The Green

‘Are you okay?’ A stupid question, but what else could I ask?

She’d been sitting in the middle of the green, alone, which is what first drew me to look at her. She was beautiful, and this is what held my gaze. Her dark wavy hair had shimmered in the sun. She was cross-legged and the skirt of her dress was laid out perfectly around her. It must have been about knee-length and was a creamy pale yellow colour. The skin of her shoulders glowed pink in the afternoon sun and I guessed she must have been sitting there for a while.

Her head was lowered and I’d imagined her face; pale skin with light blue eyes, red lips that pouted naturally, and just a hint of gloss. No make-up save for eye liner because her eyes would be too big and her lashes too thick to warrant any mascara. Her cheeks would carry a natural blush. I had felt suddenly large and clammy in my white shorts and red and white striped t-shirt. I’d woken up that morning wanting to look perfectly colour co-ordinated, but now, seeing this effortless creature, I was awkward and very aware that the red in my flip-flops was a slightly different shade to that in my top.

‘My Mum died this morning,’ she said simply, in reply to my question. She licked the inside of her top lip, sniffed once, and stopped crying. She’d made no attempt to wipe away the wetness on her face since I’d walked over to her.

I’d chewed on my lip, looking at her before, and wondered how I could join her. She’d shifted her position slightly as I watched, one bare pale leg poking out from beneath her dress. Her toenails were a deep red and she wore an anklet on her left ankle. Hovering just before the rise of the green, I’d felt completely apart from her. There were people dotted around, mostly seeking shade from the bushes and trees, and I knew it was my rightful place to join them; to hide myself away. I was not the kind of person to sit in the middle of the green. I had an old bugs bunny towel that used to be red but was now no better than brown, I was sweaty and uncomfortable, the reds of my outfit clashed, and my glasses were a scratched old silver. I’d seen a vacant root under the biggest tree in the park and was about to turn to walk towards it when she’d looked up and directly at me.

She wore glasses. They were thick-rimmed and the same yellow as her dress. They were the kind of glasses I’d always wanted to wear but had never had the guts. I wondered if she had a different pair of glasses to match perfectly every outfit. Her lips had been a little apart, and they were paler than I’d imagined. Her skin was as pale as her legs except for her cheeks and the tip of her nose where the sun had caught her and turned the same pink as her shoulders. I couldn’t make out the colour of her eyes, but I could tell she’d been crying.

‘Sit down,’ she said, looking up at me as I hovered over her, not knowing how to respond. ‘Please.’

I sat and she laced her fingers through mine. I squeezed her hand and felt helpless. We both looked ahead and my eyes fell on the towel and bag I’d discarded a few feet away.

I’d put them down on the ground when she’d looked at me. My breath had caught in my throat and I’d smiled at her. She’d smiled back but her bottom lip had trembled and then her face had crumpled and she was crying again. She hadn’t turned away, hadn’t even taken her eyes from mine, just looked at me and cried without a sound. My feet had moved before I could think and I’d gone to her. She hadn’t taken her eyes from mine and now I was so close I could see they were green. Bright green. The eyes only achieved by coloured contacts. This had disappointed me and I’d frowned and she’d reached over and taken my hand, all the while her tears still falling.

‘Bring them over,’ she said now, following my eye line. ‘I’d love to know what you were reading when you came in.’

I looked at her. ‘You noticed me?’

She smiled. ‘I did. Red’s my favourite colour. I liked your top.’

She breathed deeply in and out, slowly, turning her gaze upwards, staring at the fading light above our heads. I sat still, watching her, seeing her chest rise and fall. Tears fell from her eyes again, coming with no reaction from her. I held her hand a little tighter and she smiled up at the cloudless sky.

‘I’ll read to you,’ I said suddenly.

‘Good,’ she said, nothing moving except her lips. ‘I’d like that.’