The magic of the second.., p.2
The Magic of the Second Backyard, page 2
There were flowers too. Mouths of pumpkin-colored snapdragons chatted with hummingbirds; the flowers attached to giant vines wrapped around the white picket fence. Periwinkle-blue daisies, cotton-candy-pink petals, pointy crimson blossoms, and iridescent purple ones lined the fence and deer paths. Bluebells jingled, and Cassidy wondered if they were the wind chimes she heard. There were other flowers that Cassidy didn’t recognize and wished she could name. The whole forest seemed to sing of the beauty of spring.
The owl on the branch was colorful too. While its wings were brown, they were speckled with ivory that caught the sunlight and reflected like diamonds. The owl had a white gold chain around its neck and looked like it was wearing a bathrobe.
“It’s beautiful!”
“So it is.”
“Is this what spring looks like?”
“Well, it’s not really spring.”
“But everything is flowering and green!”
“It’s just the promise of spring. Spring isn’t here yet.”
Cassidy considered this. This was what spring would be like when it came. If what she saw wasn’t the real thing, it must be marvelous to see it with both eyes.
Cassidy looked at the portal again. The swirl of colors hadn’t changed. She closed one eye and then opened both her eyes; the colors didn’t revert to black and white but remained a rainbow of earthy reds, browns, blues, and greens.
“The color doesn’t change from where I came from,” she said.
“You are observant,” said the owl. “But you still have a lot to learn.”
Cassidy closed one eye and smiled at the beauty of Wonderland. She watched a butterfly do three loops and a bee dance with its butt in a flower. But it disappeared in the flutter of an eye. Cassidy had to agree with the owl. She needed to learn why the colors were at her dad’s house first before she could learn how to carry them. She wondered if the internet would know anything about opposite seasons. She decided to go get her tablet.
“I have an idea of where to search,” she said. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Where you are is a good place to reach,” approved the owl. “I’ll be here.”
Cassidy jutted her chin at the owl’s statement and shook her head in confusion. She didn’t know what the owl meant so she waved and nestled her neck into her sweatshirt. Then Cassidy stepped back through the portal.
New and Lonely Normal
Cassidy opened her eyes like blinking after a camera flash. She looked at her hands and saw the tinge of honey and pink of her skin tone. She was back in her world, her dad’s world. She leaned over, her hair falling to the side, and looked straight through the barbed wire fence. There was no white snow or white picket fence. There was no portal.
“Cassidy! Where are you?” Her dad’s voice trailed in the evening air from where he was standing at the back door. He sounded annoyed, not worried. It wasn’t sweet-sounding like wind chimes music. He shouted again, “What are you doing? Get inside!”
I guess he’s done with work for the day and finally noticed I was gone. He was working from home and was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. Cassidy knew her dad couldn’t see her from the house, and she had a feeling he wasn’t going to come to look for her.
Cassidy crossed her arms and tried applying the magical lens to the chilling forest. She closed one eye and looked around, but the crunchy bed of pine needles didn’t leap up into colorful ballerina tutus. Instead, the icy sky seemed to shiver with the sun as it said its last goodbye and waned behind the Rocky Mountains. It was getting cold. Cassidy stomped her feet to keep warm, but the cold blew straight through her sweatshirt.
Cassidy trudged to where the trees met the open valley. In front of her was the wild field of her dad’s Colorado property, surrounded by a fence border. She looked out on the plains like she was looking out into the ocean, but it wasn’t the same. The ocean waves were always headed to shore. Here the plains looked like they went on forever until they met a wall of mountains in the distance. The purple mountains seemed to push her away. They kept looking up, reaching for the sky away from her instead of towards her. The tops were hidden by clouds and blanketed in white, towering formidably over the foothills. Even the foothills dwarfed the valley landscape, their forever dark green spilling into the rolling fields of amber. She felt like she was in the middle of nowhere, a wilderness. She avoided her dad for as long as she could, but she finally caved and went inside.
