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A New Adventure

Daisies for Bonnie.

By Sara ZaidiPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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The apartment, if such a small dwelling could be called an apartment, was actually the top floor of an old book shop on the corner of Church and Old Lovelace. Most buildings on the block had long since been abandoned but the shop remained open. Its plate glass window was simply stamped with the word “BOOKS” in fading gold paint.

The room itself was dark with hardwood floors. The only natural light came in through a round window above the kitchenette. There were old storage boxes and junk of all sorts crammed into every nook and cranny, and cobwebs hung from the rafters like streamers. The air smelled of mothballs and dust.

Heaven thought Bonnie as she dressed her new single bed wedged in the far corner. Edgar, her new landlord, had warned her of the mess. “It’s fully furnished, my dear, but there are so many old boxes up there I’m afraid you’ll hardly have space for yourself. I haven’t had time to call in a cleaning service yet, you see.”

“I don’t mind sorting through it,” Bonnie replied, earnestly. “If I should find something rare or valuable, I’ll ring you straight away. I’d just like a quiet place of my own to read and write. The mess is no bother to me at all.”

“Rare or valuable?” he laughed. “The most I think you’ll find is old receipts and ledgers. You can throw them out if you like. Everything is electronic these days, even in a small shop like mine.”

With his blessing Bonnie set herself to moving in. She had precious little to move. A few cherished books from her childhood, her journals, a little linen and clothing. That was all she had to her name ever since her mother had passed away. That, a few thousand dollars’ worth of medical debt, and a student loan she could hardly wrap her head around.

Once upon a time Bonnie had thought herself the adventurous sort. She’d wanted to discover the world a little bit at a time. That could mean seeing a new art exhibit, trying a new ice cream parlor, or taking a weekend trip to the next town over just to see what was different about it; anything really. She’d had an insatiable thirst to be out there doing and seeing. It was an exciting way to live.

She did not think herself adventurous anymore. A small, good life in a quiet place was all she wanted nowadays. She’d learned the hard way that stability was far more important than adventures. Besides, she thought, when she had enough saved up she’d buy a laptop computer. Then she could go on adventures from the safety of her own bedroom. That was all the excitement she needed.

Bonnie put the kettle on the stove, and then took to scrubbing the floors with a hard bristle brush until they shone even in the dim light. A few lamps wouldn’t go amiss, she thought. But only in a few weeks when her next pay was due. For the time being even light was a luxury item. She had to watch her every penny.

At seven in the evening Bonnie sat down to a meagre supper of cup noodles and saltines. She had been through a dozen of the storage boxes so far, but with the sun going down it was too dark to read the small print on the documents. Although she found it was unexpected fun to open each box as though it were a time capsule and imagine her surroundings as they would have been in years gone by.

Edgar had been right. There were hand-written receipts for sales, accounting ledgers, and inventory forms. But there were also letters, newspapers, holiday greeting cards, and photographs so old they had yellowed with age. These she stacked neatly in a pile, certain that Edgar would want to preserve such precious keepsakes. She thought about phoning him up in the morning. A knock at the door saved her the trouble.

“Bonnie dear,” Edgar said, bending as he passed through the low doorway. “I’d forgotten just how dark it gets up here. I’ve brought you a few table lamps for now. The electrician will be in to put some overheads up next week.”

“Thank you, Edgar,” Bonnie said with a smile. Once the room was bathed in brightness Edgar took in the changes she’d made in a single afternoon. “This is wonderful! I never realized how big it was up here!”

“I’m glad I get to live here. This is just what I was looking for. And I can’t beat the price. You do know…,” she began hesitantly. She’d always been an honest girl at heart, so she braced herself and followed through. “You do know that you could get more than what you’re charging me. A lot more. I don’t want you to feel used, times being hard for us all right now…”

Times were hard. This she knew firsthand. First there were the medical treatments her mother had needed. And when they failed there was the funeral to be paid for. The house was gone, as were her paltry savings. She’d slept in her car for a week. It had been terrifying, having no one to turn to in her hour of need.

Then she’d met Edgar, a sweet old man who came to feed the ducks at the park. He’d taken pity on her and with his help she managed to sell her car and rent the room above his shop. $400 a month was all he asked for, which was something even she could afford. He’d even introduced her to a friend who offered her a job bussing tables at a restaurant. Was it ideal for a young woman who had worked four years at college to earn a communications degree? No. But it was a roof, and moreover, it was a roof she felt easy under. Bonnie was grateful for it.

Edgar felt a twinge of sadness. He was an old man now, and his life was the shop. It had always been the shop. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself when it closed.

