‘”Bicker, Ads, and your beloved Gavin.” My beloved Gavin . . . ha! That would never happen.’ Ali scoffed as she walked briskly down the street, Gervaise’s words echoing in her thoughts as she hurried away from the lodging house. To her the statement seemed to be some cruel mockery. As if she had really meant to say, “He’s mine, you stupid little girl. How could someone like you ever hope to have a chance with someone like him?”
She knew that Gavin didn’t care about her, of course she knew. She wouldn’t have started keeping her distance from him if she hadn’t known. ‘As if that wasn’t hard enough without her gloating about it.’ She thought to herself bitterly, remembering what it had been like when all she wanted to do was run to the only person she felt she could turn to, but he didn’t care about her, not anymore. She tried, she tried so hard, not to let anyone see how much it hurt her. When it got to be too much she would go to her favorite tree in the park or to her mother’s grave and cry there, but never in front of them.
‘It would be never, anyway, if you hadn’t screwed up in front of Picks and Bicker,’ she reminded herself. ‘He shouldn’t have said it though, that thing about me being upset because Gavin was upset, even if it was true.’ She shook her head quickly. He hadn’t meant it to upset her, of course, but it had all the same.
‘I would be fine if they’d stop reminding me. I would be fine if they would just leave me alone. Can’t a girl be miserable in peace?’ She sighed as she made it to her favorite climbing tree and leaned against the rough bark, finally letting the tears flow freely. She couldn’t help it once she really got to thinking about it. Sometimes she could distract herself for a while or tell herself that she should be happy for him, but she always ended up remembering. First she thought of his smile, and then his laugh, and then some memory of one of the times he had teased her or when he had been concerned about her. Inevitably the memories always led back to the same thought, ‘It will never be the same again.’ It was that thought that always made her cry the hardest, and when she got to thinking about him, no matter how hard she tried to push it away, it always surfaced.
Tonight was no different than the other nights. She sat by her tree and hugged her arms around her waist as she cried and despaired and questioned until she could finally push the thoughts into hiding once again. She took a few seconds to wipe her cheeks and compose herself before she stood up and hesitated for a moment, glancing at the tree as she debated. Finally she shook her head, muttering to herself, “I can’t go back there, not tonight.”
She patted the tree once and set off in the direction of her uncle’s apartment. He didn’t mind letting her stay there, and he didn’t ask any questions.
And she rolls, she's a river
Where she goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, he can't go with her
And she rolls, all by herself
All by herself
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to catch Ali’s attention. He had, he had tried for months, and he had had enough. He was closer to her than to most people in the lodging house, but she didn’t like him as any more than a friend, and if she did she had an odd way of showing it. There had been a few moments when he could have sworn that she liked him the way he liked her, but they were just that, moments, and before he knew it she was pushing him away again. ‘What was I supposed to do? Nothing was ever gonna happen with Ali an’ me. Then there was Knots and Gervaise and they were interested. No use chasin’ after someone that doesn’t like me when there are others that do.’ He grimaced and shook his head a little, ‘Not that I haven’t had my fair share of mixed signals there either.’
He shook his head as he neared his selling spot, muttering to himself sourly, “Girls, they’re just crazy, that’s all.”
And he rolls, he's a highway
Where he goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, she can't go with him
And he rolls, all by himself
All by himself
Alicorne glanced up and panicked for a moment, wishing she could hide, but Gavin had never let her hide from him, and she knew it. She looked away as he approached. “Yes, Gavin?”
He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “For the record, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t really mean it, you know, an’ you don’t have to be mad at me anymore.”
She looked up at him and shook her head, glancing away and replying gently, “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me? And don’t deny it, I know you are.” He added firmly, before she could object.
“I . . I just. . “ She hesitated and stared out at the street, searching for some answer other than the truth. She sighed and let her shoulders droop a little, shaking her head silently.
He watched her for a moment and seemed to know or guess what it was that she was thinking. “Nothing has changed, you know.” He reached a finger out and lifted her chin up so that she looked him in the eye. “You’re still my friend. You’ll always be my friend.”
She stared at him, wishing that she could force herself to believe the words, but she knew that she would only be deceiving herself. As if he could read her thoughts, he hugged her just as he used to and she closed her eyes and committed the moment to memory, as the thought once again ran through her mind, ‘Never again.’
He pulled away and repeated himself, a little less certainly than before, “We’re friends. Nothing in the world can change that.”
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him so she cast her gaze to the ground. “Yes, I know.” She replied quietly, and they both knew it was a lie.
Gavin glanced at her regretfully and sighed. “I should get back. Good bye, Ali.” He brushed a hand through his hair and walked away.
She nodded slightly but didn’t dare to look at him as he left. A few teardrops slid down her cheeks and several more built up in her eyes as the same thought plagued her, ‘Never again. It will never be the same again.’
“How as it that The Count of Monte Cristo ended?” She asked aloud, as if the tree could answer, and after a few moments she remembered and nodded, “Ah, yes: ‘Wait and hope’ . . . Well, it’s not a signed contract to happily ever after, but what else have I got? Might as well try.” She sighed and shook her head, murmuring quietly, “Story of my life, wait and hope and wait and hope and wait and hope some more.”
She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she crawled back out of the tree and started to walk away from the park, still less than hopeful despite her efforts.
She glanced across the street where she saw a woman trying to sell flowers. On a whim she plucked some leaves from a nearby oak tree and quickly dodged across the street, walking closer to the woman.
She must have been rather young, but the heat of the day added years to her. Her face was smeared with dirt and little drops of sweat trickled over her features, which were drawn and tired. Ali glanced down long enough to notice the bulge of the young woman’s stomach and for a moment wondered what her life must be like. She had only a moment; however, before the woman glanced her way suspiciously.
Alicorne managed a small smile and looked into the woman’s basket. The flowers had been in the sun for too long and their leaves and petals drooped badly; nonetheless, Ali plucked out two sprigs of white snowdrops. Fragile and withered, the flowers seemed to Ali very appropriate. She dug in her pockets, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that was scolding her for being wasteful, and produced the money needed to buy the flowers. The woman nodded her thanks and started to turn away, but Ali stopped her and placed the oak leaves in her calloused hand along with one of the snowdrops.
The woman glanced at the sad looking plants she now held and then looked quizzically at the odd girl that stood before her.
“Oak leaves for bravery; snowdrop for hope.” Ali explained, offering a tremulous smile as she tucked the second snowdrop into her hair, and without another word she turned and made her way back to the lodging house, once again reminding herself, ‘Wait and hope’.
(The River and the Highway, Pam Tillis)
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