Chalk.
One/One.
Collin Lewis sat at his dining room table, eating his eggs and toast, while watching the morning news. This was how it always was. He was single, and in his early thirties, living alone. He had always thought of himself as a sorry excuse of a man. Collin had spent his early years pushing away any female that had tried to come onto him, all except for one. As the thought came, he stopped himself from thinking of it any longer, for it would only hurt him more.
It was then, that the phone rang.
He rose from the table with a grunt, and slowly walked over to the home phone. He looked at the number. It was familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. He picked up the phone.
“Hello?” He asked, his voice gruff.
He was met with quiet sobbing on the other end.
“Collin Lewis? Is that you? It’s me, Penelope Harlow, Clara’s mother.” He was surprised, to say the least. He hadn’t heard from Penelope in years.
“Yes, it's Collin. What’s wrong?” He was worried, now.
She broke down crying, not even bothering to try and stop any longer. ”It’s- it’s Clara! Clara- Clara’s killed herself!” She nearly shouted into the phone.
Everything stopped; His breathing, the news, the birds chirping outside. His world stopped.
Clara, his love, his everything, was gone.
***
The morning was dark. The skies were clouded with the carriers of the thunderstorms that would take stage in the near future. The birds did not chirp, as the sun did not rise. Everything was still, quiet. He drove silently to the beach where Clara’s ashes would be released. She had always wished to be cremated. Something about decaying in the ground had always repulsed her. He laughed at the memory. He had a lot of memories with her. As he pulled up to the beach, he pulled the bouquet of Orchids, Peruvian Lilies, and Stargazer Lilies. They were her three favorite, kinds of flowers, and they were all pink, her favorite color, too. She always had said that she wanted her cremains to be released of a mountain into an ocean, with flower petals flying alongside her.
He sighed, and got out of the car. He walked up to where everyone was standing. They all talked, about Clara, and all the wonderful memories, all except for three people. One was Collin, for he’d rather keep his memories to himself, so he listened. The other two, were Clara’s husband, Richard, and her son, Alex. They were talking quietly in a corner. Alex was only four, so it must’ve been hard for Richard to explain to Alex where his mother was, and why she wouldn’t be coming back. From the looks of it, Alex still didn’t understand anything that was going on around him.
Soon, everyone gathered around and took their seats for the reception to start. As people began to share their speeches, Collin zoned out, remembering the day he had met Clara.
Clara Harlow watched in wonder as the big moving truck drove up the drive way of the house next door. Someone was moving in, her mother had told her. She was outside, and had been playing with her chalk, before she got distracted, that is.
Clara was obsessed with chalk. She was always outside, either drawing on the pavement, or playing hop-scotch. She could never have enough.
As Clara traced the Purple Heart with pink chalk, she looked at the family moving in. There was a girl that looked older than her, a mother, and a father. That was all she saw, until a little boy, who looked around her age, step out of the truck. Well, more like jump out of the truck. He had red hair, and from the looks of it, the darkest green eyes she had ever seen. He was carrying a little red toy boat in one hand, and a snickerdoodle in the other. He looked around, before his eyes landed on her. He stared for a moment, before running over to his mother, who was coincidentally talking to Clara’s mother, and clutching on to her skirt. He peeked out behind it, looking at her. His mother noticed, and grinned at him, before saying something to Clara’s mother, who looked over to Clara, and motioned for her to come over. Clara picked up all her chalk and put it back into the bucket before picking the bucket up and skipping up over to her mother.
“Honey, Clara, I want you to meet our new neighbors. They have a son, who’s seven, too. His name is Collin. Collin, this is Clara.”
And that had been the start of a beautiful friendship. Strangely enough, it had been the chalk that had brought them together. They would play games, make some up, and play word games too. Over the years, they ended up becoming best friends. My seventh grade, they both had feelings for each other. In tenth grade, he got up the nerve to ask her out. They dated until college. As everyone says, when you get out of college, everything changes. Everyone was right.
He was coming to visit her at the community college she was at, during spring break. As soon as he got there, she broke it off. She had found someone else.
