It was the first thing she saw, the only thing standing on the beach as she walked through the yellow weeds. “These flowers belong to the species of Aster.” Lemon thought to herself. But she did not know the actual name. She probably wouldn’t find it out either.
There was a French window in her room, looking out to the sea. Hers was the Red Room, for it was on the red side of the building.
The room opposite – there were only two rooms in the 9 Legs – was the Black room; again, so named for it was on the black side of this lighthouse. A single mother occupied the Black Room with her two children, a boy and a girl. They could not be more than ten years of age, thought Lemon to herself. The neighbour did not seem to have the intention of making her acquaintance, nevertheless, she was pleasantly polite when they passed each other on the stairs.
It was never confirmed to Lemon how accurate it would be to judge the period she arrived at by the costumes of the people she met. Therefore, Lemon would have to decide for herself. Both children were dressed in Edwardian fashion, the girl in a white lacy dress with black stockings and the boy, a sailor suit. Their clothes were made from fine fabric and the finishing was of a high standard. It would be the work of an experienced and sophisticated tailor who took pride in his profession. However, any kind of delicate needlework could not disguise the signs of wear or the faded colour from repeated usage.
It was very likely to be the early twentieth century then. Lemon considered the credibility of her judgement, but quickly, she had moved onto another query, “Why would a woman of high social ranking come here and live without valuable belongings?”
It was a highly legitimate line of questioning that would shed more light into Lemon’s domain, but it was not in her nature to think a thing through. Rather, leaving the question hanging made it all the more amusing, as unsolved mystery offer more thrills.
Returning one day, Lemon noticed the children looking out from the Red Room. Their mother sat quietly in the background. The girl, who was the younger of the two, occasionally licked the toffee in her hand, otherwise, there were no other actions to be observed from this family.
Their eyes stared out vacantly into the distance, or ad infinitum, one might say, for there was nothing beyond the horizon. The seagulls, the sunset or individuals dotted along the beach did not stir them in the slightest. They would not have noticed Lemon either, it was assumed.
By then, Lemon’s attention had drifted away, seized by a minor abnormality. For the sand across which she had trudged never registered a shoe print of hers. Nor did it capture any trace of other wonders. It was as if this space did not intend to arrest any evidence of a visit by any creature, living or dead.
Lemon pushed a message through the door to the inhabitants of the Black Room. “The children are always welcome to the Red Room. Maybe we can have a small gathering as well.”
The single mother replied the next morning when Lemon was out, sending her gratitude without promising any definitive interaction. That night, Lemon looked at the moon alone.
Soon after, there came a visitor to the single mother.
Lemon caught her talking leisurely with a young woman on a picnic bench. This young woman wore a full safari suit and came on a bicycle. She was free-spirited and enthusiastic and brought sunshine to this place. If it were not for her unmatched sandal she would be such a perfect cliché. Lemon gave a sneer that was not considered professional. She did not realise at the time.
Lemon sensed that they were talking about education. The safari-suited woman was trying to engage the single mother in starting a school, replicating the experimental work she had carried out in the place for which she had recently returned. The single mother listened intently, occasionally sharing one or two of her thoughts. It was unfortunate, thought Lemon, that she talked in such a discreet way that is was too challenging to decipher. Otherwise, the single mother drank her lemonade from a straw and was content to let the other woman enthuse her passion out onto the world.
Lemon was very tempted to join their company, for she considered herself useful in contributing ideas on educational matters. But it was clear to her that these two independent young women did not want to be disturbed.
As such, Lemon went back to her room and looked out at the moon for another night. The idea of inviting the children around did not cross her mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment