Morning Walk

By Alicia Garcia

The sun wasn’t up yet, but its rays were peaking over the horizon, breaking through the night’s darkness. The air was still and cool, the hum of the buzzards had stopped, and the chirping of the birds hadn’t yet started, so her footsteps on the gravel echoed loudly. She couldn’t remember how she came to be walking along this long dirt road, but she was compelled to keep walking, as she knew she was going in the right direction even though her destination was unclear. Instinctually, she knew she was where she was supposed to be, the same way a bird always knows the path home.

Her memory of anything before this morning was fuzzy and distant, the same way that a dream is hard to reach after waking up. She had flashes from her memory, but they were disconnected; she couldn’t be sure what memories were old, and which were newer. She couldn’t recall waking up that morning, or leaving her home, or how she got so far away from home. She tried to close her eyes and focus on the flashes of memory, but it was like watching a slide show of pictures instead of a movie, and all of the pictures were out of order. She then realized that her feet hadn’t stopped moving, she had been placing all of her focus on her memories, and her eyes were tightly shut, but her feet were still carrying her step by step along the dirt path.

The dirt road had a shallow ditch along each side, and long reeds of grass grew in thick patches, and she was reminded of the dirt road she lived off of as a girl. There were miles and miles of land between each home, entirely invisible from the main roads, as the driveways were at least two or three miles long. The only indication there was even a home somewhere on the vast and mostly empty land was a mailbox here and there. She thought she might have been somewhere in Nowhere, USA, but there was no way for her to be sure. She thought it was possible it was the end of September because there was a chill that threatened colder temperatures to come, but the cool air now was only mild.

As she walked, she thought about her daughters; she didn’t know why she missed them so wholly. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw them. She pictured her youngest, so happy and smiley, but she had that look in her eyes that always made her seem older in her years than she actually was. Her short hair was the color of maple syrup, and she had her father’s pale skin, freckles that ran across her nose and cheeks. Her oldest daughter resembled herself more than her father or sister, though. She had large, deep features that were striking; her eyes were dark like her own, and her hair was almost black. Her oldest was always more somber than her sister, which was only accentuated by her severe features; she always seemed to be deep in thought or worry. She always worried more for her oldest daughter; she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, always taking on more and more without letting anything else go.

Her feet had carried her to a two-story ranch-style home with a wraparound porch. There was a paved driveway in front of the house, the only pavement on this dirt path that she had noticed. The white shutters were all open, the bright of the white stood out against the yellow clapboard of the house. The birds were waking now; she could hear the chirps of small songbirds and the caws of the larger crows that were gathering nearby. The screen door and front door were both tightly shut, and she saw there was no doorbell, only a door knocker, so she pulled the screen door back and gripped the knocker, doling out three firm knocks.

She knew before she knocked that she was at the home of her oldest daughter now; she wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was sure that this was where she was supposed to be. She was suddenly nervous, though she couldn’t figure out exactly why, but her nerves began to hum through her body, her teeth were almost chattering even though she wasn’t cold. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to her daughter, but she knew that she had to at least see her before she went back the way she came. She heard a voice from inside yell out, “Just a minute!” and her nerves hummed even louder now. Her heart was beginning to race, and the sound was starting to fill her ears.

She didn’t know why she was here, and all of a sudden, it seemed really important that she figure out why before the door opened. She tried hard to think of the last time she saw her daughter, and she couldn’t bring the memory to the surface; it lurked in her subconscious, trying to claw its way to a place in her mind where she could grasp the memory, and just as it began to clear, the door opened.

Her mouth opened before her brain told it to, and she heard herself say, “Hello Clarice.” Her daughter’s face tightened up with shock, her eyes widened, and her skin paled. As she took in more of her daughter’s features, she saw that she had aged; she had lines around her eyes and mouth that she didn’t remember being there before. She wondered how long it had really been since she saw her daughter, and if her own face had looked older, too. Her daughter was so pale now that she began to worry she might faint. She spoke again, “Clarice? Are you alright?”

Clarice seemed to catch her breath and muttered for her to come in, and so she stepped past her daughter into her home. She was unfamiliar with this home, and she glanced around, trying to capture everything about it all at once. She was sure that she had never been here before, but she thought it felt like home anyway. She could see all of her daughter’s homely touches. When her eyes fell back onto her daughter, Clarice was staring so hard her eyes would have pierced through her if they could. When Clarice spoke next, she could hear a layer of fear in her daughter’s voice.

“Who are you?” Clarice asked.

She didn’t even consider the question when she answered, “Your mother. What is the matter, Clarice?” She couldn’t understand why her daughter was acting as if she was a stranger, but her daughter’s eyes were bewildered, and she could see her hands were trembling.

Her daughter began to cautiously move towards her from the door, but she could see that she was fighting her own hesitation; her steps were small and slow. “You’re dead. I buried you ten years ago”. Her daughter’s eyes hadn’t moved off of her for even a moment. “How could it be you?” asked Clarice.

