The Magic of Nature

The ice had finally begun to thaw. The snow still sat sleepily upon the sidewalk, though in the way of the warm sun it was turning to slush. People were bundled in their scarves and hats and some still wore gloves. Each step pushed the slush around, until it built up in the gutters of the streets and well out of the way of the general walkway.

Laurie was no different than anyone else walking through the city that day, except that her nose might be a little redder from the cold. An orange and black and brown scarf was wound around her neck, a matching hat kept her wavy hair tame for the time being. Between gloved hands she carried a cup of coffee, more for the warmth than the taste.

Rounding a corner and nearly colliding with someone else, she realized her mind was drifting again. These days it never seemed to stay in the present. She could only look to the past. She spent most of her time analyzing everything that had gone wrong in her life and how she could have prevented it in just one moment, with just a different decision. She knew she couldn't go back in time and correct it, but if ever given that opportunity, she'd spent so much energy contemplating the different outcomes for every instance possibly imagined she knew exactly what she would have done differently. If only that chance could become a reality.

The bookstore was her usual destination. When the images of her past had tormented her long enough, she turned to fiction. Disappearing into a world completely unlike her own, where she didn't have any control over what happened next, was a relief. Most authors made sure to tie up loose ends, to create happy stories for the characters, and that was all she longed for these days: a bit of closure and happiness. As she stopped at the usual door to her usual destination at her usual time, a new store caught her eye. She'd have to ask Joe about his new neighbor.

The soft tingle of the bell above the door announced her arrival and before long she was sifting through a stack of books for sale, trying to find the perfect adventure to lose herself in. Finding nothing that struck her as perfectly amazing, she settled instead on a romance with some mystery to it. Heading to the register, she offered Joe her cash, a smile, and a question. "How's the new neighbor?"

Joe lifted his eyes to the wall which separated his business from the one next door. "Couldn't say for certain. I have yet to meet the chap. He keeps busy inside."

"Who can blame him, in this cold? The sun's out but the wind still comes around."

He offered her a smile and the settled down on his stool. "Any plans for this weekend, Laurie?"

She forced a strong smile and lifted her book a little higher. "I plan to curl up on the couch and enjoy a good read. See you next week."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her leave the bookstore. Such a sweet girl, really. It was a shame what had happened.

The next week, she made her venture out to her bookstore once more, the previously purchased book already devoured. The ending was about as she had predicted, but there were some sweet passages that made it worth the read. As she crossed the street, she eyed the new store once more. It didn't quite seem to fit in with this part of the city and, deciding she needed a little adventure of her own, passed by the door to the bookstore entirely in favor of the new shop.

When she entered, there was no bell announcing her arrival. Towards the back of the room there was a cloud of smoke hanging over the register where a very slender man stood, his eyes fixated upon the door as though he had been expecting someone. There was no surprise to them though, as if it had been her precisely that he was expecting. Unsure of how to greet such a person, she offered a little wave before she started to browse through the nearly empty shelves.

Eerily he kept his focus on her, as she studied the different plants that seemed to be the only inhabitants of the store. There were no labels that marked them. Just pots of soil in most cases, and a few blooms or vines in the others. Unsure of what to make of it all, she glanced back towards the door, curious if it was bad etiquette to go into a shop like this without even making inquiry about the lackluster stock. Maybe there was something here she was missing.

In a moment of indecision, she glanced to the register to find that he must have moved at some moment, because where there was nothing on the counter in front of him before, there was now a pot of soil sitting there as though she'd selected it for herself and was intent on making the purchase.

"I believe this one is for you." His voice was smooth, quiet, every bit as mysterious as the rest of his shop. He himself was hardly the sort of man she would expect to see around town, with his pale red hair that hung freely against his back. Rich, brown eyes stared her down as his long fingers ran around the edge of the pot.

Intrigued, she moved closer to the counter, until she was able to peer into the pot, disappointed to find it was mere soil like the others. "I've never been very good at keeping flowers alive."

"This is not a flower."

Uneasy with what else it could be, she offered a sheepish smile. "I was on my way to the bookstore. I'd noticed you were new and was just curious what you sold, since every business seemed to be within a block from here."