Three years later, her and that ‘someone else’ Richard, got married.
Finally, when she turned thirty, she had Alex.
Alex, the young boy who instead of listening to the priest, was playing with chalk, and a chalk board.
Clara, love you…
It was then, that the phone rang.
He rose from the table with a grunt, and slowly walked over to the home phone. He looked at the number. It was familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. He picked up the phone.
“Hello?” He asked, his voice gruff.
He was met with quiet sobbing on the other end.
“Collin Lewis? Is that you? It’s me, Penelope Harlow, Clara’s mother.” He was surprised, to say the least. He hadn’t heard from Penelope in years.
“Yes, it's Collin. What’s wrong?” He was worried, now.
She broke down crying, not even bothering to try and stop any longer. ”It’s- it’s Clara! Clara- Clara’s killed herself!” She nearly shouted into the phone.
Everything stopped; His breathing, the news, the birds chirping outside. His world stopped.
Clara, his love, his everything, was gone.
***
The morning was dark. The skies were clouded with the carriers of the thunderstorms that would take stage in the near future. The birds did not chirp, as the sun did not rise. Everything was still, quiet. He drove silently to the beach where Clara’s ashes would be released. She had always wished to be cremated. Something about decaying in the ground had always repulsed her. He laughed at the memory. He had a lot of memories with her. As he pulled up to the beach, he pulled the bouquet of Orchids, Peruvian Lilies, and Stargazer Lilies. They were her three favorite, kinds of flowers, and they were all pink, her favorite color, too. She always had said that she wanted her cremains to be released of a mountain into an ocean, with flower petals flying alongside her.
He sighed, and got out of the car. He walked up to where everyone was standing. They all talked, about Clara, and all the wonderful memories, all except for three people. One was Collin, for he’d rather keep his memories to himself, so he listened. The other two, were Clara’s husband, Richard, and her son, Alex. They were talking quietly in a corner. Alex was only four, so it must’ve been hard for Richard to explain to Alex where his mother was, and why she wouldn’t be coming back. From the looks of it, Alex still didn’t understand anything that was going on around him.
Soon, everyone gathered around and took their seats for the reception to start. As people began to share their speeches, Collin zoned out, remembering the day he had met Clara.
Clara Harlow watched in wonder as the big moving truck drove up the drive way of the house next door. Someone was moving in, her mother had told her. She was outside, and had been playing with her chalk, before she got distracted, that is.
Clara was obsessed with chalk. She was always outside, either drawing on the pavement, or playing hop-scotch. She could never have enough.
As Clara traced the Purple Heart with pink chalk, she looked at the family moving in. There was a girl that looked older than her, a mother, and a father. That was all she saw, until a little boy, who looked around her age, step out of the truck. Well, more like jump out of the truck. He had red hair, and from the looks of it, the darkest green eyes she had ever seen. He was carrying a little red toy boat in one hand, and a snickerdoodle in the other. He looked around, before his eyes landed on her. He stared for a moment, before running over to his mother, who was coincidentally talking to Clara’s mother, and clutching on to her skirt. He peeked out behind it, looking at her. His mother noticed, and grinned at him, before saying something to Clara’s mother, who looked over to Clara, and motioned for her to come over. Clara picked up all her chalk and put it back into the bucket before picking the bucket up and skipping up over to her mother.
“Honey, Clara, I want you to meet our new neighbors. They have a son, who’s seven, too. His name is Collin. Collin, this is Clara.”
And that had been the start of a beautiful friendship. Strangely enough, it had been the chalk that had brought them together. They would play games, make some up, and play word games too. Over the years, they ended up becoming best friends. My seventh grade, they both had feelings for each other. In tenth grade, he got up the nerve to ask her out. They dated until college. As everyone says, when you get out of college, everything changes. Everyone was right.
He was coming to visit her at the community college she was at, during spring break. As soon as he got there, she broke it off. She had found someone else.
Three years later, her and that ‘someone else’ Richard, got married.
Finally, when she turned thirty, she had Alex.
Alex, the young boy who instead of listening to the priest, was playing with chalk, and a chalk board.
Clara, love you…