Pathways

He had first encountered her in the 2nd class when they were 7 years old.   Her family had moved to the city from the west and she came to the school one day and was put sitting beside him for no reason other than that is the way the universe works sometimes. She loved arts and crafts and was always doing little drawings on her school books, which got her into all sorts of trouble with Ms. O'Keefe.  But she just smiled back at Ms. O'Keefe which disarmed the teacher somewhat and she was talked about in the teacher's common room as being a charming but strange little thing - maybe best left to her own devices.  But Ms. O'Keefe secretly thought she was a special little girl but knew that academically she would not go far.

Ms. O'Keefe asked the class what they would like to be when they were older.   She sensibly asked them to consider not only their career, but where they would want to live, how they would see family life, what would they do that would make them happy.

Ms. O'Keeefe,   Ms. O'Keefe   said the raggle taggle twinkly little girl excitedly.    Oh Ms. O'Keefe, I want to teach little children arts and crafts,   I want to paint many pictures, I want a little family, I want to live in a tiny house near the sea,     Well well little one, said teacher, that's more talking than you have done in the last month.   And she smiled outwardly and inwardly, because she was so fond of the girl and wondered would any of this come true for her.

But the boy simply could not understand her.    She was very creative and could have won all the prizes at the school and local craft competitions - but she simply had no interest in  competing, to her it was a waste of time and an unnecessary distraction.  He had been encouraged at a young age to be competitive - his parents were high achieving professionals and his father wanted him to take over the family law practice when he graduated.  His destiny was mapped out for him and he  never considered challenging their expectations even once. 

As expected he passed his exams with high marks and proved to be a brilliant lawyer - bordering sometimes on the ruthless (he knew this but could never really justify it).  He became wealthy with homes in the city and France.     He mixed with the high society crowd and loved the lifestyle he had.    But sometimes he had to forego his principles in his work and somewhere - deep down inside him - he regretted this.  He had little time for hobbies although he loved paintings and often purchased expensive works of art on internet auctions.  His family life was complicated and he was not happy in his personal affairs. He had made some bad decisions in his relationships and if he was to be honest, he was lonely and knew that he would ultimately be alone.

When he was in his late fifties, at  that age when many become world weary and cynical (and he found himself sometimes being that way), he was called upon to visit an elderly client who had moved to a convalescent home 200 miles up the coast.   She was one of his first clients and although he didn't make much money from his dealings with her, he gave her all the time and consideration she required because he was fond of her.   

It was a pleasant afternoon when he arrived up the coast.  He was booked into a small hotel and decided to take a walk before his early dinner.

And then he saw her.   In this small school room, there she was.   He recognised her immediately.  She was older, of course, but the raggle, taggle, twinkle had not faded.   She wore a dress of an indescribaly beautiful colour and she pointed to a piece of art as she described it to her class.     The children sat in the classroom where the walls were covered in their artwork and they were painting and chatting and laughing as they did their work.

He stared at her through the window and he longed to talk to her and ask her about herself. But he knew he would not do this.  He wanted to stand there forever and just gaze at her but his practical, legal mind knew that this would not happen.

He turned and walked back to his hotel and prepared the papers he needed to talk to his elderly client in the morning.


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This is a short story I wrote about a year ago and forgot about it.    I stumbled upon it when I was deleting stuff from the computer to free up space recently.    I am entering it in a competition (when I tidy it up a bit).   My blip is a miniature of one of my favourite Van Gogh's paintings.   It is called Cypress Tree and Star.     I have included a link to the original.  Isn't it hauntingly beautiful.   It was painted in 1890 - the last one he painted in St. Remy de Provence.   In my blip of 29th October, I had wanted to get a rough outline of this painting as it is the one she is showing the children. 
 
The canvas is about 8cms x 5cms - my entry for tiny tuesday.  

My blip of 29th October which is very rough and unpolished, I'm afraid.
https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2635934127244709780


Link to the original painting by Van Gogh
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Road_with_Cypress_and_Star