“I could have got a little more, but the truth is a little extra rent won’t help me save this place. I have a year before they force me to shut my doors for good. And by then, you know you’ll have to move.”

Bonnie nodded. She understood. She only had a year in this quiet place she found so soothing; abandoned buildings be damned. But a year was a long time. Long enough, she hoped, to figure herself out and plan her next step. “Such a pity to close this place,” she said.

“It is,” he agreed. “I’ve made so many amazing memories here over the years.” His eyes were full of nostalgia. “Oh! Speaking of memories, I found these!” she said, gently pushing the stack of photos towards him. “They’re not rare or valuable, but they’re still worth keeping, I think.” Edgar slowly leafed through the grainy photos, pausing here and there to chuckle.

Finally he came across one that made him laugh out loud. “Look at this!” he said, holding it towards her. The photo was of a bespectacled old woman with loose, flowing hair sitting at a picnic table. A little boy in a striped shirt sat next to her. They were gazing at each other and laughing as though they didn’t have a care in the world. Sitting on the table between them was a little black notebook.

“That’s my Nana Clover! And that handsome little fellow is me!” He tapped the photograph. “What were you laughing at? Do you remember?” asked Bonnie.

“Well, Nana Clover was considered an eccentric sort of woman in her day,” said Edgar. “Very strong willed, but also full of whimsy. She liked to travel around, wanted to really see what the world had to offer. And everywhere she went she’d see something new, or hear something new, and she’d jot it down in that little black notebook. She had dozens of those notebooks. And she’d fill them with just about anything: a sentence, a story, a scrap of poetry, little sketches or doodles, jokes and recipes. She even pressed flowers between the pages sometimes, or a pretty bit of fabric. And so every notebook turned into its own chapter of her life. They became art.”

Bonnie tried to imagine a life colorful enough to fill so many notebooks. It was hard to picture herself exploring some exotic place where the sights, sounds, smells and people thronged together into one breathtaking reality that was the human experience. The old her would have loved that. The new her felt the world was too big. She could still experience it on the Internet or through books. That was the safe, practical thing to do. It was the affordable thing, anyway.

“I really wish I had still had those notebooks,” Edgar said. “Even one of the blank ones would do. They remind me of her. She had me doodling in them myself, for a time.” He gently ran a finger over the image.

“I don’t remember what we were laughing at. She had so many stories and jokes to tell. She escaped a charging grizzly bear in the Rockies, she saw the run rise at the top of the Eiffel Tower, she slow-danced barefoot with a railway baron on the rooftop of the Bellagio under a full moon. And she recorded it all in that beautiful, unique chronicle of her life.”

“She could afford that life, Edgar.” Bonnie said, not unkindly. “Nowadays most people can barely afford a visit to the local park, they’re so busy working. Too many bills to pay and no time at all to go on adventures. That’s my life, anyhow. We’re like sharks in the water; if we stop swimming for even a second we sink and drown.”

“That’s not entirely true,” said Edgar. “It’s not always true of sharks and not always true of people either. Sure, Nana Clover was wealthy enough to do grand things. But I remember asking her once what her favorite memory in all her precious notebooks was. And her answer, or so she told me, was a single daisy she pressed between the pages when she was fifteen. She found that daisy unexpectedly in the garden long after the frost had come. Her sister had suddenly passed away, and she was at her lowest then, but that daisy reminded her that spring would come again for her too. That’s what made it so special. You don’t always need money to encounter something joyful. And it’s always important to capture those “somethings” so they last a lifetime. You understand?”

She did. She went back to cleaning after he left.

That night Edgar went to the convenience shop across the street to buy a tin of condensed milk and some scratch-off lottery tickets. He spent $5 and found that he’d won $500 000. It was enough to sort out his debts and renovate the shop. It was also enough to do one more thing.

* * * *

The next morning Bonnie woke up late. She had finished cleaning just after eleven the night before and she was sore from her efforts. When she opened the front door, she found a paper shopping bag sitting on the welcome mat. Inside was check for $20 000 and a little black notebook.

Bonnie: the enclosed note read. Go forth and find your own daisies. And when you do, keep them with you forever. –Edgar.

Bonnie hopped down the stairs two at a time. She walked to work, humming and smiling the entire way with her new notebook tucked under one arm. There were still bills to pay, but maybe later she might book a small holiday- a little weekend trip someplace new.

She suddenly felt she was ready for an adventure.

humanity
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About the Creator

Sara Zaidi

"A human person from Toronto. Figuring it out. Hoping one day there's less to figure out. Find me at your local book store in the self-help section, in the fetal position. Offer me a hug, then walk away. It's probably for the best."

Go Dubs!

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