September Sky
by Morgan Carlock Clark
Rose
Rose placed all fifteen casserole dishes in her freezer. She didn’t want to keep them — they were a constant reminder of what happened. Maybe by hiding them in the depths of the ice, maybe then she could forget.
Rose brushed her cold, wrinkled hands on her long black dress and almost laughed when she remembered she was wearing pearls. It had been, what? Fifteen years since she got them out of her jewelry cabinet? Rose couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Henry giving them to her on their twentieth anniversary.
When Rose entered the living room, she saw her five grown-up children sitting with perfect posture on the brown leather couch. She hadn’t seen them all together since … she couldn’t remember.
Rose mumbled, “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She forced herself to smile in front of them as an indicator of her sanity, and she scrambled out of the house before anyone could stop her.
Lily and Jasper
Isla asked, “Are you ready for your first date?”
Lily blushed. “Ah! Do I look okay? He will be here to pick me up any minute!”
Isla reassured Lily, “Stop messing with your hair. You look amazing. Besides, Jasper doesn’t only care about your looks; he likes you, Lil.”
Lily’s phone buzzed. “He’s here! My makeup looks okay? Do I have anything in my teeth?”
Isla laughed, refusing to answer any more questions. “Have fun! Tell me all the juicy details when you get back!”
Skylar and August
August carried his little sister away from their too-small, too-dirty trailer.
“Auggie! Put me down!” Skylar wailed.
August held her tightly. “This is for your own good,” he muttered.
Once they were several blocks away, he set Skylar down and noticed her black eye.
“If anyone asks you what happened, I want you to tell them you fell off of your bike.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” August changed the subject, “Wanna come to the park with me?”
“Yippee!” Skylar started skipping towards the park.
“Wait!” August called after her, “You need to stay with me.” Out here, he needed to protect her from cars, from strange people, from more bruises. Inside the trailer, August couldn’t do anything against him.
Violet
Her boss’s cold words echoed in her ears. “We have to make budget cuts.”
Well, she reminded herself, hours after the harsh conversation: I have to have a job. I have to provide for myself. I have to … calm down and think.
Violet unloaded the boxes of her office supplies in her living room. Five years working for him. FIVE YEARS! Violet threw her purse on the floor. Seeing its contents scatter, she rushed with fury to clean it up. Amidst the sea of Kleenexes, lipstick, notebooks, pens, and mints, she found her favorite paintbrush: a Filbert. Violet stroked its bristles, and the smoothness of the hairs caused her hard face to soften. She picked herself up from the floor and grabbed the other remedies she needed: a canvas, paint, water, and her other brushes.
Violet gently placed the supplies in her car and headed to her painter’s sanctuary.
Rose
The sun blared down on Rose, and her thick black dress absorbed the heat. She didn’t mind, though. She imagined that she was wrapped in a blanket. But nothing and no one could ever make her feel the way he made her feel.
She gripped her pearls, puckering her lips at the memory. The ridges in her cracked lips expanded. Not even Chap Stick could repair the damage.
Rose placed her fragile hand on the empty space beside her on the park bench.
Lily and Jasper
Jasper ran around the side of his car to open Lily’s door before she could hop out.
Lily grinned, “Thank you.”
Jasper opened the trunk and pulled out a picnic basket. He had kept the details of the date a surprise from Lily.
Lily felt like her face would hurt for a week because she was smiling so much. She couldn’t believe that a guy, no, not just any guy — Jasper — would take the time to plan this for her.
“Can I help you carry anything?”
Jasper’s arm muscles bulged as he held the picnic basket. “You can get the blanket for me.” He used his head to point to the blanket’s location in his trunk.
Lily grabbed the blanket and followed Jasper.
There was only one person in the park — an old lady wearing black. She sat on a bench alone.
The two walked in the opposite direction to give her (and themselves) privacy.
Skylar and August
“Can I go play?” Skylar asked.
August scanned the area. “Yes,” he sighed.
He watched her climb up a short rock-climbing wall to reach the top of the playscape.
She turned around and waved at her big brother.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he called. “Stay right there until I get back.”
August heard Skylar talking to herself as he walked away. “I’m Princess Sky!”
Violet
Violet planted her canvas on the easel. She situated her paint and brushes around her and began observing her surroundings for a subject.
