Magnolia Blooms & Sakura Petals
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
Prologue
The whole house was asleep. Which afforded me a measure of privacy I did not have during the day. According to the wall clock on the kitchen wall it was twelve o' ten in the morning. A rerun of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex was playing in the background. And I was sitting at the family's computer. Trying my best to write something. I needed to write something. I had this burning desire to write something, I had ideas, but I did not have the voice.
But I guess at fourteen I was still developing that voice. At fourteen I was underweight, weighed around just under one hundred pounds, and stood little over five foot two and with shoulder length hair I was often mistaken as a girl. Which should have bothered me, but it didn't. Yes, I'd been bullied for my looks before, but one good elbow to the nose often sent a clear message. Also boys have an inherent weakness, the balls. One good swift kick in the balls is often enough to send even the most hardened country boy down to the ground.
There was something comical about watching a towering boy go down in front of you, with both his hands cupped, holding his balls as his eyes started to water and his friends took two or three steps back, the color having been drained from their faces, their eyes as wide as saucer plates, their eyebrows twitching in fear and their mouths curled into a smear of disbelief.
But none of that mattered now, what mattered was I could not write. And I wanted to write, a few months ago I'd created an account on Fanfiction.Net I'd wanted to share with the world or at least that very small corner of the internet my passion for writing. You see, I started writing two years ago when I was twelve. At that time I was struggling to read, and in order to help me read. Mom had brought me a Pokemon chapter book. Really it was Pokemon: I choose You! It was written by Tracey West. Now at the time I was obsessed with Pokemon.
How obsessed was I? Well I'd beaten the first three games and had captured, trained and caught all one hundred and fifty one of the first generation. And I'd gotten halfway to acquiring the additional one hundred Pokemon the second generation had introduced.
Something else the second generation had introduced to me that had really flipped my world upside. On my thirteen birthday my mother gifted me a new copy of Pokemon: Crystal which introduced the ground breaking feature of allowing you to choose either between starting your quest to become the premier Pokemon Master as a boy or a girl.
That had been the emotional catharsis that had triggered a massive landslide. What started out as a small, insufficient ball had quickly snowballed into a massive boulder the moment my mom had given me a used copy of Animal Crossing on my thirteenth birthday. For the first time I could choose to play not only as a girl but build from scratch a totally new digital life as a girl. It was around that time I started roleplaying on online forums. I did so as a girl.
As a girl I made friends with animals, as a girl I paid off a mortgage that was pushed on me by a loan-shark Tanuki. I dug for fossils, I furnished a house, I fished and built something of my own little world where I felt safe and secure. And the more I did it, the more I felt like I should have been born a girl all alone.
Now at fourteen, I felt at the bottom of my soul the stirring of something. Something I could not easily define. A desire to write, a desire to be free, a desire to be true to myself. A desire to become famous like my idol Kasuto of Kataan. A fanfiction writer who had written novel length fanfictions that focused on character Link, the main character in the Legend of Zelda series.
And under that current I felt moving something else, the desire to live as a girl. And compounding that maelstrom of emotions was the fact that I was suffering from a terrible writer's block.
But maybe the desire to write would be enough. Maybe life with all its trials, chances, and changes would provide me with the raw material I needed to really write. To write something people would not only read. But comment on. Something that one day I could turn into a full fledged novel. Because I wanted to write something besides just fanfiction.. I wanted to write original fiction.
End Prologue
Magnolia Blooms & Sakura Petals
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-1-
Carpe Diem
There is an often quoted Latin phase by the Roman poet Horace that was written around 23 BC. The quote goes like this. “Carpe diem, quam minium credula postero.” which means “Pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one.” It's often shortened to just “Carpe Diem.” Those famous words by that old Roman poet bounced around my head as I eased my bottom down into one of the four wooden chairs that surrounded the simple wooden table that sat in a quiet corner of the kitchen.
I'd gone to bed around midnight and had awoken around six o' clock that morning. The old cracked radio sitting on the kitchen counter had the station tuned into a National Weather Service broadcast. The broadcast was the same as it had been yesterday. The heatwave that plagued the Yazoo Delta for the better part of a week was still holding the region in its iron grip. The high for today would be around eighty eight with a heat index of a hundred and fifteen. The broadcast ended with a warning about heat stroke and a reminder to drink plenty of water, avoid working in the hottest part of the day, and be mindful of heat stroke.
“Bloody Hell.” I muttered under my breath as I switched the radio off.