He offered her a sympathetic smile and then ran the pads of his fingers over the top soil. "I understand. This is more exciting than any book you'll ever read. This is more promising than any person that will ever cross your path. This, dear friend, is exactly what you've been looking for. Now all you need to do is make your purchase and be on your way. I promise it won't put you out much. In the end, it will be worth its price and more."

There was nothing about this man that should put her at ease. There was nothing about what he said to her that didn't put her on edge. In her mind she reasoned that if it was inexpensive enough, she could just purchase her dirt and be on her way and then she could avoid coming in here ever again. Clutching her purse to the front of her body, positioned to withdraw her wallet, she remembered no price had ever been said.

"Just how much is this, this thing that is not a flower?"

"Twenty dollars."

Somewhat surprised by this, she blinked and then frowned. "Twenty dollars for dirt?"

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he tucked his hands behind him, grasping wrist in palm. "Come now. I would never charge so much for 'dirt'. Embedded in this dirt is the seed of your dreams and fantasies. Surely you would pay twenty dollars to have them come true. Just because you cannot see the final product standing before you now does not mean it will never be there. All you need is a little faith."

"What the hell," she murmured. If nothing else, she could always write about the time she was swindled by an elvish looking man selling her a pot of soil. She could always keep it on her desk to remind her of how foolish she was. Or scared. Too scared to eliminate the possibility of her dreams coming true, even if they were presented in a most absurd fashion.

Immediately after the exchange was made, he spoke softly to her, with a sort of shine in his eye. "It will take a very special kind of water to start its growth. After that, water it as you would any other plant. It will thrive on whatever moisture you give it. If you wish it well and healthy, every day. If your dream is not of that much importance to you, whenever you desire will do. If your dream fades or you find that you did not want what was in your heart as much as you thought you did, abandon it and it will abandon you. I have no fear you will accidentally kill this one, Laurie."

Her eyes shot up from her wallet to his face, searcing him for the meaning behind his words. He offered no explanation. Suddenly feeling all the more uncomfortable, she gathered the pot in her hand and mumbled a quiet and unsure, "Thanks," before making her way out of the store. So disturbed by the events, she completely forgot about her visit to the bookstore. Instead, she set off for home.

As the months dragged on and the slush melted completely, she found herself free of scarves and hats and mittens. The sun was no longer an illusion of heat and instead actually gave off warmth that introduced blooms and flowers, fresh leaves and healthy oxygen for all to enjoy. Caterpillars turned to butterflies. Small creatures could be seen scampering about in their games. The parks began to fill with families and children. The only thing not in bloom at this time of year was the plant she'd purchased from the store next to Joe's.

Romance, mystery, western, horror, science fiction, and finally biographies. As Spring turned to Summer, as long pants were replaced with short skirts, as boots were exchanged for sandals, she continued her weekly adventures. She took in story after story, filling her mind with new ideas and fantasies. Joe made several different suggestions to her, none of which had anything to do with the wares he sold. Instead, he offered her names. Numbers. Places where single folk gathered. She would always take the slip of paper that he'd written it down on, but they both knew she would neither lift the phone nor walk into a room where several other people on the verge of desperation were sitting, hoping the next one through the door would be their 'one true love'.

As all good things do, summer came to an end. The romantic summer flings would soon end. The relationships that lasted could look forward to chilly autumn evenings. Short skirts were replaced with pants and sandals with boots. Jackets would come into play but for now the scarves remained in the closet. This was the time of year she used to love most. Cuddling under a blanket next to a fire with secrets and happiness to share was what she looked forward to most. This year, she buried herself not only in books, but in her own writings. Her muse was the pot of soil. The bucket of dirt. Her dreams which were still unrealized and unfulfilled. Perhaps this was a prophecy of sorts.

