A Glimpse

Just a short scene about a teenager catching a glimpse of her future.

            I sit here on the back patio under the shade of the big green umbrella and stare out into the backyard. The summer heat makes beads of sweat glisten on my forehead as my eyes roam over the tall green grass; grass that could use a trim. I look at the swing set, it’s faded wood and cracked sliding board, and memories of my childhood flood my mind; days spent outside with my parents as a young child, picnics during the summer, parties during my teenage years, building snow forts during the winter. This place is familiar. This place is my home.

            As my eyes gaze at the lush, green trees and beautiful, multi-colored flowers, I take a deep breath and then close my eyes. A gentle summer breeze passes through, rustling the leaves on the trees and blowing my blonde hair in my face. I breathe in deeply yet again, allowing the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the fresh air to fill my nostrils and take over my senses. With my eyes still closed, I hear the trickling of water from the pond to the right of the deck.

All of a sudden, a warm sensation flows through my body, sending heat from my toes to the tips of my fingers, to the top of my head. The smell of summer is almost overpowering, filling every fiber of my being. My senses seem to be on overdrive as I smell the flowers and grass, hear the trickling of the water, taste the breeze on my tongue, and feel the warmth of the sun on my face.

The sensation passes, leaving my mind in a blank state. The sounds around me still sound familiar, but new sounds reach my ears now. I hear cars passing on the street out front, their motors humming as they follow the road ahead of them. I hear the rumbling of a plane overhead, and with my eyes still closed, I can imagine the trail of fluffy whiteness following behind it in the blue summer sky. I hear the chirping of birds coming from the cherry tree next to the garage, their familiar song flowing through my mind. But the most distinct new sound I hear is the squealing of children playing. This confuses me, because I know that none of my neighbors have children, or even have grandchildren that age, and I had just been alone in the backyard.

Next I hear the sound of bare feet walking through the crisp green grass, coming toward me. I take in another deep breath just as something warm is placed into my lap. My hands automatically wrap around whatever it is, and am startled to feel the heat emanating from it. My hands meet soft, smooth flesh. I run my hands down chubby little legs, feeling the softness of them until I reach the feet, and little-bitty toes curl up inside my hand. I bring my hands back up to find a chubby little tummy, gently moving up and down with each precious breath. I run my fingers along the arms, feeling the creases at the elbows and wrists until I’m holding tiny little hands in my own, feeling the small fingers playing with mine. I breathe in the scent of the baby as I rest my forehead against the back of his head, my nose just grazing the fine hair.

I feel a strong hand on my shoulder, and I bring my head back up, finally opening my eyes. A handsome young man sits in the patio chair next to me, a smile on his face. His eyes are crinkled in the corners, possibly from years of laughter, and the breeze gently blows his dark hair into his eyes. My eyes search his face for any signs of familiarity, but come up with nothing. I have never seen this man before in my life, yet I’m not scared. Even though it seems impossible, I somehow know who he is. I smile back at him as I cuddle the baby closer. I look down at the gift in my arms and my smile grows even bigger. A cherubic face is looking up at me, big baby blue eyes staring into my own. His chubby cheeks are flushed from the heat outside, and a line of drool is trailing from his mouth. A silly grin is plastered on his face, and he’s in nothing but a diaper, which gives him somewhat of a comical look, but I have never seen anything more beautiful and precious in my entire life. Even though it’s impossible, I know he’s mine.

The sound of more squealing finally brings me to tear my eyes off the baby and look up into the back yard. It looks almost the same as the one from my childhood, but it’s different, I can tell. However, it’s not the yard that captures my attention, but the two young boys playing in it. The taller one is digging about in the sand box, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. His fair skin is caked with crunchy sand, and his tousled blonde hair is sticking up all over the place. He looks to be about five years old, and as I look at his younger brother, I judge his age to be about three. I know they are brothers because they look exactly alike. They both have fair skin and blonde hair, and even share the same athletic build. I also know another fact; they too, are mine.

This whole thing confuses me though. One minute I’m sitting on my back porch as an eighteen-year-old about to travel to a confusing, far-away land known as ‘College,’ and the next I’m a mother of three sitting on a different back porch with my husband, watching my children play in the back yard. As I contemplate the possibilities, a gentle nudge brings my mind from my thoughts. The baby boy in my arms is squirming, and I figure that’s what it was. But a few seconds later, I feel another one, and I know it’s not him. My hand instinctively moves down to rest on my stomach, which I know notice is a slight bulge under the stretched cotton fabric of my dark blue shirt. I feel another nudge, and my palm finds the place where I felt it, on the left side of my stomach, just above my hip. The feeling is so overwhelming and I feel my eyes tearing up. A larger, darker hand covers my own and then a deep voice says, “Is our little girl kicking?”

I look up into the eyes of the man who must be my husband and in that one moment when our eyes meet, I can see a lifetime full of love, laughter and friendship. I can see us growing old together, raising our children the way we were raised by our parents. I smile in response and gaze back out at the yard, at my sons running around in their shorts, and a wave of contentedness washes over me.

I can see countless mornings in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for my family, cleaning up messes that the kids make, washing dishes when I’d rather be doing anything but that. I can see evenings in the family room, watching movies and cuddling on the couch. I can see endless bath times, with soap, bubbles and water escaping the boundaries of the bathtub. I see years of school and church functions; band concerts, sporting events, and various trips. I see busy schedules, sleepless nights, sacrifices made, but most of all I see joy.

While others my age are dreaming of bringing about justice, saving lives, even being political heroes, I’m dreaming of this. I don’t dream of becoming a lawyer, a doctor, or even the President of the United States. I dream of becoming a mother. It’s my calling, and it’s all I yearn to be.

A new sensation creeps its way up my body, starting from my toes and ending at the top of my head. I close my eyes as the feeling continues. This time, it’s not the summer heat that engulfs me, it’s a chilling sensation that leaves me shivering and shaking. Goose bumps rise on my arms and legs as the coldness consumes me, overwhelming my senses and shutting them down completely. I can no longer hear the chirping of the birds, the trickling of the water, the squealing of my children. I can no longer feel the summer sun shining down on me or the softness of the baby boy in my arms. I’m surrounded by nothingness, my mind blank.

           I know my time is up. I’ve been given a great privilege, but it’s time to go. As the chills subside, I open my eyes and find myself once again in the backyard of my childhood. The birds in the cherry tree are singing their familiar song as the water in the pond trickles through the fountain. A gentle breeze blows through the trees as I sit alone, once again, on the back porch.

Reviews

[Erinne S.]

Wow girl! This is amazing! I am really impressed. I loved it!
The sentence where you said "I dream of becoming a mother. It's my calling, and it's all I yearn to be." actually brought tears to my eyes. That was really sweet.

This is excellent and I look forward to reading more of your work!