Page 12 of Yellow
“Because when you’ve been around humans and done what I do for more than forty years, you have to be pretty slow not to see patterns. It’s like a doctor watching for symptoms to understand the sickness.”
“So, you just diagnosed my ‘sickness’ to be bad self-esteem.”
She tilted her head. “This bothers you?”
I shrugged and brushed imaginary dirt off my jacket. “It’s not like I can just go online and order better self-esteem. So what am I supposed to do about it?”
Onava laughed, stood, picked up her bag, and started walking back down the trail we had come along. “Follow me,” she said and I knew she meant it in more than one way.
I was quiet – thinking hard about her metaphor.Could she be right?Did I need people around me to fill me up?
My fear of sleeping alone, of being alone, and my constant need for attention suddenly bothered me. I wanted to see myself as healthy, strong, and self-sufficient. More importantly, I wanted others to see me that way too.
I thought they did!
Cold, and miserable, I was walking in my own little bubble beating myself up for being such a weak pushover. Faith was strong and would never take the same amount of shit from people that I did. We were twins and raised by the same parents, so why was she strong while I was weak?
Could it be a flaw inside me somehow?
Something beyond my control?
Onava stopped when she got to the clearing where her cabin was. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I gave her a quiet nod, but couldn’t hide the sadness in my eyes. I felt like I’d just been diagnosed with a chronic disease.
“I want to show you my fruit tree. It’s the most wonderful apple tree you can imagine. Beautiful, colorful, and with an abundance of apples to it.”
My brows knitted tightly together as I looked upon the sad craggy branches without a single leaf. The tree looked dead to me, but Onava smiled with pride as if staring at a blooming tree.
“Not many apples at the moment,” I said softly so as not to offend her, but that only made her break into another of those small signature laughs of hers. “You’re right. Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Max danced around us while Onava taught me how to master the fireplace. “There’s a generator out in the back, but it’s terribly noisy and I only use it a few hours a day. I prefer the quiet out here.”
Once I was warm and seated in the sofa, Onava brought me a book. “Read this.” She tapped her finger to an open page. “Read it aloud, it’s one of my favorite poems by Goethe.”
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter.
Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
“Is that why you showed me the apple tree?” I asked.
She nodded distractedly as Max starting barking, and looked out the window.
“Stay here,” she instructed. “It’s probably just a cougar or a bear.”
“Oh, I’m not going out there, don’t worry,” I assured her and pulled my legs up under me.
“Good. If you have a book, I suggest you read a bit. I have some things I want to go over with you, but consider this a recess.”
“Okay.” I got out my romance novel while Onava went out back. The loud humming noise told me she had turned on the generator and a minute later she came back in and pulled out a laptop.
I was halfway through chapter two when I noticed Onava getting up and leaving the cabin.
“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder on her way out.
The serious expression on her face when she returned ten minutes later made me nervous, as my instincts told me something wasverywrong.