That’s a beautiful tree — the way the sun creeps through the red and gold leaves. She dipped her angled brush in water and stretched to wet her brush with brown paint. Oh, wait, I already painted this tree.
Violet watched the people in the park, searching for inspiration, but none of them seemed interesting. An old woman sat alone. A child played. A young couple ate together. Violet would normally consider painting the couple. She heard them laughing and wondered if their love blinded them to the harsh realities of life.
Lily and Jasper
Lily felt like she had known Jasper for years. She could tell him anything, everything. He constantly asked questions, pausing after each one as if pondering her responses. Lily attempted to do the same, but her giddiness bubbled in her throat.
Jasper knew he had to inquire about “the basics” before he could ask Lily deeper questions. But he was ready for something more intimate. “Tell me more about your family.”
Lily hesitated to answer but finally decided to reveal the truth that felt prominent in her mind. “My mom is … sick.”
“What do you mean?”
“She has Fibromyalgia.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“She is always in pain and always tired. If you met her, you wouldn’t be able to tell — it’s not like cancer or anything — but there’s no cure. I’ve watched her be miserable for fifteen years. I wish there were something I could do to help her.” Lily sighed.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Jasper said.
She offered a fake smile.
Jasper reached for her hand and clasped it in his. “I’m here for you,” he told her.
He cupped his free hand around her face, turning it to meet his. He leaned closer. Jasper didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, but he hoped this would make her realize that he cared about her.
Rose
Rose’s quiet and lonely afternoon was interrupted by a child’s voice. The little girl was playing pretend … maybe a princess? Rose could barely hear the child’s words, but she watched the girl twirl and wave and —
The girl lost her balance on the playscape and tripped, falling onto the ground.
“Oh, dear!” Rose raced towards the girl. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
The little girl stirred, then burst into tears.
Rose noticed her black eye, but she didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere. Rose scanned the park for a concerned parent or guardian. There were other people — a woman painting and a young couple — but nobody appeared to be looking for a little girl. Nobody but Rose knew what happened. “There, there. You’re going to be okay.”
Rose focused on the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Princess Sky,” she murmured in between tears.
Rose chuckled, “It’s nice to meet you, Princess Sky. I’m Rose. Can I stay with you until you feel better?”
Skylar nodded. Her tears subsided, and her eyes widened as she stared at Rose’s necklace.
Rose smiled, “You know, if you are a princess, you need to look the part.” She unclasped the pearl necklace. “Would you like to wear my pearls?”
Skylar’s jaw dropped. “Yeah!”
Rose fastened the necklace on Skylar. “Prince Charming gave these to me, but he would want me to give them to the next ruler of the kingdom.” Rose could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, but Skylar needed the pearls more than Rose.
Violet
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Moore began, “I am proud to announce the winner of this year’s Phillip Lewis Prize for Painting: Violet Evans.” Dr. Moore paused to allow the crowd time to clap as Violet walked onto the stage. “Violet, please tell us about your inspiration for this piece before we reveal it to the audience.”
Violet started, “On one of the worst days of my life, the day I lost my job, I was searching for comfort, for hope, for meaning. I went to the park to clear my head and paint. I thought about painting the scenery there. The trees were green and gold and orange and red — the colors of change. The sky was such a deep blue — the kind that might make you sad if you are in a certain mood, but it could just as easily remind you of a breath of fresh air, of freedom — that color blue. But when I picked up my brush, I didn’t focus on nature. I painted them.”
Violet uncovered her masterpiece, and the crowd stared in awe. They marveled at the focal point — an old woman lifting up a little girl, as if they had just embraced in a hug. The old woman wore a modest black dress with no jewelry. The little girl had a bruise over her eye, yet she wore a smile that matched her strand of pearls. The old woman and the child had both been crying, yet the two were smiling in the painting, as if, for a moment, they forgot about whatever troubled them. In the background, a couple leaned in for a kiss. And surrounding the subjects in the foreground and the background was the deep blue of September’s sky.
About the Author
Morgan Carlock Clark has been published in Heart of Flesh Lit, Southeast Missouri State University Press, Canvas Lit, and Sundog Lit. Morgan received an MFA from Seattle Pacific University, and currently teaches creative writing online at Louisiana Christian University.
Next (Five Photographs by Michael Shoemaker) >
< Previous (Story: Grandma’s Story)
Image is an AI-generated image. Public domain.