This time it was her turn to feel bewildered, but she wasn’t, instead of confusion she felt a bit amused and thought to herself that surely, she would know if she was dead, surely, she wouldn’t be standing here if that was the case. But she also couldn’t remember anything before walking over here this morning. And she couldn’t explain why she had never been to this house that Clarice has obviously lived in for years. She couldn’t explain her daughter’s aging face. “I’m not sure, I don’t remember dying. Did I have a funeral?” She tried to keep some levity in her voice when she spoke.

She watched as her daughter’s face went stark white, and right when she thought she would scream, Clarice began to collapse to the floor; she had fainted. She moved quickly to try and catch Clarice from hitting the ground; she caught her arms just in time to slow down the fall. She looked around the room to see if there was anything nearby that would help her daughter. She didn’t really know what she was looking for, but she got up and went into the kitchen, and found a clean washcloth. She ran it under the sink and then ran back into the sitting room to tend to Clarice. As she ran the damp cloth over her daughter’s face, she peered closer at the aging features she noticed earlier. Her hair had tinges of grays, and the lines around her eyes weren’t distinct and deep like her own, but they were there all the same. As Clarice began to stir, she sat back a little to give her some space. 

“Are you alright, Lissy?” she asked.

She could see that Clarice’s eyes grew wider as she looked around, as if she hadn’t expected her to still be here when she woke up again. But her eyes began to soften as she took in her surroundings and gained her bearings back. Clarice looked up at her with less scrutiny in her eyes than she had earlier; she looked stunned more than questioning, but in a voice almost like a whisper, she asked, “Is it really you?” 

She had to slow her mind down; she was on the verge of being swept away by the fact she might have actually died ten years before, and that her presence here now was some kind of miracle. She couldn’t allow herself to get stuck on that line of thought; she would have time to ask herself those questions later. Right now, Clarice deserved every bit of attention. “Of course, but I don’t remember anything before I walked over here”. 

“What do you mean? Where did you come from?” Asked Clarice. 

She didn’t allow herself to think about the question because she didn’t know the answer; she only knew that when she was walking here this morning, the rising sun was on her back, so she replied, “I came from the east, in the shadow of the rising sun.” She looked towards the window to see where the sun was now. Time doesn’t stop and she didn’t know how much of it she had left. 

At this, Clarice began to rise up from the ground and get slowly to her feet. She had her arm out in case Clarice needed help with getting up, but she seemed to manage okay on her own. Clarice stepped further into the sitting room and took a comfy-looking armchair, and she indicated with a gesture for her to sit down on a small couch across from her. She followed Clarice in the room and took the seat she had indicated to. She allowed herself to take in more of the room, her eyes lingering on each picture. She saw most of them didn’t include her; they were of Clarice and her younger daughter and of people who might have been friends, but she only spied one picture of herself. She felt Clarice’s eyes still on her and turned back to face her daughter. 

“How did you know where to find me? I didn’t live here when you died,” asked Clarice. 

She had known she had not been here before, but she didn’t know how she had gotten here either. “I am not sure, but I have always been able to find my way when I needed to,” she replied. 

She could see in her daughter’s face that she was still stunned to be here in this room with her, but her surprise and shock made her feel strange, like she was intruding on some place that she didn’t belong in. She looked around the room again, at the one frame that held her picture, and she looked at her daughter’s face again and saw that the young woman she had left behind wasn’t young anymore, and she wasn’t lost without her. She didn’t know what brought her here, but she could feel that it was time for her to start going back. There was a tug around her chest that pulled on her to get moving. 

She closed her eyes and thought about the last time she saw her daughter, and the memory that was so fuzzy before felt clearer now. She was ready to go back in time to that moment, and she felt if she started walking back to the east, she would be able to. She could feel her heart pull her closer to that memory, and she knew she had to leave now. She opened her eyes, not realizing that they were wet with tears, and looked to her oldest daughter, “I have to get going now. I am not sure that I can come back, but I know you won’t wait for me to. I know you have found your own way.”

Her daughter looked at her with wet eyes of her own, and she felt sure that she wouldn’t be back again. The look in her daughter’s eyes told her that she was correct; her daughter had made her own way, and she wasn’t needed here. Clarice replied, “I am okay now, I think.” 

As she rose to her feet, so did her daughter. Her time here was done; she could feel the pull around her chest fiercely now. She wouldn’t be able to stay much longer. She took a last look at her daughter and felt pride and sadness and something else she wasn’t quite sure about, and then suddenly Clarice’s arms were around her. Her daughter’s warmth seeped through into her, and she hugged her back tightly, and she felt the tug on her chest even harder now. It was time to go. Her daughter let her go. 

As she walked towards the sun, she could feel herself slip into another realm, like waking from a dream.