The Iris hybrid Casa Blanca is a flower whose petals are delicate. The Casa Blanca is known for its white petals. In Greek Mythology, Iris is the goddess of the rainbow. And so, with the flower being called Iris and Iris being the goddess of the rainbow, the Iris flowers sport many colors. It seems so wonderful, to have the same flower be in so many different colors. In the respect, I feel as though they are like people; the outside may look different, but the inside is not all that different. But that’s a topic that people readily fight about and so I have no time to ponder the merits of humanity and what it truly stands for. People don’t really want to be very friendly to one another, anyway. Why change it now?
I only thought about rainbows because there was a terrible rainstorm last night. There was thunder and lightning. Lightning struck trees which caught on fire. Wind swept down varied tall objects, from telephone poles stuck in the mud to enormous pine trees stuck in green grass.
The power went out several times and I never thought about the importance of having a generator in my home until that night. I wasn’t doing anything of real importance. I was only writing a paper for Biology, a paper which I still don’t know the point of writing. Science bothers me that way. Sure, there’s what I’m supposed to do, which is come up with a new discovery, but all any professor on the subject ever wants is the same answer that I could find on any old mundane web forum. It’s sickening.
Anyhow, the storm last night reminded me of the one on the night after I went home from Button Avenue. The clouds were gray and the sky was black. There were a few stars that dared to come out. I had made it maybe halfway home, probably less, considering my poor spatial reasoning skills, and then the rain started pouring down on me. I was glad I was not wearing long pants, since they would have been soaked and I did not like walking around with pant legs clinging to my calves.
I took out the elephant button that I had placed into my pocket. I noticed that there were no button holes in it and realized that there must be something more to this than a funky orange color and intricate detail that made it seem very realistic. The signature on the backside of the ornament thing became very intriguing to me. I wanted to know who this Steven Bender was. Or is. Is he alive? Is he dead? Amongst many other questions, I knew I had a lot to find out about a person who did not want to be discovered.
In that moment, I considered going back to Ricky and asking him a lot more about Steven and why he was so defensive of him. If one person was going to have all the answers to my questions, it would be Ricky. Yet, I was too scared of Ricky to actually go ahead and choose to ask him. We had started off on the wrong foot and I was not willing to figure out how to fix things right now.
As I walked further along my path, I saw so many plants and then thought of the orange elephant I was still clutching in my fingers. I wanted to know about the artist who created it. I was almost to my front door and was soaked completely. My cardigan was stuck to me and shirt had become very friendly with my skin. My shoes were full of water and my feet were cold. My fingers looked like prunes on their pads and I was covered in goose bumps from head to toe. My hair was stringy and I felt that my makeup was ruined. I considered running in and grabbing an umbrella. But why bother now?
Against better judgment, I turned right around and ran to where I was certain I could find Denise and Ricky. It was stupid. I ran back and forth down a block because I couldn’t make up my mind about what I wanted to do. I was tired. Just not tired enough to stop running all the way there. I ran and ran until I had no feeling left in my feet and the blisters rendered importance no longer. It was pitch black outside.
There was so much excitement in me that I didn’t stop to think of the time or the weather when I rang the doorbell. He didn’t answer the first time. So then I rang again. Then once more. I then gave up on the entire thing and pounded on the door. If I had known him a little bit more, I may have even tried the doorknob and seen if the door is open. If it were, I would have barged right on in.
I gave up and sat down in front of the front door. He’d have to show up eventually. I stared right on ahead of me and eventually saw a rainbow. It was nice. I hadn’t seen one in a long time. I had also never looked outside in a long time, so that may be why I haven’t seen a rainbow in quite some time.
There was a strange shadowy figure that walked on by me. I hoped it was Ricky. I knew it was most likely not Ricky. “Hi Ricky!” I shouted at the figure, who looked back but was very confused. I had stopped caring and wanted to retreat back home. However, I had come this far and was in no mood to run all the way back home only to run back here as soon as I made it all the way back to my doorstep.
This left me only one option. I had to wander around the entire town in order to find a location that I could consider worth wasting my entire night at. There had to be a field somewhere where I could lie down and gaze up at the sky. I knew that the smell of the rain would not be there forever and it would only fade each second and the sun came closer and closer to announce the brand-new day to come.
I did find a field, but it was on the side of a busy street. I still chose it because it seemed vacant and I was not in the mood to be around people. I sat down and clasped my hands and placed them behind my head before laying down and stargazing. I was waiting for a comet. I was waiting for a shooting star. I was waiting for something, someone unexpected to show up and save me from my boredom.
There was a nice crispness to the air. It allowed me to get lost in thought. I had hoped there wouldn’t be too much of that tonight, but since it happened, I got lost in the rainbow which kept on fading in and out of view. The colors appealed to me and I hoped that I could have seen more colors that blended together as one more places in my life. I wished that white and black could be a part of the rainbow. They are the two extremes, after all. Absence of light and excess of light. They should be there in the large, ever noticeable, arc of blended colors, too.