Magnolia Blooms & Sakura Petals
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-3-
Heather Elizabeth Croft

Ice cream sundae in hand I decided to walk to a nearby wooden bench and sit down upon an old wooden bench and enjoy my frozen, creamy, and chocolate sauce drenched treat. The old wooden bench was located under the shade of an old Magnolia tree. The tree was supposed to   be over a hundred years old, having been planted when my hometown of Greenville was still a cluster of shops and houses hugging the banks of the Mississippi River. According to urban legend, the tree was planted when the railroad first came to Greenville. 

The bench overlooked a small playground, the playground was called Strawberry Field. Strawberry Field was a small park that had been built sometime around the late eighties. Ribbons of concrete sidewalk divided the park into sections. One section held an old, iron jungle gym, an old iron swing, a few bounce animals, and finally an old wooden fort.

Finally scattered around the area were some brick buildings, a brick house that housed the bathroom, and a wooden pavilion that had a row of vending machines. It was a pleasant place, the place where childhood memories were made. And today because of the blistering summer heat it was empty.

Settling down upon the old wooden bench, I took a deep breath and gazed out at the sun drenched playground. Once settled I started to dig into my sundae and the coolness of the treat was both refreshing and felt sinful. As I dug, my mind started to wander.

If playing as a girl in Pokemon, Animal Crossing, and now Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life was a form of wish fulfillment then what kind of girl would I be? And what name would I have? I had fallen in love with Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life, because not only could you play as a girl, but you could get married and have a child, either a boy or a girl depending on the season in which you got married.  You could then raise that child, who again would either be a boy or a girl into adulthood, that included watching such life milestones such as them starting school, developing a crush on one of the boys or girls in the village.

Once they started developing crushes you could watch them starting to date, and toward the end of the game you would see them leave the house to start their own career, get married and even have children of their own, making you a digital grandmother. It was the closest thing to being born a girl I thought I'll ever get to experience. Because you know it was impossible for me to experience having a period or experience getting pregnant, a fact that caused my heart to ache for some reason. 

Anyway, returning to my wandering, if I was a girl what kind of girl would I be? Would I be a girly-girl? Would I be the kind of girl that only shopped at Banana Republic, Abercrombie & Fitch , would all my underwear and bra's have to come from Victoria's Secret ? Would all my bath lotions, shamboo, soaps, and such have to come from Bath & Body Works ? Or would I be the Gothic girl who only shops at Hot Topic and the Underground ? You know the ones who are always seen wearing enough black eyeliner to make a racoon flush. Who always seemed to dress in nothing but black. Or was I the kind of girly-girl who loved pastal colors?

These were the questions that bothered me. Along with the fact that I would never get to experience the pains of going through a period or the joys of getting pregnant the wonder of giving birth to a living being thing. But we’ll save that for another time.

“But what would I call myself?” I said looking down at the now empty plastic cup.

And then as if to answer myself I remembered what I'd called myself since Pokemon Crystal. The name I'd chosen for myself was “Heather”. That tradition had carried over when I first started playing Animal Crossing and I had kept the tradition going strong when I started playing Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life. And then it dawned on me, I was “Heather”.

When I started writing Pokemon fanfiction the lead character had been a female trainer named Heather who, along with her faithful Cyndaquil had become the leading fire type trainer in the Johto region. Who battled her way through all eight gyms and then braved the perils of Victory Road and with skills of a seasoned tactician and the razor focus of a strategist she dethroned each member of the Elite fourth, she tossed their carefully chosen teams down upon red earth, ground them up and spat them up.

And once she was crowned champion she turned her eyes toward Kanto and one by one she added the gyms of Kanto to her growing list of conquests. Until at last she stood at the base of Mountain Silver.. there with her faithful team of fire Pokemon. A powerful Typhlosion, the fearsome Charizard, the majestic Rapidash, the graceful Ninetails, her fiercely brave and loyal Arcanine and last but not least her adorable Flareon she scaled the mountain and defeated the Pokemon Grand master himself Red.

As I recalled writing that story, focusing only on putting one word in front of the other and striving for it to make a lick of sense to be readable, to pass muster.. one question haunted me. And that question was one that caused me to shiver despite the heat. Had I really been writing about a character? Or had I been writing about how I would have wanted to live my life in the world of Pokemon?

Then onto Animal Crossing. It was a totally different game. It was a more tranquil game.. your only objective was to pay off the massive mortgage that the local loan shark tanuki pushes upon you. And how you do that is totally up to you. You're free to find your own path.. As Heather I'd spent countless summer days catching bugs to sell to pay off the mortgage, digging for fossils to sell to add to my long term saving account, and just fishing for fish. But again I did it as Heather..

“I guess.” I said taking a deep breath as took forced myself to stand up. One I was standing I walked over to a nearby trash can and tossed my empty cup and plastic spoon into it and slowly released my breath.

“I guess my name is 'Heather'.” And that sentence landed like a bomb shell. “And if I'm 'Heather' what does this mean for my writing? What does it mean for me? What does it mean for my sister? For my mother?” At this moment I was aware that I was asking these questions to the empty space in front of me. But I could not help myself. I had asked these questions, I had to get them out of my system.

“What does it mean to my future?” I said, sighing a little.

End Chapter 3