"The Tree" Pt. 1

January 2, 2010
By , Pryor, OK
I sat across from my mother. The white washed hospital room seemed like a prison, a room I couldn’t escape out of. Of course, I could leave if I wanted too. But I didn’t. My mom was checked in four days ago, with a lifelong heart condition, that my mom was never aware of. The news the doctor gave me was she wouldn’t last long, two weeks, was the maximum time limit he gave her. “Miracles can happen, though.” That’s how he tried to cheer me up.

Once she was checked in, I never left her side. I hardly slept, my mind just replayed through my birthday parties, sad times, and happy times. My dad came often, but he was still able to work. Since I now practically lived at the hospital, it was my job to keep my mother happy. I asked my mom if she wanted me to do anything for her. Her reply was that she wanted me to go to her house, and get her old diary. Like any good daughter, I did as I was told.

The diary was old, worn at the spine, and the pages were yellowing. The front was purple, with pink designs, flowers and roses decorated the back. I sat down in a chair next to my mom, and flipped it open to the first page, do NOT read, owned by Anne Roberts. It didn’t have dates on it, but months. Not having dates irritated me, but I quickly got over it.

I started to read.

March 4th

“I was running through the grass, faster, I thought to myself, I have to run faster. Kenny was somewhere behind me. And he would find me soon. I finally saw the big, old oak tree that stood in the center of the pasture. It reminded me of a statue, a statue that sometimes moved with the breeze. “Gotcha!” Just as I heard this I felt the slap of a hand on my shoulder.

“Ouch, Kenny, that really hurt!” I screamed, and little tears were growing in the corner of my eyes.

“Oops! Sorry, Anne.” Kenny apologized.

I sniffed, “it’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

“Anne! Can you come here for a second?” I heard my mother’s voice, and raced back up to my house.

I walked into my kitchen, and my mom was there, make yummy treats for my birthday party. Ants on a log, was my favorite. I loved peanut and celery, and raisons! “Do you want one?” My mom smiled, and handed my one ant on a log.

“I love peanut butter!” I said, but it sounded all mumbled since I had sticky peanut butter in my mouth.

“I know,” My mom laughed “Okay, grab the platter of ants on a log, and bring them outside. The rest of your guest will arrive soon. Scoot!”

“Okay.” I grabbed the platter of ants on a log, and walked them outside to the picnic table set up under the oak tree.

The rest of my guest showed up. They all brought presents lavishly decorated with huge bows and elegantly curled ribbons. Finally, when everyone arrived, my mom brought out my birthday cake. It was a chocolate cake, with white icing, with orange flowers in the top left corner. There were ten candles place in the center. My mom lit them all. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Anne, Happy birthday to you.” I blew as hard as I could on my candles.

A little girl, with blonde pigtails, walked over and sat down next to me. “Hi, I’m Lucy.” The little blonde girl said.

“Hi, Lucy, I’m Anne. You want a piece of cake?” I handed her a big slice, with the orange flowers on it, the piece I wanted to eat.

“Thank you, Anne.” Lucy cracked a smile.

“Oh, Anne, I see you’ve met Lucy. Lucy is the daughter of a man I work with. I hope it’s okay that I invited Lucy.” My mother said.

“Of course, Mama.” I smiled at Lucy then at my mom.”

“Miss?” I was pulled suddenly out of my mother’s diary and into the present.

“Yes?” I looked up and saw Nurse Emma putting some type of medicine into my mom’s IV’s.

“Would you like a blanket, or a pillow?” Nurse Emma asked.

“No, thank you, ma’am, I am fine.” I said, and then looked back into diary.

March 4th Continued…

“I grabbed Lucy’s hand and we ran down to the creek that flowed on the back part of my pasture. Lucy had never played in a creek before. She had lived in the city, she had never been out to the country, or even pet a horse. I showed her Buttercup, my Welsh pony, which I rode quite often. “She’s sweet.” Lucy said as she stroked Buttercup’s muzzle.

“Yeah, Buttercup likes people, especially nice people.” We giggled, and ran, and decided we would play in the creek one more time.

Afterwards, we sat on the bank of the creek and watch fireflies go by quickly; leaving streaks of light were ever they went. “Lucy?” I said, quietly.

“What?” She replied, just as quietly.

“Will you be my best friend, forever?”

“Forever,” Was the single word reply.”

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