As she walked into the kitchen, she smelled microwaved chicken tenders. She knew they would taste rubbery and floppy. Her dad sat at the square table, hunched over his tablet like a squirrel with a persistent seed. He looked up when she came in.
“You shouldn’t be out in the woods alone like that,” he said.
“Why not?”
“There’s barbed wire and other old stuff that aren’t toys back there. Better if you stay away than come crying to me when you get hurt.” He looked back at his tablet showing the news. Cassidy ignored his warning in the same way he ignored her.
Cassidy bit into a chicken piece and the crust fell off without chewing. They sat there like it was normal. Cassidy wanted him to pay attention to her.
“So do you know when the funeral is?” her dad asked, his eyes fluttering to hers briefly before darting down to his tablet again. Cassidy stopped chewing momentarily in shock at his choice of conversation. Wouldn’t he know about the funeral plans as much as she? She didn’t want to talk about cremation or sad relatives.
“No,” was all she chose to say and pretended to distract herself by eating.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Cassidy swallowed. “No,” she said again, certain with her answer. Not with you.
Cassidy angrily chewed her dinner, the space between them becoming more and more uncomfortable. She never felt at home at her dad’s house. She had to break the silence.
“Dad, is there anything green to go with these chicken things? Mom says your plate should always have three colors.”
Cassidy flounced to resituate in her chair with a flair that made her hair fluff out and settle again behind her shoulders.
“I’ve got a can of green beans somewhere in the basement,” he said with a wrinkled nose. “But I haven’t opened it for a good reason.”
“Mom and I eat lots of green things,” Cassidy reprimanded. “After school, we make these kale chips that crunch like potato chips.” When her dad didn’t reply, she went on. “We pretend the kale is seaweed, and we lie on our backs on the blue rug at our house and eat them like otters.” Cassidy mimicked an otter’s paws, holding one imaginary crinkling chip in both hands, nibbling it. “Oh! Can we go to the zoo? I haven’t been to the Colorado zoo before.”
“No, Cassie,” her dad said sadly. “There’s a lot going on at work for me. I can’t afford to take time off just to go to the zoo.”
“I wish I had friends nearby,” Cassidy complained. “Vanessa and Avril, one of their parents would take us.”
“Well, hopefully you won’t be here long enough to need new friends,” he confirmed.
“Yeah,” Cassidy mumbled under her breath. “I’m here just for Spring Break.”
“And if it’s longer than that, you can go to school remotely until you go back to live with your mom. Then I’m sure she’ll take you to see all the sea lions you want.”
“Otters,” corrected Cassidy.
“Animals smell,” said her older brother, Oscar, as he entered the kitchen. He was wearing gym shorts and had unwashed hair. He smelled like he came from the microwave, too. He opened the cupboard and took down the box of Cheez-its. Oscar looks like he belongs in a zoo. Cassidy giggled to herself, but she didn’t dare say it aloud. This was her first time seeing him since only her dad had picked her up at the airport. Cassidy wanted to be friendly.
“Will you take me to the zoo, Oscar?” she asked.
“Nah,” he said, rustling the packaging and throwing crackers into his mouth. “But you can watch the giraffe giving birth on YouTube though.”
“I don’t want to watch it on TV,” complained Cassidy. “I want to feed the giraffes and watch the otters up close from an underwater window. Wouldn’t it be cool if we had a pet otter? Then we could go swimming with it.”
Oscar gave her a know-it-all look and said, “Colorado isn’t near the ocean. We can’t have otters here.”
“We’re not getting any pets. Pets require time and attention beyond just Spring Break you know,” their dad stated the obvious. Oscar gave her a sideways look that meant he was bored trying to get attention. He left the kitchen with the box of crackers. Cassidy wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“There isn’t even a house plant here,” Cassidy said, giving herself an idea. If she didn’t get along with her dad, maybe she could change that for one day. Cassidy chewed her lip, trying to gain determination instead of anger. She wanted to go to the garden center like she usually did with her mom for Spring Break. And perhaps if she could convince her dad to take her, he wouldn’t be so bad.