Rather than cuddling by the fire, she stared at it from across the room. Sitting at her desk, she was at a loss for words. The story that would surely put her name on a shelf in Joe's store was falling apart, unraveling quickly, and though she was the author, the one in charge, she couldn't stop the trainwreck that was occuring before her. Characters that she had developed were suddenly rebelling against her, taking on lives of their own, making decisions she didn't authorize. If this all led to one divine outcome, that would be fine. Instead, the main characters had pretty much decided they hated one another and that ended her romance story. Always one to look on the bright side, she started cultivating a drama. Instead, they insisted on leading separate lives and there was no chance for reconcilition. In short, her endeavor was a failure.

Worse than that though, it seemed the seasons were coming too fast this year. Summer had definitely been shorter than years previous and autumn would soon turn to Winter. It was the winter that she dreaded. The cold bite of the wind sinking into any uncovered flesh was too much for her skin. The venom of the seasons often slid through her veins with a vengence, chilling her to the very bone. Her bones would then be brittle, ready to fracture under any pressure. They would be mere icicles within her body, forced to hold up the rest of her weight. When they did crack, splinter, it was agony. Of course, she never felt the effects of this anywhere but her heart. What did it matter though? The heart was the most vital organ.

Giving up on the computer completely, she folded her arms on the desk and dropped her head to the cushion she'd created. Hidden away from the world with only a fire that would soon die as her witness, she cried. First selfish tears, to ease the pain of being alone for another year. There was plenty she could have done for herself to meet someone new, she knew, but it was pointless. Her heart already belonged to someone. Then tears of anger, for what life had handed her. Everyone else had it so easy! Her life had been perfect! Then of self-loathing, because it was her fault alone that she ended up this way. Then tears of regret. Those were always the worst. Great, plentiful sobs and huge tears that plopped wherever they fell. But when she was done, she felt as though some pain had been lifted. Her chest heaved and breathing was difficult for a while, but something had been let go of. Finally.

Then came the feeling of disgust. Disgusted that she had allowed herself to sink that low in the first place. Lifting her head, she wiped beneath her eyes with her fingers and let out a half-hearted laugh. "Laurie, get a grip on yourself. All that crying's going to make you soft."

Shaking her head, looking for a distraction, she pulled the not-a-flower towards her and probed deep into the soil. "And what, exactly, are you? Other than a reminder of my inability to let go of my dreams to live in reality? Are you anything other than dirt?"

Exhausted, she let the fire die, closed up shop on her story -- for good -- and then headed to bed. While Winter wouldn't be any easier, at least she felt as though she could face it now. If she could just keep herself together through the rest of the year, she should be fine after that. Or so she'd been told. Biographies had been followed by self-help.

During the coldest part of the year, she decided that a gift to Joe would be appropriate. It might even help to thaw her heart against the icing over of the holiday cheer that was served throughout the month. She used to love Christmas. Embrace it wholly. Now she dreaded seeing the families together. She dreaded all the shopping that everyone spent too much time and money on. All she wanted was for it to go away, for everyone to resume their regularily programmed life. A gift for Joe would be easy though. She need not visit any store, need not spend much money at all, and it would probably mean more to him than any merchandise.

Gazing at the frosted doors in front of her, she pulled her jacket a little tighter, trying to keep the cold and skepticism out. This was the season of love. If you couldn't find someone for yourself now, you'd never find anyone. She'd finally taken a name. The subsequent number. She'd allowed herself to be taken out on a date. A blind date, but a date no less. He sounded nice over the phone. If it would put Joe's mind at rest that she was not intent on living as a hermit for the rest of her life, then it was worth it.

Dinner ended up not being as bad as she had expected. The museum that they went to afterwards sparked intelligent conversation and for the first time in a very long while, she found herself laughing in the presence of a man. This wasn't perfect though. In fact, it was a far cry from it. They saw each other on a few different occasions but each seemed to understand that what was being developed was more of a friendship than anything. The first kiss that they shared sealed that fate. Their excursions lasted until the end of the year. By New Year's Eve, he'd found a woman to take out who was genuinely interested in him and she was genuinely happy for them.

Things weren't so bad on her end either. She survived Winter. Spring was right around the corner. She was right back on track with a coffee and a book every Friday. And now, instead of coming home to nothing at all, she seemed to have a pretty little vine struggling through the soil. Last she checked, her heart hadn't hoped most of all for a vine, but if a vine was what she was granted, she would nurture it. For now.

