CH 10 CALIFORNIA DREAMING (Hanako)
She could almost feel the early morning sun on her face, see the way the light would sift through her soft grey bedroom curtains to diffuse everything in a hazy morning glow. She could hear the long-tailed sparrows chirping right outside the window in the baby tree she’d positioned but not yet planted. They chirped. They sang her awake each day.
Hanako kept her eyes closed, imagined sliding out of bed and walking across the hall to her office--bare warm feet on smooth cool floors. She stood there for a moment in her mind, then walked until she felt the scratchy shag rug under her feet, and then the blend of cotton and silk between her fingers, and then heard the swoosh as the curtains were swept aside and the room became a bubble of warm, happy, light.
She breathed-in the sunlight. She could almost smell it.
Hanako now stood in front of her desk. Was it strange to miss something she had only possessed for nine months, rather than the little things she had known for a lifetime and were no longer hers?
The desk is a deep blue- grey she had become obsessed with after seeing it on Zio and Son’s Instagram. She had chosen the color carefully, wanting it to compliment the old brass fixtures of the drawers, wanting the piece to look expensive, rather than like the nine-dollar rescue it was, from the Goodwill.
Jiro always said she could find potential in anything.
Hanako's philosophy was that most things could be made new again, be useful in a different way after the intended purpose had long passed it by. She simply wanted everything to reach its potential. The desk had been covered in crayon marks and water stains, but beneath the neglect was pinewood yearning--no, somehow knowing--it could be more.
The beveled glass lamp on her desk was one of her favorite things in the house. Her fingers bumped over the smooth lines; the rose cut into the center; the vines bordering it. Her cranky Persian neighbor lady had given it to her. “Take it mommy-joon. It’s yours. I don’t have room for it. It’s hard mommy-joon, to go from a five bedroom in Brentwood to a two bedroom in the valley.”
The lamp for Hanako symbolized her future taste, for her future house. It demonstrated her own potential.
Knowing she shouldn’t let the sadness linger, Hanako sighed, released the tightness in her chest, and opened her eyes. The room was dark, and nothing was singing her awake.