Where the Sunflowers Grow
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-3-
My Will

I took a deep breath as I peered toward the glowing television screen. I was back home now, mom had called me before I'd had a chance to venture into girlhood. Mom did not feel safe driving home in a blinding rain storm. So we cut our little trip into Jackson short. I was a little disappointed. But I guess I just had to wait patiently and deliberately for the right opportunity to act, rather than acting on impulse.

One of my favorite historical figures, Ieyasu Tokugawa, had a saying, “Little bird, if you don't sing, I will wait for you. So I just had to wait for my chance to let the caged bird free. In the meantime I'll just just keep working, keep saving my money, and keep my eyes and ears open.

It was that thought that drifted through my head as I peered toward the glowing television screen. On the screen I could see a deep, dense jungle. The jungle reminded me of the backdrops of those old Vietnam era war movies. Through this dense, underbrush moved lumbering humanoid robots known as Gundams.

And then all of a sudden, from the underbrush came a greenish, nightmarish looking robot. This greenish, nightmarish looking robot attacked the white, humanoid robot with something of a hatched blade that was glowing a deep red. The screen then cuts to the pilot of the white humanoid robot screaming as the greenish nightmarish robot brought down it hatched on the other robot arm. Five seconds later a bright yellow and orange blast filled the screen.

And that is what made Toonami great. Toonami is an American late-night television programming block that mostly broadcasts Japanese animation programs or anime. Well the more darker, grayer anime. There was a calmer, more kid friendly version that aired in the afternoons. The difference in the two was simple, in the more kid friendly version, you know the one that aired in the afternoons?

Well, that type of anime was more clear-cut, you had good guys and bad guys. You also had cute creatures who just repeated their names over and over. It was also tame, because when people died they were often brought back to life. Like when the Sailor Moon and her allies were all killed at the end of season one and brought back to life because of the power of friendship. Or when everybody who either died in Dragon Ball Z were brought back by wishing upon the Dragon Balls? Or when Ash Ketchum the main character of Pokemon was brought back to life after being turned to stone in the first movie by the magical tears of those creatures.

Anyway you get my point. Late-night anime was different. It felt different, it had different messages.

The next anime was a bit different. Inuyasha was a kind of melting pot. It was a kind of slice of life, fantasy, survival, historical (?) anime. The anime followed the misadventures and adventures of a girl named Kagoma Higurashi, who was from modern Japan who one day got pulled into a mystic well by a demon and transported to warning states period.. their she met a half-dog, half-demon named Inuyasha.

I considered Inuyasha to be something of a more adult version or more teenage version of Sailor Moon. Mainly because when people died, they stayed dead. And also some episodes focused on child sacrifice to regional powerful demons.. brutal.

Anyway this episode of Inuyash was one of those which took place in modern day Japan. Kagoma Higurashi and her friends were walking to or from school when out of the corner of her eye, Kogoma spotted the ghost of a little girl. The girl was wearing a thick coat, which Kagoma found strange considering it was early spring or late spring? Anyway it must have been hot as Mississippi as one of Kagoma friends mentioned how unseasonable the weather has been.

Anyway, I'm not going to give a play by play of what happens, only that in the end Kagoma with the help of Inuyash and a friendly demon named Soul-Piper helped sooth the lonely ghost girl before she was dragged into the ever burning pits of Hell. Shinto Hell.. see what I meant by Late-night anime hitting harder than the friendly after school anime. This was a perfect example, the soul of a lost little girl who died in an apartment fire, is chained, yes chained, with iron chains and dragged to the very closet where she was burned to death in order to drop into the pit of Hell.

I was slightly unhinged by this. But what unhinged me most was the ending theme song. There was something deeply melancholy about the ending credits. But the whole feeling I got from the ending theme was a deep feeling of being disconnected. It kind of summoned up how I felt on a rainy, foggy Sunday morning. That feeling is deeply disconnected from reality.

Up next was the last anime before the station went off air for the morning. It was a more comical slice of life anime. The anime was called You're Under Arrest. The anime focused on the many adventures and misadventures of two female traffic wardens. The first one was the mechanically-skilled Miyuki Kobawawa and the tomboyish, impulsive Natsumi Tsujimoto. I like it.. it was kind of a breath of fresh air. Also there was one character who spoke to me most of all. One who I felt a deeper kinship with. Her name is Aoi Futaba and she was the only anime character I knew of who was a man.. but lived his or should I say her daily life as a woman.

And she was an ideal woman too, but that I mean she was demure, gentle, she was really kind with the kid characters. Was kind of the den mother of the group. She blended and brewed her own tea, handled all the crafting in the station, was the one who knew all the latest gossip, who knew all the latest fashion trends and who was always giving make-overs and fashion advice.