With five pages left and a deadline of about ten minutes, she was trying to finish her book as she walked to the bookstore. The content had been less than interesting but she couldn't fathom buying a new book without first finishing the one she'd purchased previously. As the year had turned and she'd run through most of the genres that she enjoyed, it would seem romance was on the menu once again. It was suitable for Spring, she supposed, and at this moment anything was better than self-help.

Walking quite briskly, as if to escape the chill in the air, she was sipping her coffee and reading her book, positive she could cram the last few pages in before she reached Joe's bookstore. When she came to the corner that needed crossing, she glanced up to ensure there was no oncoming traffic and believing she was in the clear, stepped down from the curb.

Those seconds to follow surely could have ended in disaster for both her and the occupant of vehicle that was barreling down the lane right towards her, had it not been for a stranger that was acutely aware of his surroundings. A sharp, "Miss!" rang out just quick enough to force her attention away from the book to the oncoming force of a body that collided with hers, all in effort to push her back from where she came from.

As coffee splashed from her cup up onto her jacket, the dirty melted snow of the street splashed up against the back of the man who had bravely stepped between her and the oncoming vehicle that had not taken notice of the preoccupied woman. Standing before her was a drenched savior, who's hands had found home in his pockets as his hair lay plastered to the sides of his face. Exhaling audibly, he finally lifted his eyes to her.

Shocked by this display, and by the what-if's of the moment, she could only stand there with her mouth agape staring back at him. "Oh my God," she uttered softly, as she took another step back. "Oh my God I could have been run over. I could be dead right now. I could be lying there in the street bleeding out, watching my life flash before my eyes."

He was quiet, letting her sort things on her own, and only moved to step up from the puddle of melted snow onto the curb where it was dry, though it hardly made a difference now. He simply felt that standing in the gutter was inappropriate. Before he could do much else, a force similar to what he used to push her back away from oncoming traffic was reapplied to his body, though not quite so fierce. He teetered, but her intent wasn't to push him over. Instead, she felt her arms locked around his neck, her body pressed against his, and in his ear he heard her whispering, "Thank you," over and over again.

"I was just on my way to Joe's and thought I could finish this up before getting there." She was trying to explain that she was normally a very bright woman, one that could take care of herself. This was not normally like her at all. His soft smile reassured her that he didn't think ill of her though and so she quickly fell quiet. "Please, I have to repay you somehow. What can I do?"

He lifted a hand and his smile broadened. "It's quite alright Miss. Any decent being would have done the same, no need for repayment."

"How about if I bought you a cup of coffee? There's a store right down the way. That's where I got...the coffee that I've spilt all over myself." Glancing down to see that she had nothing left in her cup at all, she laughed.

"Very kind of you, Miss, but I don't drink coffee."

"Well I can't have you saving my life and then not having anything in return. There has to be something I can do."

He simply shrugged and then glanced over his shoulder. Looking down to the curb, he fixed his gaze upon the book that had not so long ago been in his possession, and how it was soaked to the core. Leaning over to pick it up, he tried to brush it off but water did not brush so easily. "If you were headed to that bookstore there, you could accompany me while I get another copy of this book. I don't need anything more than that though."

Eager to do something, she agreed, and the two set off for the bookstore.

After he found the book that needed replacing, grateful that there was another copy of it in the store, she purchased it for him. It was her fault that his new purchase had been ruined, after all. She found out that he came every Friday as well, only earlier in the afternoon. He was in search of a very particular book and that was when the order came in. She also discovered his name to be Josh.

When she went home that night, she felt as if something had shifted. Sitting at her computer, feeling inspired, she wanted to write. There was nothing fiction she wanted to write about though. Instead, she wanted to record how he had smelled of the earth when she hugged him. How sunshine poured from his eyes when he smiled. How there was a calm all around him. Glancing to the vine on her desk, she frowned slightly. She had been tricked into thinking all of her dreams would come true once before. She didn't need it again. In the end, she concluded that it was just a rush from being saved, from being so close to death, and went to bed.