“Dad? How about the garden center?” she asked. “Can we go there?”
“It’s late, Cassie,” he replied, but he was looking for excuses, Cassidy could tell.
“Tomorrow, I mean,” Cassidy said and clasped her hands like a prayer. “Please?”
“No, Cassie.” Her dad looked annoyed. “I have to work tomorrow. And the next day. I don’t get Spring Break off like you do.”
“But Dad! When I’m at home with Mom, we always go to the garden center for Spring Break. We pick out new seeds every year. And we get special starter moss that helps the seeds take root before we put them in the bigger pots.”
“There isn’t anywhere to put any plants,” her dad said. He was looking for excuses, Cassidy could tell.
“Well, we can get some pots! Mom showed me how to—“
“Not right now, Cassie,” her dad interrupted.
“But Dad!”
“Watch some TV or something,” he said and swigged the last of his beer. “Well, early to bed, early to rise.” He left for his own room with his own TV, leaving Cassidy alone again in the dark kitchen.
She almost cried into her plate of a microwaved dinner. She wished she could go to her friend Avril’s house and have pineapple upside-down cake. Or to her friend Vanessa who had a trampoline in the backyard. But instead, she was stuck here.
The loneliness of the empty, cold kitchen was strong enough for her to miss even her grandparents who didn’t do much other than smile at her splashing by herself in their swimming pool. She wondered if this was how her grandmother felt when her grandfather died. Cassidy had overheard that people with broken hearts felt helplessly alone even with other people nearby. She didn’t want to think about it anymore because she didn’t want to cry by herself.
Cassidy attempted to distract herself by watching a video about string beans. They grew on vines that wrapped around wire trellises, twisting around the metal and turning green. Cassidy sighed. She missed her mom’s terracotta apartment. Until last week, it always had fresh-cut flowers on the table. Until last week, the small balcony was filled with hanging baskets of ferns and clay pots of orchids. Until last week, Cassidy was looking forward to Spring Break and readying the apartment garden for seeds of cherry tomatoes, sweet peppers, and lettuce.
I want to be back home! MY home!
The Deserted Greenhouse
Cassidy woke up early because the bed was uncomfortable. It wasn’t even her bed; it was the guest bed in the guest room. The room was painted gray, and there was a chest of drawers twice the size anyone visiting would need. Cassidy’s clothes only took up the bottom three drawers. The closet was full, though. The coats, snowsuits, and boots she wore last time she was here were still hanging in the closet. She didn’t need them in Florida and didn’t want to carry them back and forth. So, they stayed here, shoved in the back behind extra empty hangers. The bottom of the closet had pillows and blankets neatly stacked in vacuum-sealed bags. It was a guest room because it was meant for guests who wouldn’t stay long. Cassidy hoped she wouldn’t have to stay long.
There wasn’t any morning light on this side of the house, making Cassidy hate her dad’s home even more. It was dark, cold, and dry here in Colorado. She didn’t know why anyone would want to live here. The last time she was here was over a year ago. Her mom said it was only fair to split Christmases, and so Cassidy had to spend the Christmas before last with her dad. And it hadn’t even snowed, Cassidy remembered. What was the point of putting up with freezing temperatures when there is no sledding or snowman-making?
As she got dressed in a navy blue boatneck long-sleeve shirt with ruffled accents along the top, Cassidy remembered the white robin wearing funny clothes. Was it going to a party, is that what she was early for? A party in Wonderland sounded fun. She hadn’t found anything colorful and if she was honest, the dull brown of her dad’s house was worse than the white of Wonderland. She decided to find the portal again and hang out with her new woodland friends.
She tiptoed into the hallway, listening first. She heard a shuddering sound as the electric heaters in the back of her room squeaked to life. She could smell the remnants of strong coffee trailing from the kitchen to her dad’s office. Beyond his closed door and at the end of the hall was her brother’s room. It was still dark under his door. Was he still asleep? Her own heartbeat thrummed with the quiet house. She sneaked out the front door.
