Bea's Sunflower

This is a short story about a girl doing creative writing in a cafe avoiding her duties of the day to come. Her short story that she is working on is broken up by descriptions of the cafe and a poem.

Bea’s Sunflower

Chairs scraped across the stone floor as the espresso machine churned loudly emitting smells of fresh coffee. Morning fog swirled in great white plumes against the windows choking out the clarity of day. Inside the cozy room the world was forgotten; people sat at small islands lost in novels of mystical realms, tales of the south, and enraptured in mysteries. 

She slept on a thick soft bed nuzzled into her green linen. Sunflowers peaked into her open window shrouded by the fog. On the stove was a black kettle puffing steam furiously from it’s spout. Below, over the small fire a thick stew bubbled and frothed happily. Her long black hair spread out like a fan on her pillow. A bird chortled through the mist from a tree somewhere nearby. 

Her eye’s opened...

Bea’s pen stopped moving and she tapped her ball point pen against her notepad. The barista called, “single shot americano!”. She walked over in a daze to get her drink, all the while her inner eye remained focused on that girl laying in bed. A lump rose into her throat as she sat down staring off into the misty world outside. 

It had been one year since the doctors informed her that her mother was very ill. Cancer. A singular word with so many implications, so much grief. The floor beneath her feet had dropped away when the tall man in the pale blue scrub gave her that infuriating sad smile. Solid ground had not returned since. She had been walking on clouds lost in a world that was not her own. Bea’s reality was as surreal and unbelievable as the room with the sunflowers. So she chose the made up world instead. 

A little old woman bent with age walked through the adobe archway carrying firewood. Her shawl glittered with beads and she wore tiny round sunglasses. 

“Wake up Nuna. The fog greats you today”, she smiled and shook the sleeping girl. 

“Mama?” her eyes fluttered open briefly again.

“No Nuna its granny.”

“Granny!” Nuna sat up with a smile haggard by sleep and grabbed the old woman with gusto. A large black cat followed at granny’s heels and hopped onto the bed. It rolled onto it’s back, luxurious in it’s alarming size. 

“There is so much for you to see today my bug. But first, there is stew... come eat,” granny grinned, the sunflowers reflected in her spectacles eerily. The room had a red table in the center with flowers painted all over it and three chairs pulled up to it. The cat jumped up with ease and sat at one of them. 

“Here eat”, granny said gruffly handing Nuna a small clay bowl piled high with stew. There were chunks of yam and kale steaming amid curried lentils and a dollop of goat cheese. Granny placed a hot loaf of fresh bread in the center and placed two more bowls on the table. The cat began to eat the stew casually. 

The sound of a sitar floated beautifully through the carved adobe window...

Bea's mind wandered back to a time when she was ten years old on a road trip with her family through the great Southwest. Back then her mom was glowing with health. They hiked amongst the giant red sandstones breathing in the fresh desert air perfumed by scattered juniper trees and sage. Out in the desert where rock and sky and star were one, she had known none of the true pains to come. 

Back then her mind had been like a prism; absorbing light and reflecting it out in her many diversified moods and colors. Her soul was a raven taking flight through the caverns of the Grand Canyon.  Like a beacon in the dark people were drawn to her inner light. Surrounded by so many friends, she used to throw her head back in the wind freely giving love. 

Bea sat  paralyzed by her memories looking past the small room with the stew and in a new direction. She decided to write a poem, she was not very skilled at poetry but sometimes it healed her like balm to a wound.

Through the vast 

emptiness

is where I find

fullness

in my dreams I travel

back to the days of 

red rock

I see the periwinkle

forever

I smell juniper trees

again

in my dreams this place is 

sacred

outside it is wet and green

inside it is dry, arid,

stark stone

the call of the black raven

floating through the mesas 

****

in my dreams I visit this special place

out here on the naked rocks i bare my

secrets

my roots are not green and damp

they are as dry and gnarled as 

the sage brush that perfume my

memories

in my dreams we are all together

five members of 

one

she is smiling, glowing, climbing

I look to her face as a flower would see the

sun

in the vast emptiness I talk to 

stars

out here they are not distant

out here they are my acquaintances

in my dreams I run alone past purple

mesas 

I find Ship Rock in the end

and for reasons only these red giants can know

I cry. 

Bea sighed. Her coffee had gone cold, but she was too invested in this memory to ask for another cup. There was nothing left in her pen. Her thoughts had gone dry. Soon it would be the afternoon and she would return to the hospital. 

She would sit there on the hard chair and watch as her mother lay in a bed of misery and hopelessness. With all of her might she would do everything possible to make her comfortable as mom had done for Bea since birth. 

Pain fluttered in her soul like a dying butterfly whose wings could not lift. 

She intended to leave this place one day. Leave this town all on her own. Off into the sunset she pictured herself driving without any connections without any plans. True freedom would be the butterfly flying until it could no longer remember it’s name. 

Just a couple more minutes. She thought to herself desperately not ready to face the day that lay ahead of her. 

The sitar echoed eerily outside. 

Nuna ran out of the wooden thatched door and peered shivering into the white fog. A tiny light bobbed up and down coming towards her. She ran inside and grabbed her purple shawl.

“Granny I will be back!” She called out. Granny cackled to herself and patted the cat’s head.

“Like I said, there will be much for her to see today”, and she smiled showing her gold capped teeth to the cat. It shuddered and continued to lick at the lentils. 

The light continued to draw nearer and nearer. Nuna ran, her bare feet sinking softly into the wet ground. A woman with long hair rode on a steed. Sunflowers crept out of the ground like little suns everywhere. The woman smiled hugely threw her arms up into the air with a gesture of festivity. 

“Come with me bug! Come see the world with us!” She cried to Nuna. This woman also wore tiny round sunglasses and they too reflected the sunflowers. 

“Okay!” Nuna cried out almost desperately. She did not even turn around to say goodbye to the cottage which was now hidden completely in the fog. Nor did she know this woman, but she did not care for she was ready to see with open eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran as fast as she could alongside the steed. 

“My darling you are missed. We missed you. We have been watching you for some time now. But now it is time to face the world. Let us bring you out of this fog.” the woman said never looking down at Nuna but always facing forward. 

Fear suddenly struck Nuna like a stiff breeze but she did not falter in her step. Too long had she been sleeping in the world of that room. 

The cafe was now full of people who brought in the day with their lively steps. The early morning folk silently trickled out of the room off to their jobs. But Bea remained seated. She sat there for twenty more minutes until the day was undeniable and it was time to go. Fear in her heart, she packed up her notepad closing the world of sunflowers and hid it in her bag. She bussed her dishes and left the cafe entering the sunny day never looking back as the sun absorbed her into reality.

Author's Note

Let me know how you feel about the organization and flow of the story is it confusing? What sort of feelings does this evoke within you?

Reviews

[-inactive now-]

Beautifully written story. It flows well, you did a good job of clearly separating Bea's reality in the cafe and the stories she was writing. You created and described your settings quite well as they evoked vivid images for me. I didn't find it confusing at all.
Your character, Bea, was well constructed. To me she seemed very three-dimensional- life-ilke. I empathised with her and her struggle.
You are a very good writer. :)

[WoodSky]

thank you for reading and reviewing!