The moment I turned the radio off was the moment my older sister decided to stroll into the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was her outfit, a charcoal pencil skirt, a white blouse, black heels and her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun. The second thing I noticed was the look on her face. She looked like she could chew up a whole ingot of iron and spit out a bucket worth of nails.
“Morning.” She said without looking up as she wrapped her perfect manicured fingers around the handle of the coffee pot. “You're up early.” She added as she lifted the pot from the burner and reached into the drainboard and pulled out a coffee mug. Without saying another word she poured a good measure of black coffee into her selected mug.
“Morning.” I said, returning the greeting.
“So.” My sister said as she lifted the mug of coffee to her lips and took a sip. “Mom is going to be working the night-shift tonight and for the next several nights in a row. Meaning she is going to fast asleep for most of the day. Which means you need to find something to do.”
“I could stay in my room.” I said, taking a deep breath. “Grind off paying my house mortgage in Animal Crossing. I still owe Tom Nook around 40,000 Bells.” I said, taking a deep breath.
My sister arched an eyebrow.
“How about this, the front lawn needs a good mow. You go ahead and mow the front lawn and the back and weed the flower beds and I'll give you a hundred and fifty dollars this evening. You know instead of pulling weeds and planting flowers in your video games, you can.. I don't know how to do it in real life?” My sister said, taking another sip of the coffee.
I blinked.
“You know I've been mowing lawns all week right?” I said, taking a deep breath. Which was true, at fourteen I was still too young to get an official part time job. And beside the thirty something dollars mom gave me each Friday for doing a number of odd jobs around the house, you know washing the windows, washing the families car, sweeping, mopping and such my only other source of income was mowing the lawns of the neighbors who were either too busy to do it themselves or too old.
“Yes, so you've gotten plenty of practice. Listen, I'm tired of the front yard looking like a bloody jungle. One hundred and fifty dollars in cash, this evening if I do it, and if not I'll find somebody else.” My sister then fixed me with a look. “So do we have a deal? Because I could easily find somebody else.”
I took a deep breath.
“Fine.” I said, taking a deep breath.
My sister grinned and then offered me the palm of her hand.
“Good, now shake on it.”
I blinked and reached across the table and shook my sister's hand. Now if this seems a little too formal you need to understand something. My sister is something of a shooting star. She is currently the floor manager for a local Belks.. a regional chain of department stores that span most of the south. She started working at Belks when she was sixteen shortly after dad left us. She worked for Belks part time each school year and full time between each summer break.
She also worked with them part time while she was going for her Associate of Business Administration from Holmes Community College and was now working for them as a floor manager as she pushes toward her Bachelor's of Business Administration from Delta State University. She was prone to treating everything like a business deal.
“Okay, one last thing I want to remember. It is going to be around a hundred and ten today for the high. Sunny, no cloud coverage, it's going to be brutal. Drink plenty of water, wear loose clothing, wear a sunhat. Put on sunscreen. Watch out for fire ant mounds.” She paused. “If you get too hot, stop, come inside and drink plenty of water, get a cold shower and lay down.”
I blinked.
“Okay..” I paused. “One hundred and fifty dollars right?”
“One hundred and fifty dollars, in cash.. you know what I'll throw in an extra ten dollars if you trim the bushes.” She added as she peered into my eyes.
Now, returning to the quote I shared with you at the start. Money was the sinew of any great adventure. Adventuring did not come cheap. I learned that from playing Pokemon. Key items such as PokeBall's, Potions, Full Heals and other required gear required a steady supply of money. Money that was earned by defeating rival trainers on the road. Money the player had to carefully manage.
Why do I bring this up? Because my sister was not giving me a chore to do, she was giving me a quest, a quest with a reward at the end. And that money could be used as sinew in the adventure I was about to start. And who knows, maybe a day of brutal yard-work would be the pill the doctor would prescribe to purge me of writer's block.
End Chapter One.
Magnolia Blooms & Sakura Petals
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-2-
Chocolate Sunde
I took a deep breath. According to the army green wrist watch I always wore on my wrist the time was around two thirty in the afternoon. I'd been mowing grass, pulling weeds, and pruning bushes for a good five hours now. It was now in the hottest part of the day and I was thankfully I'd just finished the job. Dripping sweat I took a shallow breath and sat down upon the concrete steps of our front porch and peered out at the sun drenched vista that spread out in front of me.
“Well.” I said, taking a deep breath. “That chore is done.” The yard work did indeed have the desired effects on me. I could feel two or three story ideas tugging at the back of my brain and I could sense that strong desire to write coming back over me. But while I was mowing, trimming and kneeling down into the hot earth on my knees to pull out the weeds by the roots so they would not return. While I was doing all that, somebody or something had come down and planted an idea in my head.
