Me and Patchouli Proud

I personally love this story because it incorporates science fiction, young love, suspense and loss. I'm a softy.

   

It was on a bright, starry night that the traveling circus rolled into our town, a dusty little place out of the way in New Mexico.  I recall that night because the night before an unidentified flying object had ceased flying. The object fell to earth and was forever unidentified. Oh sure, of course I would recall that night because I fell in love the very next day.

After the war, my mother’s factory job dried up, and she couldn’t bear living in Detroit any longer. So during the winter, my mother and I had moved to New Mexico. Mother said the two of us could start renewed, but I hated the stark, nearly colorless and inhospitable red-brown dirt landscape of sagebrush, yuccas, and cacti.

 On that singular day, our drab, dull tumbleweed hometown became a bustling place that would put it on the map for all of history. Brightly colored circus activities and roaring U.S. Army vehicles mixed and filled our downtown. My mother fell into one of her states over seeing the men in uniform, but I drank in the onslaught of sights and sounds with glee. I had no idea of true enchantment until I saw a particular girl, but frankly, I didn’t see her right away, I smelled her.

I had been to the circus site while they set up the big top, and the smell of elephant and lion dung permeated my nose. At the soda shop, I smelled that distinctive odor again. I took another deep breath and tipped my feet aside one at a time wondering if I had stepped in something. I looked up to see a dark-haired beauty with piercing blue eyes and matching dungarees. How fitting, I thought.      

“I know I smell,” she said with a smile that melted me. “I saw your nose, ah working.”

I couldn’t speak, so I stood there until I became entirely self-conscious and looked at the floor.

“Here’s your chocolate malted,” said the soda jerk to her.

He said something to me, but I deemed it unimportant as she pursed her lips around the tip of the straw. She kept sipping but pointed.

“Hey! What’ya have?” he asked again.

“Oh, ah,” I glanced back and forth. “The same.” 

She invited me to sit with her. All I could think of was that she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She giggled at my shyness and told me she was the Ringmaster’s daughter, but he made her clean up after the elephants so to not show favored treatment. Halfway through my malt, I managed to think clear enough to ask her name.

“Patchouli Proud,” she said with a headshake.

“Nice name,” I said and told her mine.

“Are you coming to the show?”

“Yes. YES! Are you in it?”

“Sort of. I fill in here and there, but Father won’t let me do anything exciting like high-wire or animal taming. Did you go to the crash?”

Her abruptness caught me by surprise. “No, did you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I went with Merry and Terry.” She bent so close I could feel her warm breath. “We snuck in real close, but those nasty Army men chased us away.”

“My father was in the Army,” I said. “He didn’t come back.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Lots of kids lost their dads, but mothers feel it worse.”

“Your mom?”

I nodded. “All these army guys don’t help.”

“Hmm, hmm,” she understood. “My mom’s gone; so dad, well, he runs the circus.”

 That’s what we had in common; single parents, that is. She loved the circus life but was sheltered by her ringmaster father. I thought it odd but knew I loved Patchouli right away even though I had to crane my neck to look her in the face. Later, I dragged mother out of bed, and we watched Patchouli in action, dressed up as a girly clown and then cleaning up after the animals. I went to every single show and spent every other second with her.

 On the fourth day, Patchouli woke me before sunrise. The day was different. The sky was thick with clouds, and she looked unhappy.

“We’re pulling stakes today,” she said. “Leaving.”

I already knew.     

“Come on! Our last chance.” She took me by the hand, and we ran to the crash site. Only a few soldiers remained. We snuck around a hill and saw where they had been digging. The clouds let loose their stored up rain"hard!

“Let’s see what they were doing,” she pointed to a hollow. We were soaked in no time and searched around but found nothing, so we gave up.

Crawling over a bank, she said, “Wait! Look at this.” She held a small piece of metal. She folded it up, but it instantly unfolded without a crease.

“Wow, cool.”

“Here you have it,” she handed it to me but took my hand, drew me in, and kissed me there in the pouring rain.

“Thanks,” I said breathlessly.

“Goodbye,” Patchouli said. “I have to go. You too.”  

“I know.”

My eyes teared, but I didn’t care. We ran in separate directions but stopped once to wave. When I got home, my mom was standing out in the rain.

“I was worried,” mom said. “that you ran away with Patchouli to join the circus.”

“No mom, I couldn’t do that to you.”

 I showed her the metal, and she smiled for the first time in a long time. Mom hugged me, turned me around, and pointed.

 “Look!”

 I suddenly saw that the cacti, yucca, and sage had all bloomed colorful and bright because and despite the heavy rain. My heart made me understand what my my mother felt ever since dad didn't come home.  

  

Author's Note

Sometimes, I can write a good story. Tell me if this is one of them. Does it work?