Pam felt a whisper in her ear, but she regarded it as nothing more than a dream. Sure enough, and minutes later, she was being led through the hallway and out the door and down the stairs, by Jim, to stand in front of the lone tree outside.
He was convinced there was a sight to behold, or something. Half-asleep and with her heavy-lidded eyes starting to flutter, Pam wasn’t sure what he was saying.
“No,” she said, narrowing her eyes to a squint. She only glanced for a second, but she was tired and didn’t feel up to searching. “I can’t see it.”
“You can’t?” he asked, a little incredulous and wide-awake. “You, of all people, can’t see it?”
She shook her head, turning her attention to face him.
“Nope. I’m sorry, but I’m not a visionary this early in the morning.Can we go back to bed?” Yawning, she tightened the sash on her bathrobe, thinking that maybe it would make her just an ounce warmer.
“I’d love to. But, Beesly, I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, wrapping an arm around her.
She shuffled her slipper-covered feet through the gravel lining the sidewalk. Outside of their new apartment complex, the decoration was sparse and almost dismal. At sunrise, even with the creamy-colored sky and muted light, things still came off as bland.
Disregarding their respective homes, they’d found an entirely new apartment, for a fresh start. Their realtor’s name was Marianne, who was Southern and already sick of being in Scranton. Jim and Pam had made jokes about the way she ranted, but secretly, each of them agreed with bits and pieces they’d never admit.
They’d leave, someday. They’d start over again, well-versed in the experience of beginnings.
But for now, they were here, cooking dinners together and falling asleep watching reruns of Growing Pains and Full House and a million other TV-Land favorites the two marveled at, quoting things along the way. Many random days were spent rehashing old times, but nights and mornings and snippets of hours were already creating memories that maybe would look a little happier, in retrospect.
Familiarity counted as the main factor that made things work, along with a constant dose of surprise. They kissed and everything felt new, they laughed and everything felt the same. They were far past the point of getting to know each other, but in a sense, they really were not.
If they weren’t learning about each other as regular people, they were learning about each other as imperfect, bad habit-filled versions of themselves. The inner-workings of their personalities were beginning to show, and they had the argumentative tendencies to prove it.
Since March, they had spent amounts of time they didn’t like to acknowledge battling over Ikea instruction manuals that seemed all-too-complex and over the TV remote and over leaving towels on the floor.
All that time, all those years of miscommunication and the basics of good intentions, they were struggling to find something resembling normal.
Putting up with Jim’s seven-AM antics, Pam decided, was just another part of getting used to things.
She relaxed her shoulders and leaned her head to his. The new hope of morning was all around, the new season settling and coating everything with a dewy mist. Pam couldn’t think of a better feeling, aside from the exhaustion of the previous night and the cluelessness of what was happening.
“Well, if you don't believe me,” she said, her voice breaking the quiet, stillness of the air. “What is it?"
His gaze met hers, and she continued with what she’d really been wondering. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”
He knew exactly what to tell her, much to his surprise. Coming up with the right words used to be nothing short of impossible, and now, they just flowed.
Stealing the chance and a view into her perception of things, he kissed her softly with assurance and just a glimmer of a thought that he would possibly remember what was so worth looking at.
“Let’s climb the tree,” he suggested, as if people did things like this all the time, under the same circumstances. He pulled away from their embrace and offered a hand. “Let's be rebels. Like Gene and Finny."
He grinned and still had his arm extended, unflinching. She didn’t say anything.
“Okay, so I know it’s a really twisted comparison. But we are best friends, so it makes a little sense. Kind of.”
“You’ve read that?” she wondered aloud, a bit disbelieving after the Angela’s Ashes incident. “It’s one of my favorites, from high school anyways.”
A part of her knew that he, somehow, already knew this. He always did, and the little things and favorites that revealed themselves were always, always etched in some far-off corner of his memory.
He told her that he just finished reading it a few nights ago, while she’d been away visiting her sister at college. “I found it on your bookshelf, and I figured that I could make up for what I slept through in tenth grade. So, um--"
“Is what I need to see up there?” she questioned, before he could go on to defending himself any further. She didn't want him to. A pleasant, almost cleansing sigh escaped her lips and her mind told her she was crazy for folding her palm into his. She gave in.
"We'll find out," he told her, smiling and leading her. And even without a promise of anything spectacular, Pam followed.
They climbed up and perched themselves at the highest point they could reach. Their hair then littered with sticks and dirt, they breathed in the scent of Earth. There was no more talk of what they were looking for, what had brought them there in the first place, or even of classic literature and all the things it hid behind.
It was just still. They sat with legs dangling and fingers entwined against the rough bark of a sturdy branch.The light poured in to fill the empty spaces and an unexpected warmth folded over.
Just visible enough to point out, a splash of a green leaf peeked from between limbs of the tree.
He would have never seen that without her careful eye.
Memory and detail and remembrance all melted into one part of a whole.
Impulsive and crazy led to complete and loved.
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it's knees
By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Song credits at ending go to Cinematic Orchestra's, "To Build a Home."
Book mentioned is "A Separate Peace," by John Knowles.
Song credits at ending go to Cinematic Orchestra's, "To Build a Home."
Book mentioned is "A Separate Peace," by John Knowles.
Chapter End Notes:
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