It’s been over three years since I’ve been to North Carolina. As I drove in my red convertible with the top down, I glance over at the green fields of soybean and cotton. I remember my home use to be by the soybean field and Mrs. Stephens house was next door. She always made fresh cookies for Angelina and I.
Her house is the only one left standing and it is still in good condition. I turn the car off the asphalt road and onto the dirt road, blowing dust as I go. Angelina’s house is the same periwinkle blue with black shutters. I see Angelina’s father, Mr. Mike, I used to call him, but he insists that I call him Michael now. He nods at me as I pass him by going down further. I pass by all the luscious green fields and stopped the car in front of the forest. I remember when we was never to come back here when we was younger.
Angelina was very adventurous and daring, so she me made come back here one night. I got out of the car and walked down the dirt road in the forest. I hear the frogs croaking and I saw a snake slither past me. But I wasn’t afraid because I was going to see Angelina. I walked down the dirt road a little further. The trees cast shadows on the road from the setting sun. I finally turned down the road and saw the big wisteria tree, with its purple flowers in bloom. When Angelina and I first came here and saw the wisteria tree we stared at it in awe. Angelina said the flowers are like little purple bubbles. I told her they’re like fresh ripe grapes, fit for a king. She laughed and said that I’m too much of a daydreamer.
Maybe I am. I touched the flowers and a few rained on my head and on my face. I smiled to myself and walked down on the curve of the road. It wasn’t long until I came to a small shimmering pond, gurgling as if it was singing to me. Angelina said that it’s a magical pond, our magical pond. I gave our magical pond a name, Freya. At first, Angelina protested saying the should be named after her. Then I reminded her that she made me come here so I should name it. I looked into Freya’s calm clear waters and saw that there is no flowers from the wisteria in it. We used the wisteria flowers to make wishes and throw them into Freya, hoping that they would come true.
I walked pass Freya and turned the corner to see the wisteria tree again, all of its flowers have rained onto ground, as if the ground has always been purple. I laid down at the trunk of the tree, looking up at the reddish orange sky. I talked to Angelina, telling her how much I missed her. I told her that her dad is fine and well. I told her that I never told anyone about our special place, about Freya, and the wisteria tree. I sat up and smiled at Angelina. “Angelina it’s me, Maria, remember the first wish you made? You wanted to be here with the wisteria tree and Freya.” I brushed off the wisteria flowers and wiped away some moss on the tombstone, which read, ‘Angelina Brooks, 1989-2006.’
One of her wishes did come true. I scooped up a few flowers and walked to Freya. The wish I made is to be with Angelina forever. I wonder if it will come true just like Angelina’s did? I’ll wait until it does and I’ll be beside Angelina, giggling and enjoying each other’s company at the wisteria tree.
Her house is the only one left standing and it is still in good condition. I turn the car off the asphalt road and onto the dirt road, blowing dust as I go. Angelina’s house is the same periwinkle blue with black shutters. I see Angelina’s father, Mr. Mike, I used to call him, but he insists that I call him Michael now. He nods at me as I pass him by going down further. I pass by all the luscious green fields and stopped the car in front of the forest. I remember when we was never to come back here when we was younger.
Angelina was very adventurous and daring, so she me made come back here one night. I got out of the car and walked down the dirt road in the forest. I hear the frogs croaking and I saw a snake slither past me. But I wasn’t afraid because I was going to see Angelina. I walked down the dirt road a little further. The trees cast shadows on the road from the setting sun. I finally turned down the road and saw the big wisteria tree, with its purple flowers in bloom. When Angelina and I first came here and saw the wisteria tree we stared at it in awe. Angelina said the flowers are like little purple bubbles. I told her they’re like fresh ripe grapes, fit for a king. She laughed and said that I’m too much of a daydreamer.
Maybe I am. I touched the flowers and a few rained on my head and on my face. I smiled to myself and walked down on the curve of the road. It wasn’t long until I came to a small shimmering pond, gurgling as if it was singing to me. Angelina said that it’s a magical pond, our magical pond. I gave our magical pond a name, Freya. At first, Angelina protested saying the should be named after her. Then I reminded her that she made me come here so I should name it. I looked into Freya’s calm clear waters and saw that there is no flowers from the wisteria in it. We used the wisteria flowers to make wishes and throw them into Freya, hoping that they would come true.
I walked pass Freya and turned the corner to see the wisteria tree again, all of its flowers have rained onto ground, as if the ground has always been purple. I laid down at the trunk of the tree, looking up at the reddish orange sky. I talked to Angelina, telling her how much I missed her. I told her that her dad is fine and well. I told her that I never told anyone about our special place, about Freya, and the wisteria tree. I sat up and smiled at Angelina. “Angelina it’s me, Maria, remember the first wish you made? You wanted to be here with the wisteria tree and Freya.” I brushed off the wisteria flowers and wiped away some moss on the tombstone, which read, ‘Angelina Brooks, 1989-2006.’
One of her wishes did come true. I scooped up a few flowers and walked to Freya. The wish I made is to be with Angelina forever. I wonder if it will come true just like Angelina’s did? I’ll wait until it does and I’ll be beside Angelina, giggling and enjoying each other’s company at the wisteria tree.