She was what they called a fitty; charming as any orchid or chrysanthemum that ever grew on this very universe. Her hair was fine, in style of a bob; silk wavy curls that shaped her round face. Her smile was sometimes there; only when she found something so intriguing she would take the risk and form a curve at the end of her mouth. And when she didn't think anyone noticed...it would be me, captivated by it. It was like her red lipstick dimple smile made the world a whole lot more interesting place. The girl was in fond of sunflower dresses that would stop at her ankles, which fit her tall figure; she made the dress come alive to dance around her shape, swaying back and forth as she roamed the earth inch by inch. Her skin was another thing. Pure and fair. And her eyes...well, that was always a mystery.
She would be struck as odd if she would ever reveal herself with an open book on campus. The young lady would always be known as the gal in back of the cafe in the garden learning words as long as her index finger; perfecting her english day by day like it was blinking. She was fast, every morning I would see her with a different novel, some were the famous classics and others were romantic love stories by the French.
Being that the cafe was at its prime in the mornings, because of the alluring outside garden; she would get there earlier than the rest of the general public. She loved to watch the sunrise before reading and that's when I fell in love with the outside garden. Seeing the sun rise upon her face, watching her nose trickle as the sun kissed her eyelids and skin. She was like the morning sun itself. This may seem like stalking, but I find it to be called something else. A theory. The four letter word would be too serene because how I feel for this woman is too ecstatic.
She places her fingers on the rose petals that are rolled up around the bench she is sitting on. Her gaze meets mine and smirks. “Are you the owner of Cafe de la spirit?”
I blink twice with the lick of my dry lips, realizing she was actually talking to me. Then I notice, no one is paying attention to her but me.
“U-Uh, no...but I am the son of the owner.”
“Ah! Well, tell your father adding this garden was the best thing he could ever do for this old cafe.” She implies, closing her book.
I move from the table of wood I was sitting at and walk towards her to catch a seat next to her.
“You honestly didn't have to move.”
“Well, we are having a conversation. I just thought it’ll be easier if I moved closer to hear you speak.”
Her eyes squint as her insides consume an hmph.
“Im David.”
“So, David, why do play that little guitar in the mornings?”
“My ukulele?”
“Sure, the ukulele.”
“I don't know really. I sometimes get inspired by the sunrise and I just play with how I feel. Does it sound okay?”
“Well, if must know...no. I think you are in need for lessons.”
I took a deep breath and accepted, “Yes maybe so, but why should I need lessons if I already know how to play it. You know what’s the trick?”
“I'm dying to know.” she sarcastically remarks.
I place my fore finger to my chest. “It's from the heart. Play from the heart and it’ll just flow as beautifully as it can flow. Because my mama said so, “Doesn't matter how it sounds, it's how you feel when you're playing the tune.” and in that moment I didn't care.”
“Hmm, and every morning you play for who?”
“The sun.” I lie with a grin.
She grins back as if she knew i was keeping something from her.
“That's just peachy.”
“You think so?”
“Sure! Everyone needs a tune, why not the sun?”
“You know, you are completely different than what I portrayed you’d out to be.”
“Ha, well, you know my mama said, “unique ain't so bad every once in awhile, it's good for the soul.” she grooms her dress as she crosses her legs.
“I don't disagree.”
She moves her head swiftly to left and to the right, searching. She finally ask if I happen to know where her hat went. Shortly but surely we found out the wind was playing its tricks with the Maiden's hat.
We leap to our feet and race to the blowing hat. It drifts towards the apple tree and settles as if it knew we were chasing after it. I reached for it; stumbling around the tree's roots. It took me a minute to realize the lady who had something for big novels was on the other end of the tree; holding her part of the floppy hat. She smiled, showing off her whites. She was exquisite up close.
I let go of her hat with a gentle nod.
She nods in return and puts her hat back on her head and moves her wedge heels out of the dirt.
“I should go.” she says under her breath as she looks down at her feet.
I detach myself from the apple tree and respond as she walks away, “Hey bibliophile!”
She turns around, eyes in haze, “yes, musicophile?”
I chuckle to her response. “Uh I had a really nice time talkin’ to ya.”
“Elizabeth Baylor.” she pauses, “My name. I did too have a wonderful time with you...David.”
Elizabeth picks up her book; just slightly, she takes a glance at me for a second and drops the book, leaving it on the bench of stone.
“Read it. Its good. Maybe it'll teach you a thing or two.” she shouts.
“Thank you.” I shout back.
While she walked off inside I run to retrieve the book of hers and I open it to realize it wasn't one. It was picture book.
With the photography of me.
I run back inside to discover that Elizabeth was nowhere to be found. My father stares at me in confusion...His eyes travel down to see the book in my hands and he gives me his grant laugh, “I see she finally built up the courage to give you that. She's a great photographer, yeah?”
And now i'm in confusion. He knew?
“Yeah. She is.”
He winks at me and resumes cleaning the glasses the folks left behind along with their tips.
“Oh, by the way...there is a note in the back.” He mentions.
I quickly open the book to the last page and there it was; the note. I open it slowly. It read:
Thanks for noticing me. Now it's only fair if I capture the beauty I see too.
-E
