Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Two | Peony

"I have lost myself in the sea many times with my ear full of freshly cut flowers, with my tongue full of love and agony."
-Federico García Lorca, excerpt of 'Gacela De La Huida'

• • •

Bailey Swan's first impression upon crossing the county line dividing Forks from La Push consisted of a nostalgic sigh and a wayward thought. It feels just like home, she concluded. Then she remembered:

Home was long gone now.

But the red clay roads and sense of close-knit community proved aspects she had long grown intimately familiar with, and with the window rolled down and the upper half of her body hanging haphazardly out of the open space, she relished in the earthy smell of the brisk breeze that brushed her golden curls wildly about her face as she passed the Reservation homes one-by-one. Bella -whom, despite only being a year older, constantly coddled her younger sibling as if she were still just a child- repeatedly called for Bailey to sit back down in her seat.

"Bailey Wrennyn Swan!" Said older sibling exclaimed loudly, yanking the younger girl down into her seat with a harsh tug on the arm. "Sit down and stay down," she demanded as if scolding an unruly puppy. "Charlie would kill me if you got hurt on your first day back!"

Bailey flashed her sister a sheepish smile and sunk lower into the worn passenger seat cushion. "Sorry," she conceded quietly, head lowered in such a way that resembled a bashful toddler. "I've just never gotten to ride in the front seat before."

Unable to stay mad with such big blue eyes staring up at her from beneath such long dark lashes, Bella sighed and deflated visibly. "I know, Bay." A ghost of a smile carved its way up onto the corners of her lips. "I know it's probably annoying having us baby you all the time too, but you're just so small," she explained. "The fact that you're even clumsier than I am doesn't help your case either."

And truer words had never been spoken, because while Bailey Swan was entirely too small for a seventeen year old girl, she was also entirely too clumsy for a girl who otherwise moved with such grace. All her life she had been slight and petite -her Gran had claimed her a fairy because of it- with tiny feet and even tinier hands. Standing upwards of five foot by only three quarters of an inch, she appeared as delicate and dainty as a flower, and with a sweet, melodic voice that was as soft as air, she lived up to her namesake with her likeness to a songbird just as her middle name implied. Because of these traits however, Bailey had been kept sheltered by not only her beloved Gran but her estranged mother, distant father, and quiet sister as well. Her shy and sweet disposition alluded to a naivety most people either instantly adored or easily took advantage of, so in the hopes of appeasing the protective urge she invoked in each one of her family members upon her birth into their lives, they took it upon themselves to keep her confined to their set parameters of the world that they deemed safe -of which the front seat of any moving vehicle failed to make the cut. According to Charlie -as the renowned 'safety-Steve' his police enforcement background influenced him to be- the safest place in a car was the middle of the back seat, thus birthing Bailey's endless longing to experience not only the passenger seat of a vehicle but the driver's seat as well. One day she would drive, she reminded herself constantly. One day she would be allowed to obtain a license.

However, the front passenger seat of Bella's old chevy pickup would suffice for the moment.

After several more minutes of puttering along with the knock of the Diesel engine providing steady music in the background, Bella finally pulled into the driveway of a cosy little home Bailey only recognized from the pictures hanging on Charlie's living room walls. It was quaint and old, slightly rundown with obvious wear-and-tear, but otherwise characteristic in nature. Like all the other homes they had passed whilst on the Reservation, it housed a considerable amount of junk piled off to the left side of the porch where a makeshift structure had been scrounged together to form what closely resembled that of a garage. The walls seemed to lean precariously and the tin roof appeared more rust than tin, but Bailey found herself smiling at the familiarity it brought her upon resemblance to the more rundown side of Sky City she had grown up across the street from the majority of her life. It was homely and warm, inviting, and as she hopped down from the high cab of the pickup after Bella gestured her to exit, a sense of comfort found a resting place in her chest. It may not have been her home, but for some reason she failed to identify, it felt close to it.