I paid little attention to the episode. But one line struck me, well it struck me, and that line was delivered by Aoi Futable. “I might have the body of a man, but I have the soul of a woman..” That line stood out to me, it stood out so much that I had to quickly write it now. Because I felt there had to be more to that line.. some hidden truth and by damn I was going to unlock it's hidden power and make that caged bird within my soul sing!

End of Chapter 3

-4-
Holy, Holy, Holy!

I took a deep breath as I lit the altar candles. I normally skipped church, but I remembered this Sunday I was supposed to acolyte. And besides, most of the extended Potter would be here this Sunday morning. I guess I should take this opportunity to tell you a little about my family. My family, the 'Potter' family is well known around these parts. My family was among the first wave of settlers to arrive in Benton back when Benton was nothing more than hardwood bottom.

Back then this was considered the frontier. This was at least a hundred years before the War. I mean this town used to be called 'Hannah's Landing' before being changed to Benton. I don't know when or why they changed the name of the town. But one thing I do know, in the churchyard behind the church several generations of my people slept in the peaceful assurance of the resurrection.

Once I lit the altar candles I bowed and retreated toward the vestment room. Judging by the small trickle of people filtering in from the streets, I'd figured I'd had around fifteen to twenty minutes to get into vestments before the service started.

The vestment room was located toward the back of the church and smelled of month balls and incense. I'd hope I'd get a head start but it seemed the youth group had already let out. And the small room was already overflowing with people. And then it dawned on me that today was a feast day. That would explain why four younger acolytes helping  us this morning . I did some mental math and then it dawned on me, I was the oldest of the group.

“Morning.” A young woman with flaming red hair said as she gazed toward me. “I was wondering if you'll make it. Since you played hooky this morning and skipped Sunday School. We had donuts.”

I blinked. And slowly I unzipped my jet black hoodie. Revealing a black, graphic, anime tee-shirt that featured Sailor Moon. I then reached up and took down an empty iron clothes hanger. Once the clothes hanger was in my hands I threaded my hoodie onto it and hung it back up.

“I slept in.” I muttered.

The young woman blinked and blinked again. She then reached into her purse and pulled out a hairbrush. “I see, and you forgot to brush your hair this morning too? Do you also forget to brush your teeth? And did you shower?”

“...” I blushed a little. “I brushed my teeth, I washed my face, I even changed underwear.” I said, rolling my eyes as I reached up and picked out the small size cassock they had. I slipped it on and took a deep breath as I started to button the blasted thing from the top down.

“Oh and you totally forgot the bird's nest that is your hair?” The woman said, taking a deep breath.

“I'm running on less than five hours of sleep.” I muttered.

“...” The woman paused and then took a deep breath as she walked over and started to button up the cassock. She then settled the white Surplice on my shoulders. She then brushed the front off.

“Thank you mum.” I said, smirking a little.

“Hold still.” She muttered as she walked toward me with the brush. Several seconds passed as she ran the bristles of the brush through my hair. Muttering about how long it was and how thick it was. All of this caused quite a scene too. The younger helpers all just stood around and gawked at me, some even giggled. I felt my cheeks bloom with color.

“There.” She said slipping a ponytail holder into my hair. “A nice neat ponytail, clean vestments.”

She then paused and took a deep breath.

“Also don't take this the wrong way, but the way you look right now, kind of reminds me of Persephone.” She said, smirking a little. “I mean long black hair, enough eyeliner to put any metal boy-band to shame, the faint smell of hot-topic.”

A chorus of giggles filled the room. A few moments later like a bat, in came Fr. Tremain. Fr. Tremain had been the parish priest of St. Mary's Episcopal Church for at least thirty or so years. He was a tall, gray haired man with a dropping chin and gray-blue eyes that always seemed tinted with sadness. He looked like a stiff wind would knock him down. But when he spoke, he spoke with authority.

“Are the candles lit, Mr. Potter?” He said as he started to get vested up.

“Yes Father.” I said.

“Good, now let us pray.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Lord be with you.”

“And also with you.”

“Lord God, Father of all true believers. We give you great thanks, for kindling in the hearts of the youth of this parish a burning desire to serve at your altar. Humble, we, your devoted followers, ask you to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your holy word.”

Prayer concluded we were ushered outside. The brick paved courtyard echoed with our footfalls. A moment later we were lining up at the back of the church. It was a full house this Sunday. I knew the church would seat at least two hundred people, and on this given Sunday it seemed all two hundred seats were filled.

Slowly I walked over and carefully I picked up the processional cross. I closed my eyes, the thing weighed a ton. And of course with St. Mary's Episcopal Church being an 'High Church' Parish. The Processional cross of course had to be topped with a crucifix. Cross in hand I took my position in front of the column and took a deep breath.

I had a lot to think about. But now I need to get through this service.

End of Chapter Four.