That night of discouragement wasn't enough to keep her away on Fridays though. Her relationship with Joe was longstanding and she wasn't going to break a date with him just because there was a chance Josh might be there. It was only by coincidence that she arrived earlier than usual. Careful to watch as she went across the street, she only started looking through the windows to see if there was any figure moving around inside that could resemble his as she walked down the sidewalk in front of the bookstore.

The chime of the bell above her head when she opened the door alerted everyone in the store to her arrival. To her surprise, and pleasure, Josh emerged from the end of one aisle and offered her a smile. A bright smile. A smile to cast away all the clouds in the sky. He asked if she'd read the book he had in his hand and the conversation began. It was hours before it would end, covering topics that were hardly related to books at all.

This became a weekly ritual, something she looked forward to from the moment they parted every Friday evening, until one week they moved from the bookstore to a cafe from dinner. After that, they didn't necessarily meet at the bookstore any longer. A few weeks after that, they didn't meet at the bookstore at all. Instead, Josh picked her up at her apartment and together they explored the city.

The vine upon her desk grew happily, and despite what the shop owner told her, it did bloom. There were a few flowers along the stem that bloomed quite beautifully, in fact.

Spring turned into Summer and they traded in their walks around the city for a few drives to the lake. They splashed in the water, lounged on the sand, ate breakfast by sunrise and gazed at stars in the late evenings. His vibrant green eyes spoke always shone whenever they were together and especially so after they shared a sweet kiss.

When Summer wound down into Autumn, when she started wearing long skirts and boots and gloves, she began to worry. Everything had been wonderful up until now, but as the evenings grew cooler and the threat of Winter was in the air, she wondered if she could survive this year. Would she be able to handle having this wonderful person in her life with all the pain that the season promised? Until now, she'd had no reason to share with him this very important part of her past. Reluctant to chance giving him up though, she made a date with sorrow in mind.

The fire crackled in the hearth. Hot chocolate in mugs kept their hands warm. Together they sat on the couch. He spoke easily and lightly, trying to keep their smiles up, until she finally told him the nature of the visit. He no longer tried to keep her smiling. Instead, he listened carefully as she told him of the winter evening that destroyed her life.

It was first snowfall of the year and she'd planned an evening out together. They'd been married for a little less than half a year but every day was a honeymoon for them. She wanted to surprise him and so she insisted that she drove, even though he normally would. "Close your eyes," she said, and he did, with a smile on his face.

The light turned green and she could remember looking over at him, that grin on his face, as though he knew exactly where they were going. Her attention was torn from him though as the sound of squealing brakes neared her. Another car slammed into the passenger side of the car. Metal screeched against metal and glass erupted from its place, showering the both of them. Airbags popped and all she could see was white. Then black.

In the end, she walked away from the accident with only a few scrapes and bruises. Her husband had left his life back in the car. If she'd only let him drive, it would have been her instead.

The only part of the story that she held back was the part about the pot of soil. When the shopkeeper had told her that her heart's desire would come true, she thought for certain the car was meant to hit her. Then she would go on to the next world in a similar fashion as her love. Perhaps her suffering would atone for the suffering she caused him. This man didn't need to know the darkness that her heart had harbored for so long.

Josh held her afterwards. They sat in front of the fire in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. At the end of the night, she kissed him good-night and thanked him for hearing her out. Unlike the expected outcome, he returned the following Friday.

The two were inseperable. Over the years they got to know each other better than either had ever known anyone before. Every day they were bound to one another tighter and tighter until they were very nearly one being. It was then that she confessed that he always seemed to have come out of nowhere. With a past that he had touble recalling and a life that seemed perfectly open to accept her into it at the very moment that they met, she felt it was so much a fairy tale come true. He was inclined to agree.

They were wed in the spring of their fifth year, in celebration of the day they met. Attendance was scarce, as neither of them had much family or many friends. Joe was there, wishing them well, happy to see her find someone for herself.

