. Wherever she was, the girl hoped she had found color.
“My father spoke of the girl all the time. At times, I wondered if he ever truly loved my mother. After my mum passed, he became silent. He’d rarely talk or move, but when he did, it would be here. And he’d only ever talk about that woman. He loved swimming and she was the one who taught him how to swim.”
The girl felt a drop of water fall on her. She looked up to see gray clouds covering the sun. The sky seemed to be crying, ever so quietly.
“I was with father when he passed. He went to sleep on a little raft he made in the middle of the lake. He wanted to sleep on the lake I guess. Maybe he knew what was coming.”
“Do you still use the raft?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes, I take the raft to the middle of the lake like he used to and just sit there. There’s something beautiful about being in the middle of nothing and everything at once.”
“Do you want to go to the middle of the lake?” The girl nodded. The boy walked over to a small bush next to a patch of tulips. He lifted a large wooden raft and dragged it across the grass. As she sat on the raft, the boy begin pushing it onto the water. He pushed the raft as he swam. Slowly, they reached the middle.
The girl looked around. Although the sun no longer shed its light onto the lake, everything around it looked magical. Colorful.
“My mom used to say that too. She loved the colors of the flowers and trees reflected off the water. That’s why she made this hat. Apparently, it was how she saw the violets from the reflection. Ringed together in a blur of violet.”
“Is that how she perceived tulips too?” the boy chuckled, glancing at the girl’s corsage.
“Yes. But she didn’t make this. The boy she came here with made it for her. She saved it. And here it is now.”
The boy stayed silent. He looked at the drizzling raindrops falling into the lake. The water only rippled. No splashes. It was as if the lake was happy. Happy enough to let the sky continue crying on it without it crying as well. He looked at the girl and for the first time, she looked familiar. He’d seen her before. In a picture his father always carried. A picture of him and the girl who taught him how to swim.
“Funny. Tulips were my father’s favorite.”
