Ptolemy
The Cocoon Box and Butterfly Winged Papers
A flutter of paper dropped out of the bottom of a tattered cardboard box as Avery lifted it down from the top shelf of the closet. Bright pink and yellow slips, aged paper, white sheets, and blue documents drifted lazily down to the plush carpeted floor. The smell of mature ink and pages wafted up to her nostrils as a late summer breeze blew in from an open window. At first there was the instinct to swear and huff and puff, then she couldn't help when her eyes wandered over one piece in particular.
Avery automatically bent down to retrieve and replace the papers into the box, all except the packet that held all the details to her mother and father's divorce. Taking it lightly in her hands she held it to her chest and then held it in front of her face an arms length away. That was really it. She licked her thumb and flipped open the first page.
The date was from seventeen years ago, though it didn't make much sense. Her mother told her that he had died when she was only two. That was would have been four years before the papers were filed. Avery could hardly remember it as she shut her eyes... Nothing but red, sirens, and flashes. No memories of him, only recent activity played on the dark curtain of her eyes. Her mother's signature graced all the necessary line and verified every check; her father's signature appeared on none.
"Avery?" Her mother called from around the corner of the hallway, "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, Mum. A box just fell." Avery folded cover back and tucked it under her arm when she heard her mother's footsteps growing near.
"Oh, well did you find what you were looking for?"
"No… but it is fine. Really." She smiled and turned her armpit with the packet towards the wall.
Her mother scooted the box out of the way and muttered to herself. Avery leaned on the wall her arm limp, like the staples scratching against her under arm were like a numbing venom from a snake's fangs biting her.
"Mum?" She inquired her attention.
"What, dear?"
"Why--" A scared lump grew in her throat. She knew the topic of her father was an electric fence. If you spoke about him you were gripping onto an electric fence waiting to be shocked. "I- I was thinking of changing my hair." She blurted the last thought she had had before the waterfall of man-made leaves washed over her head, a frustration built in a knot between her shoulder blades. She was letting it happen again.
"How so?" A small grin grew on her face in anticipation to the new possibilities.
"I was thinking short."
Her mother's face held a tightness as she tried to hold the smirk on her face, but disappointment still showed underneath, "I don't think that'd look good at all. Don't get it. Besides," She came over and stroked Avery's hair, "You're so pretty with all this long hair."
"Ok." Avery timidly agreed and inched her head away from her mother's combing fingers.
The phone rang causing the women to jump. Avery adjusted her arm and waited to hear her mother speaking on the phone before moving out of her place. Her bedroom door shut letting out a click and she dislodged the packet from her damp armpit. She delicately placed it on the foot of her bed like a glass slipper. The summer breeze blew again, whistling in her room and the sound of her mother's laughter traveled through the walls.
Avery shut her eyes and tried once more to recollect anything of her father. At first a sea of red wisped over her eyes, then an ambulance sped by with it's even redder lights on, and the patrons of a bar lined the road mingling and frolicking. She squeezed her eyes tighter until it was speckled with black, but it only made it worse. The dim glow of a lamp shined behind her, a phone was only a few feet in front of her yet when she reached to it, it just doubled its original length away from her. Then she felt started to feel the claustrophobic entanglement of arms…
Gasping for air she widened her eyes letting air and light rush into them. Gazing at the booklet one more time Avery pulled out her suitcase from beneath her bed. The piles of clothing in her drawers soon emptied stuffing her bag full. Placing her hands on her hips she felt satisfied and zipped the top flap closed. Pacing a few times Avery mapped out how she was going to tell her mother, forgot about it, thought up a new conversation, and discarded that one too.
She halted her circling and bit her thumb nail. An indescribable force was moving her, it was going to make her wills happen, and it wrapped her worries in an odd certainty it was going to work no matter the approach. Avery's mind was spinning to the point where she hadn't noticed her mother was off the telephone. Her mother's knuckles rapped on the door.
"Come in!" Avery called.
"Dinner is ready if you'd like some."
"I'll be out in a second," She weakly smiled and shut her eyes to hide the thunderstorms of thoughts rolling in her brain.
"You look tired."
"I am. A little."
"You'd better get some rest tonight then." She gripped the bottom of Avery's chin and suggested.
Avery's heart raced, but she kept her voice even, "I will. I am going to run some errands in the morning. Do you need anything?"
"No, not that I can think of."
"Sounds good then."