Cassidy shuddered from the persistent brisk Colorado breeze. The wind stirred up the dirt and blew Cassidy’s hair into her mouth and dead seed pods into her eyes. She missed Florida with its seagulls that drifted on warm breezes and tropical flowers with brilliant reds, golds, and blues. Colorado didn’t have any of those colors.
In front of her was a vast expanse of mottled brown and simmering yellow. The dead plains surrounding the house felt like a moat, separating it from the forest oasis. The wooden fence was nicely kept along the driveway, and Cassidy took the long way around the entire perimeter, looking for grasshoppers even though it was too early in the season. The tall grasses broke and fell as she crushed them under her boots. One, two, three, four… she counted the wooden fence posts as she walked. There wasn’t anything else to see for miles. The further she got from the house, the more weathered, split, and cracked the fence posts got from being baked in the sun and frozen in the winter. She followed thirty-six fence posts along the driveway to the road. A 90-degree turn and then Cassidy counted six more fence posts before the round wooden horizontal rails switched to barbed wire strings. The dead grasses were shorter here, crawling along the ground and twisting around themselves in vines. Cassidy walked to another corner post at the furthest end. She turned again, poised toward the forest in the distance.
Cassidy suddenly sprinted across the golden plains. The fence posts dotted past her vision like telephone poles rushing past in the car. Faster and faster, she pumped her arms until she reached the pine trees. “Beat ya,” she whispered to no one. She was warm now, her blood coursing and her lungs working in big breaths. She grabbed a few twigs on the ground, holding them like a wand in each hand. Cassidy tapped them against some of the tree trunks like a xylophone.
“Where’s Wonderland?” she asked the forest aloud. “And where’s that robin to show me the way to the portal?”
Cassidy followed the fence as the wilderness gradually overtook it. The wooden posts were worn from age, and the barbed wire knotted in a few places, overlapping and tying into a mess of pointy thorns. But then, the rails turned wooden again as they looped back out into the plains and her dad’s house. She must have missed it! Cassidy hadn’t seen a portal, so she backtracked. She went to the barbed wire section deep in the forest and this time noticed a small metal gate that she had missed before.
“I wonder where this goes!” Cassidy flipped the latch, but the gate’s hinges were broken and the corner was buried in thick mud. Cassidy climbed over the top instead. On the other side, the weeds and brambles had overtaken any remnants of a path. Cassidy couldn’t figure out why there was a gate if it didn’t lead anywhere.
The mystery led her imagination and her feet as Cassidy explored the second backyard. One foot in front of the other, Cassidy wondered if forest fairies lived here. Did forest fairies have houses like garden fairies? She and her mom had made fairy houses for their garden. Her mom said fairies brought good luck and warded off nasty insects and diseases. New plants needed all the help and magic they could get to grow bigger. Their fairy houses back home were made from slices of tree trunks, cut in half to look like a hobbit house. They had painted little rocks pink, purple, and blue and hot glued them together in stacks for chimneys. They added beads for doorknobs and painted outlines for doors and windows. The tiny houses made the apartment garden bright and colorful while the seedlings took root. Then, as time went on, the houses were lost in the large leaves of the plants. It was hard to spot the painted doors when the plants started bearing fruit like cherry tomatoes. One year, Cassidy laughed about finding a cherry tomato that had bounced off the roof of one of the fairy houses and rolled to stop in front of the door. What a surprise it would be to open the front door to a tomato the size of a car!
Distracted by her hunt for fairy houses, Cassidy stopped when she discovered an area where the frozen earth was matted with pebbles, dirt, and parted grass. Maybe there was a reason for the gate and this path would lead her to it.
The unpredictable trail led Cassidy around trees and over rocks. She heard a few bird songs high in the trees from chickadees and nuthatches. Then a few squawks from larger jay birds and magpies echoed like angry voices carrying in the dry air.