As time went on, there were a few instances that made Laurie stop and scratch her head. Once was when they visited Italy together. Towards the end of their two week vacation Josh had falled a bit under the weather, his health declining with each passing day. At first he thought that he'd just gotten dehydrated and so drank plenty of water. After that, they feared he had caught something from one of the places they'd chosen to dine at. She wasn't suffering in the least though. Cutting their time short, they returned home and made a doctor's appointment for the very next day.

Once home, she noticed that her vine had begun to wither. She hadn't thought to have anyone water it when they went away because surely it wouldn't matter one way or another. As she filled her pot with water, to soak into the soil, she thought back to the words of the shopkeeper. Regardless of if it was mere coincidence or not, she never let the vine go a day without water again. Josh never faced such illness ever again either.

Despite their mutual affection for children, and their desire to have their own, no such thing ever happened between the two of them. Desperate to have a family to share all of her love with, she urged Josh to visit a doctor to see if there was anything that could be done. Normally compliant in all of her reasonable requests, he said to this that he would much prefer Nature decide what was to be and what was not to be. While she suffered from a broken heart for a while she ultimately had to agree. Instead of having children of their own, they simply adopted any of the tots in their neighborhood, and were always in good standing with the community for their charitable work with youth groups.

As they aged together, they seemed to fall more and more in love. On late evenings they would curl up together and each read a book. Sometimes the same one so they could discuss it later and sometimes different ones so they had something of another subject to bring up. Laurie eventually wrote her own novel and it is, in fact, on Joe's shelf in his bookshop. She even autographed a few copies for him to sell to her biggest fans.

Eventually Josh and Laurie moved out of the city and into the country where they could lead a quiet life, just the two of them. When Laurie started to become ill more and more often, they drove into the city to visit their doctor. Terrible news was delivered and a prognosis of only a year or so was delivered. Devastated, they drove home in silence. Neither could fathom life without the other.

They spent their time traveling, exploring different states and countries. They were intent on creating as many memories as possible with one another. Together they even returned to visit Joe for a while, to revisit all the spots around the city they had made their own. When they broke the news to him, the man broke down and cried.

As her last days neared, and she knew that they were her last as her body was good at telling her so, Josh stayed with her and slept as little as possible. They reminisced about everywhere they'd been and all they had done together. As he held her that night, she finally told him her greatest secret.

There once was a shop. It sold nothing but dirt and dreams. She repeated the shopkeeper's instructions to him exactly as they had been told to her and then told him of how she'd wept that night, angry with herself and the world over the loss of her first husband. The vine grew after then and has grown strong ever since. She revealed that the only time the plant had not been watered was the time they'd been in Italy and he'd gotten so sick. After that, she was always adamant about having it with or leaving it in Joe's care while they were gone. Joe thought she was nuts for demanding such care of a plant but happily obliged her anyhow.

Over the years she had come to believe that it was her dream to find someone just as he was. She wholeheartedly believed that the vine was part of his life, though he could disagree if he wished. When she pointed out too that he could not tolerate anything but water well, he could see the coincidences line up better than before.

Laurie passed shortly after telling him that story. She had been his whole life. The service was short and consisted of Josh and Joe, the two men that had loved her so dearly in her life. She was buried on their land, under the tree that had matured under her love and care. They'd had many picnics there as well, and was often the place he could find her reading in the evenings of the summer.

The winter proved too much for him. Everything around him reminded him of his wife and though he knew life certainly could go on, he knew he would never taste it or feel it or love it the way he did when Laurie was there to live it with him. The idea he held deeply rooted in his mind was tended to and mulled over until the snow melted and the ground was soft again.

All those years ago they met in the Spring. They celebrated their love in the Spring with their weddings. Now, if what Laurie had told him was more true than coincidence, they would be together again in the Spring. The vine that she cared for all her life, the man she had loved very much a part of that plant, was removed from her desk.

There next to her grave he sat, using his bare hands to dig into the soil. He told her of his love for her and how not a single day passed that he didn't think of her. The vine was moved from pot to earth, where it should have been all along.

As he rose, and wiped his tears with the back of a wrist, he looked upon his land, life, and vine for the last time. "I trust that you will continue to take care of me, and when you need me most, in the winter, you will call me to be with you."