The two ate their dinners in mostly silence. Avery's mother flipped through the newspaper and Avery absently mindedly pushed her food around. She had never really lied to her mother before, not to the extent of feeling guilt in the marrow of her very bones. An unnatural force may have been moving her forward, but Avery still didn't know if it was anything good would come.
Avery automatically bent down to retrieve and replace the papers into the box, all except the packet that held all the details to her mother and father's divorce. Taking it lightly in her hands she held it to her chest and then held it in front of her face an arms length away. That was really it. She licked her thumb and flipped open the first page.
The date was from seventeen years ago, though it didn't make much sense. Her mother told her that he had died when she was only two. That was would have been four years before the papers were filed. Avery could hardly remember it as she shut her eyes... Nothing but red, sirens, and flashes. No memories of him, only recent activity played on the dark curtain of her eyes. Her mother's signature graced all the necessary line and verified every check; her father's signature appeared on none.
"Avery?" Her mother called from around the corner of the hallway, "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, Mum. A box just fell." Avery folded cover back and tucked it under her arm when she heard her mother's footsteps growing near.
"Oh, well did you find what you were looking for?"
"No… but it is fine. Really." She smiled and turned her armpit with the packet towards the wall.
Her mother scooted the box out of the way and muttered to herself. Avery leaned on the wall her arm limp, like the staples scratching against her under arm were like a numbing venom from a snake's fangs biting her.
"Mum?" She inquired her attention.
"What, dear?"
"Why--" A scared lump grew in her throat. She knew the topic of her father was an electric fence. If you spoke about him you were gripping onto an electric fence waiting to be shocked. "I- I was thinking of changing my hair." She blurted the last thought she had had before the waterfall of man-made leaves washed over her head, a frustration built in a knot between her shoulder blades. She was letting it happen again.
"How so?" A small grin grew on her face in anticipation to the new possibilities.
"I was thinking short."
Her mother's face held a tightness as she tried to hold the smirk on her face, but disappointment still showed underneath, "I don't think that'd look good at all. Don't get it. Besides," She came over and stroked Avery's hair, "You're so pretty with all this long hair."
"Ok." Avery timidly agreed and inched her head away from her mother's combing fingers.
The phone rang causing the women to jump. Avery adjusted her arm and waited to hear her mother speaking on the phone before moving out of her place. Her bedroom door shut letting out a click and she dislodged the packet from her damp armpit. She delicately placed it on the foot of her bed like a glass slipper. The summer breeze blew again, whistling in her room and the sound of her mother's laughter traveled through the walls.
Avery shut her eyes and tried once more to recollect anything of her father. At first a sea of red wisped over her eyes, then an ambulance sped by with it's even redder lights on, and the patrons of a bar lined the road mingling and frolicking. She squeezed her eyes tighter until it was speckled with black, but it only made it worse. The dim glow of a lamp shined behind her, a phone was only a few feet in front of her yet when she reached to it, it just doubled its original length away from her. Then she felt started to feel the claustrophobic entanglement of arms…
Gasping for air she widened her eyes letting air and light rush into them. Gazing at the booklet one more time Avery pulled out her suitcase from beneath her bed. The piles of clothing in her drawers soon emptied stuffing her bag full. Placing her hands on her hips she felt satisfied and zipped the top flap closed. Pacing a few times Avery mapped out how she was going to tell her mother, forgot about it, thought up a new conversation, and discarded that one too.
She halted her circling and bit her thumb nail. An indescribable force was moving her, it was going to make her wills happen, and it wrapped her worries in an odd certainty it was going to work no matter the approach. Avery's mind was spinning to the point where she hadn't noticed her mother was off the telephone. Her mother's knuckles rapped on the door.
"Come in!" Avery called.
"Dinner is ready if you'd like some."
"I'll be out in a second," She weakly smiled and shut her eyes to hide the thunderstorms of thoughts rolling in her brain.
"You look tired."
"I am. A little."
"You'd better get some rest tonight then." She gripped the bottom of Avery's chin and suggested.
Avery's heart raced, but she kept her voice even, "I will. I am going to run some errands in the morning. Do you need anything?"
"No, not that I can think of."
"Sounds good then."
The two ate their dinners in mostly silence. Avery's mother flipped through the newspaper and Avery absently mindedly pushed her food around. She had never really lied to her mother before, not to the extent of feeling guilt in the marrow of her very bones. An unnatural force may have been moving her forward, but Avery still didn't know if it was anything good would come.
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