Isis Carter, with Nevaeh Reed
April 30, 2016 4:22 AM
Sunset by Isis Carter, with Nevaeh Reed
Sunset was fast encroaching, the waves of pink and orange rolling farther out onto the horizon, across the vast plantlife that occupied the Labyrinth Gardens. Isis didn’t spend a lot of nights like this, more often found off of school grounds on Saturday evenings like this. But tonight, she hadn’t felt much like going out. The only problem was that she also hadn’t felt much like staying in, either, uncharacteristically claustrophobic in her new office.So instead, she took a stroll. The Gardens were a place that provided great joy for a variety of reasons, many of them related to the large man often found tending them. And she was in need of great joy, because, for whatever reason, she felt rather empty tonight. Isis was not a terribly happy person--never had been and had no reason to believe that would change--but this was…. different, somehow. She wasn’t quite sure what had caused this funk, but then again, causes didn’t matter when compared to their effects.
To her content, the walk seemed to help break the funk, at least a little. Isis found a bench and lowered herself to it, her body language suggesting someone much older than she was. She had never felt young, having taken on too much when she was a kid and now complacent in the lingering stress. That was part of why she liked Amelle so much: when they were together, Isis actually got to feel young.
She watched the Gardens dance, a light wind tugging on the flowers and begging them to perform. And they did, swaying gently, like little ballerinas with their toes nailed down. But they danced nonetheless, aware they could not move and yet moved anyway, technically motionless but waving in their position. There was something beautiful about it. Maybe Isis was just getting sentimental.
Her perfect nature scene was interrupted by another person, a little girl who had her chin and was led by a German Shepard. Isis sat upright immediately. “Nevaeh? What are you doing out here?”
Nevaeh stopped, turning to face the direction from which the sound had originated. “Just taking Scout for a walk before curfew,” she answered. Isis glanced around and saw the sunset fleeting, the pink and orange she was so fond of being quickly replaced by navy and black. “What, um…. What about you?”
The nervous expression on Nevaeh’s face was clear: she too was dancing, tiptoeing along the complex web between them. Outside of class, when no one was around, how were they to treat one another? They were certainly more than student and staff, but their second (or really, their first) relationship to one another was nothing if not strained. They had never even met, as far as Nevaeh could remember despite definitively knowing it was not accurate, until Isis had showed up at the Reeds’ house to talk about Sonora. But there was still that extra something there, quiet and hidden to most, the blood pumping through their veins that tied them together.
“I thought I’d get some fresh air,” Isis returned, her voice gentle, her light smile almost audible, as it needed to be. “So, are you excited for the new school year?” she added weakly.
“...Look, I was, uh… I’m just leaving,” Nevaeh said awkwardly, the hand not holding Scout’s harness rising, hand running over the back of her neck. “So we can… I’ll see you later.” With that, Nevaeh and her guide dog headed off, leaving Isis alone with her ballet. But the breeze had ceased, and nothing danced anymore. The air was still, and she was alone.
The Pecari Head of House leaned back against the bench, allowing herself to sink slightly as she reflected. She felt pretty confident in her abilities to do her job, but she seemed to blow this…. other role at every turn, wasting every opportunity. Admittedly, it was hard to blossom a relationship that almost no one knew about, but there was a constant struggle. Isis never knew for certain what she was meant to do. When Nevaeh was approaching school age, she had asked the Reeds to send her here so that she could keep an eye on her, but with their little secret mostly maintained, it was difficult to do much about it. Isis wanted to be there for Nevaeh, to be more than just some lady on staff, but what could she do?
She did not want to reveal their association partially for the judgment of Nevaeh’s peers, many of whom were from the stuffy, society families who condemned anything “improper” (read: different). But another portion was for the judgment of Isis’s coworkers, not that she thought any of them would really think less of Nevaeh for Isis’s mistakes, but she hated to imagine them looking at her differently for things out of her control, the concerned or perhaps even piteous looks to much to bear. Nevaeh already had one disability: Isis did not want to become another.
The sky was getting blacker, but Isis remained on the bench, telling herself that she would move when the stars were visible. She sighed audibly as her dark brown eyes settled upon a single star. “Better make a wish,” she told herself. “You’re probably gonna need it.”
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Isis Carter, with Nevaeh Reed
Sunset
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Isis Carter, with Nevaeh Reed
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