The idea both intrigued and frightened me. Like I've told you all before, I enjoy playing video games where you can choose between either playing as a boy or a girl. And for several years I've been playing as a girl. Anyway it dawned on me that maybe I wanted to play as a girl because maybe I really wanted to be a girl and playing as a girl I was doing some form of wish fulfillment.
That led me to another question.. if I wanted to be a girl, maybe I should try to live like a girl? Like maybe go to the mall dressed as a girl? Maybe try to experience normal teenage girl things like a girl? That leads to another question. And that question was one that made me really think. Could I not only dress like a girl, but could I pass as a girl? And if I could pass as a girl could be social as a girl?
All of these thoughts swirled around my head like a swarm of angry bees.
Then I heard a melody that caused my heart to jump into my throat. It was a melody every child on our block knew by heart. A jingle that many in Greenville considered to be the national anthem of summer. It was the melody that belonged to that most stable of childhood songs. “Do your ears hang low?” the melody that every ice cream van across this great patchwork of states played to announce its presence.
And well an ice cream cone seemed like a wonderful treat. And I had a few loose coins in my pocket alone with a few crumbled up one dollar bills. And so without thinking I started toward the concrete curb. The normal spot where the ice cream van seemed to pull up and set up shop for the fifteen or twenty minutes he spent here in this little neighborhood. On a whim I reached up and removed the elastic hairband from my hair and shook it out.
I wanted to see if I could pass a girl. After all, I was wearing a tank top that was pastel blue, and shorts that were white. The shoes I'd been working in were some old sneakers I'd found on clearance down at a charity shop and by chance those sneakers were pink. So to summon it up, I was wearing a pastel blue tank top, white shorts, and pink sneakers that need a good soaking and wash.
And so feeling brave I ventured toward the curb. And just as I feared about the time I reached the curb it seemed half the kids and adults in the neighborhood had turned out to get ice cream, the line seemed a mile and half long. I took a deep breath and muttered that the line would move swiftly along. But I was wrong, the line just inched along and seemed to move slower than Christmas.
The minutes seemed to slowly tick by and the line kept moving at a snail's pace. Until at last I reached the open hatch of the Ice cream van. Leaning out of the hatch was a woman with hazel colored eyes. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she looked tired. The woman looked down at me and then took a deep breath.
“Hey kiddo.” She said, forcing a smile to appear across her tired face. “What can I get for you?”
“I would like a large soft-serve vanilla ice cream sundae.. with chocolate sauce..” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Sure. Would you like whipped cream or chopped peanuts, or both?” She said, leveling her gaze at me.
“Are they extra?” I asked, taking a deep breath as I weighed the running total with the small amount of money I had in my pocket.
“Normally that would be an extra dollar seventy five.. but you're a cutie so I'm going to put on the house.” She said grinning.
“Okay! I'll whip cream and chopped peanuts, please and thank you ma'am!” I said my face was lighting up.
“OMG.” The girl said laughing. “Cute and you have manners. You're just a junior southern belle in training, you know that?” The sales woman said with a broad smile. “Okay.. your total comes to four dollars and fifty cents.” She said,
I felt my cheeks blooming with color as I reached down into the pocket of my shorts and pulled out a fading Hello Kitty coin purse. I'd brought the coin purse from a local charity shop. At the time I needed a coin purse to keep my loose pocket change in. The fact the purse was pink and featured the face of an iconic white cat with a pink boy did not seem to register at the moment.
“OMG that coin purse is also adorable!” The sales woman said. “I used to love Hello Kitty, heck I still do, she is totally adorable!”
Once again I felt my cheeks flush red as I unzipped the purse and pulled out a collection of carefully folded one dollar bills and a collection of small change. Slowly I counted out four dollars and fifty cents. I then handed the money to the girl who handed me a large plastic bowl that held a large chocolate sundae that was topped with what seemed like a flowing river of rich, dark chocolate sauce and fluffy clouds of whipped cream and sprinkled with brown chopped peanuts.
“Thank you.” I said blushing.
As I stepped away from the window I paused. I felt something was missing.
“Pardon me!” I said still flushing red. “I need a spoon!” I said taking a deep breath.
“Oh sorry about that!” The woman said as she reached down and pulled out a plastic spoon. “Been a busy day! Have a good one!”
“You too!” I said stepping to the side.
And then it hit me, I'd passed. Without meaning too I'd somehow passed. Well that answered one question, but left me with a few other questions that needed to answered.
End Chapter 2.
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