The Light Through the Leaves

Artist: Kate Sheckles

            “The thing about your life insurance ma’am, is that if you have a pre-existing condition we can’t cover it for you.” The light above the desk flickered, the smell of week old coffee hung in the air. The small, dusty lady stood up, clutching at her purse.

            “If this establishment won’t cover me, I’ll take my money elsewhere.” The walls shook with the anger of the senior as the door slammed behind her. At ten years into the insurance business, it should be safe to assume that rejecting people would come easily. But the sting of guilt and a few extra trips to the liquor store always came with it. Eventually some form of validation would come from this, but the fresh faced twenty five year old that originally joined the rat race hadn’t been seen in a long time.

            The cold wind slapped against his briefcase as he locked up, making his way down the carefully salted sidewalk toward a vacant bus stop.

            Screeching to a halt next to him, the bus arrived. There were three agonizing stops along the way to the shitty apartment he called home. Three painful stops filled with pure, crystallized angst. But tonight as he stepped on the bus, a calm tremor filled the space instead. Sitting down next to the doors of the bus, he dwelled in the stillness of the air before, with a sudden burst, it was over without a sound. The chokehold of the moment releasing him. It was here he could have assumed something was different about the night, if he was smart, he would have acknowledged the restlessness settling into the pit of his stomach.

            He quietly slipped off the bus, trudging through the cold bitterness of the night toward his next stop, passing laughing bar-goers in windows surrounded by cigarettes and smiles. He peered in curiously, glancing at the buzzing atmosphere before moving on, examining the next building as he passed.

            It took him a moment to realize a light streaming onto the street had stopped him on the sidewalk. He turned to looked at the brightness vying for attention and took a hesitant step into the otherwise completely dark space.

            The light shifted, shrinking up a small staircase and then sliding around a corner. Practically beckoning for him to follow it around the bend.

            He stumbled up after it, chasing the light as it darted up a second staircase, this one much longer than the first. He watched the light glide up the seemingly endless stairs and he stopped momentarily, heaving out a breath of stale air before he began his ascent. His beady blues eyes never once leaving the light.

            As a life insurance provider, maybe he would know the terrible things to not do throughout his life. But what didn’t kill him, was only severely detrimental. And climbing up the endless staircase, it was starting to catch up to him.

            When the light began to slip out of sight again, his feet quickly caught up with his mind and he finally reached the top. Without stopping for the breath he lacked, he followed the ball of light to a set of double doors considerably out of place amongst the drab furnishings of the building. They were thick doors, plated in gold with words inscribed on them in loops. On the left “The Light Through the Leaves,” and on the right, “Garden Entrance.”

            Without an ounce of hesitation, he shoved open the doors to find a guard railing blocking him from falling into a pit of vines. Leaves wrapped around the iron fence, almost completely covering it in green. They followed a path leading up to a tall, arched glass ceiling, a series of red climbing roses dotting the ceiling like stars. Past the fence was a drop off, but from up above it was clear to see a beaten path into the wilderness of flowers organized into a perfect chaos.

            There was no way down except to jump and hope for the best. So that’s what he did as he straddled the fence, carefully lining himself up with the edge so his back was pressed flush against it. He stepped off the ledge, letting out a gust of air as his feet hit the ground, the solidness of the ground rocking through his knees and into his shoulders, knocking him onto his back.

            The vines covering the ground below his feet gently curled themselves around his legs, impairing his first movements in the spread of the garden. But he broke free and began walking towards the beaten trail, leading towards a thick, dark dome in the center of the garden.

            In front of him, the light appeared once more but the sense of urgency was lost on him. Calmly he walked towards it, following the light into the thicket. It lead him slowly into the blackness of the dome, settling in the center of a fountain, the light pouring out of it in thick streams. Slowly the room filled with light, rippling over the ground in waves, the spread of damp leaves and dirt padding the ground transformed into a spiral of black and white tile circling the ground. The vines restricting the light from entering the dome seemed to retract into themselves slowly and a small kitchen was revealed. A rickety table sat in the center of the room with toppled over chairs surrounding it carelessly, a dusty fridge sat on the opposite end of the room. Red curtains hung from the slanted walls of the kitchen, covering cabinets tucked into the corners of the sink and counter tops.

            Off to the side a small hallway appeared, a line of threadbare carpet following it into the darkness it lead to. A scuffling noise could be heard from one of the doors along the hall, a glass shattered, and a sound like someone banging on the wall began to echo in his ears. He began to hesitantly step forward, no longer quite sure how this place may react to him. A new factor had emerged, and it was that he wasn’t alone.

            He had never taken kindly to things like this, from a young age he had worried about things like natural disasters, water, the dark, and the things that go bump in it. Despite being terrified of the situation before him, and the obvious clatter of a reckless being somewhere in the dome with him, he continued on. He reached the end of the hall and began to turn the knob slowly and he entered a bedroom. A fluffy, white bed sat in the center of it, and curtains billowed out from the open window on the opposite side of the room, and in the center, sweeping up shards of glass, was a young woman.

            She looked up in surprise and then a slow smile spread across her face as she saw him, “Oh good. I thought you were going to be late for dinner, and I made your favorite.” The light coming in from the window seemed to dance off of her skin, illuminating the air around her in gold. She was beautiful.

            “Who are you?” He heard himself say. It was involuntary, and he found himself cursing his thoughts for asking a stupid question like that. If a beautiful girl offers to make your favorite dinner, you don’t start questioning her. Fortunately for him, she just lent another awe inspiring smile in his direction.

“Your wife, stupid. Do we have to go through this every time you come home from work? I mean, I know you’re a big shot now with your own company and all, but remember the little people.” She joked, leaving the room and bustling down the hallway. 

            His eyes followed her down the hall and he walked inside the room, setting his coat down on the bed in front of him and running his fingers over the soft comforter. He smiled for a moment, thinking back to when he first established himself in the insurance business. He had had a rough go of it- but she was there every step of the way.

            But then he paused, his mind seeming to be clouded in a grey fog, and a lamp in the corner flickered. He hadn’t owned his own insurance company. So why was the memory of one so vivid?

            “Rob, dinner’s going to be done in ten minutes, you should come set the table.” He heard her voice chime from the kitchen. He shook off the feelings of grogginess and made his way down the hall, wondering why he ever doubted himself. Of course he owned his own company, he graduated with honors, his college girlfriend became his wife, and he had never been better.

            “One minute darling, I’m going to change first.” He walked to the closet, opening it up to empty hangers. He slid off his suit jacket, hanging it up and padding softly down the hallway. With his back turned, the closet slowly began to fill with suits in the same fashion.

            He began searching through cupboards, finding their good china and setting it out. It had been awhile since they had a date, or anything near it. He was usually stuck at the office so late, she was already in bed by the time he got home.

            “Virginia,” he smiled, “How about we go for a walk in the garden before dinner? We could pick some roses for the table.” With her back turned, the silence was tangible, “Just a few, I saw some good ones walking inside today,” he added.

            “You know how I hate when you clip the flowers. You’re just killing them prematurely.” She finally said. She wouldn’t look at him as she worked, finally pushing the pan in the oven, “And you know, things should die at the right time, never prematurely. Let nature take its course.”