Anaya - Part 1

Large red rosebushes decorated the lawn in their full blooms. A cool breezed picked up their scent and carried it along its foray in the garden. Anaya’s nostrils picked up the scent as she played with her doll on the manicured grass. Her pink frock with tiny white flowers matched her doll’s, down to the matching panties. Pink, silk ribbons snaked down their shoulders as they held the ends of their dark pig tails. Anaya and the doll twirled in the middle of the sun-bathed garden until their head spun and they fell to the soft ground in a fitful of laughter. Her mother’s voice called out for teatime and Anaya ran up to the white table under a large white umbrella. She set her doll on the little chair next to her big one and sipped her milk, flavored with a dash of tea, from her pink cup.

Her mom’s phone played its movie theme from centuries ago until she answered it. Anaya balanced her cup in her small hands and chatted with her doll. The lull of her mother’s voice continued in the background for some time, rising in volume with each break in sentence. Soon the conversation was over, the phone set down on the table and Anaya saw tears stream down her mother’s cheeks.

Anaya was rushed indoors to her bedroom by helpers, her half empty cup of milk abandoned, her doll in her hand dangled, her mother’s teared stained face distorted. The next few weeks passed in a flurry with comings and goings of men in suits or uniforms, women from the village or far off lands. Trunks, boxes, suitcases lined the hallways, her dresses packed away with her parents’ things.

Finally, one day, before the sun lifted its head from its pillow, she was nudged to lift hers and set it on her father’s shoulders. Her eyes half open, she saw the dim corridor behind them become longer and darker, as if a deep tunnel. She felt the lulling bounce with her father’s urgent steps and fell asleep. When she finally opened her eyes, bright light greeted her accompanied by a buzz of activity. Large groups of people walked or rushed across the shiny floor and some groups even sat huddled in chairs with their baggage around them as a fort. Anaya slithered down her father’s hold and sat on the cold floor rubbing her eyes.  Her mother took hold of her hand and led her toward another tunnel, but this one had light emanating through it. Anaya realized that she was boarding an airplane and her family was going away. She began to cry for her doll and miraculously it appeared in front of her from her mother’s handbag.

To be continued...