There is a story in everything. In ever sight, every sound, every smell there is a story; you just have to be willing to tell it. I lay under an autumn tree, gazing up through the branches. Patches of sky can be seen through the thinning leaves. Those that have already fallen rest underneath me, softening the ground.
I watch as a slight breeze picks a single leaf and breaks it off the tree. Its golden brown hue glitters in the sun as it dances above me. I wonder what that leaf’s story is. The beauty and mystery behind it is there, but where is the story? I find my role as the storyteller to be far too difficult at that moment. It is not enough to write of the sharp edges, the rusty color, and the holes within like eyes that stare back. Somewhere inside the one leaf is a story completely lost to me.
My frustration is broken when the leaf covers the sun, hiding it from my sight. I laugh recalling a day long gone. Isaac, a childhood friend, plays in the front yard of my house as I sit on the porch. Calling for me to follow, Isaac runs around the corner of the house and out of sight. Quickly I move around to the side of the house and see him lying on the ground. With a leaf in his hand he raises it up to his face moving further and closer to his eye.
I stand over him watching his odd motions with a curious look, when he pats the ground beside him inviting me. I lie down beside him and he turns towards me and places the leaf over my eye. He moves his head close to mine to make sure he moves the leaf just right and then lifts it up. As his hand and the leaf both raise further away from my face, they cover the sun. The light pierces the leaf like film and I can almost see through it. Within this one leaf are veins as complicated and diverse as those within me.
Then as Isaac brings the leaf back down to my face the color changes from light pale to a dark rich green. The bigger veins become more pronounced while the smaller ones seem to disappear behind the shadows. The leaf and Isaac’s hand rest upon my face. I shiver slightly at the tickling sensation of both and laugh. Lifting away from my face, the leaf brushes across it and I move along with the feeling. I find myself looking over at Isaac who stares back smiling, as he lies close beside me.
My daydream is broken and I am pulled back under the tree. The breeze died and the leaf slowly falls to the ground. Spinning round and round it falls closer and closer to me. The circular motion is hypnotizing. My eyes follow the spinning leaf as it tumbles over showing its two colored sides. The first was the golden brown I saw as it was pulled from the tree. Though brown, it does not seem dirty or splotched. Its opposite side is a bright red that pulses in the sun’s warmth.
The leaf, blown by a light breeze, spins in place quickly. The red swirls together in one dizzying circle I am lost in thought again. I am driving on a two-lane highway just as the sun is setting. It is raining fairly hard, and the wind whips around the car. The intensity of the wind the trees are almost all devoid of leaves, as they litter the roadway.
Slowly I begin to pass a car on my right. In the back I see a young girl dancing around in her seat to an unheard song. Her scarlet hair moves back and forth across her face until she stops to look over at my car. She sees me watching her dance and gives me a big smile and waves frantically. Slightly embarrassed at being caught, I give a small smile and wave back.
She turns her head back around and all I can see is her bright red hair. Suddenly my car slips on a large patch of wet leaves. I spin out and lose control. In the moment of fear I can’t remember to turn in or out of the spin. My body is whipped around the seat, I hear a loud crash and everything stops. I can feel pieces of glass that shattered and stuck into my skin. My vision is blurred and I try hard to refocus but to no avail. A trickle of blood flows down my face.
Finally focusing directly in front of me I realize that the front of my car has smashed into the back passenger side of another and in the window is a single hand sprawled palm up. I am not sure if it is feeling all the stress of the situation, the fear of the accident all coming down at once or the sight of that little hand so motionless, but at that moment I break down crying. I am completely unable to move, hoping if I sit motionless the situation will disappear and it will all just be a terrible nightmare. I want so much for that hand to make some movement, I need it to be waving at me once more, otherwise the implication is to terrible for me to even begin to understand.
I am brought back to the present by the touch of the leaf as it falls upon my face. It rests right under my eye and wipes away the single tear that had fallen. I take the leaf in my hand and twirl it between my thumb and forefinger. I sigh staring at the red side of the leaf thinking back at that little girl. I visit her mother, who was driving, almost once a week now. She never once blamed me for what happened. I think she knew how much I blamed myself and saw no point in causing me more pain.
Unable to look at the color any longer I flip it over and think back to the day I spent with Isaac. It had been an amazing day for me, and one in which I will never forget. I no longer speak to Isaac; the years had separated us a long time ago. But every time I find myself with a leaf in my hand I put it up to a light and stare at the intricate details within. I laugh as the veins disappear and reappear, now, moving it closer and further away from my eye.
There is so much within this one leaf, the multiple lines that show just how detailed even the smallest life can be. Even the varying colors reflect the complexity that one leaf can have two sides at all times. Again twirling the leaf in my fingers I smile despite myself. Who would have known the leaf’s story was my own?
The Fall for a Silent Voice
