Cherry Blossom Tree: Chapter One

Grandma came by the house a couple of days after the funeral. It took a lot of convincing, but it wasn’t grandma that mum was mad with. She is a stubborn woman and even after his death, she held a grudge.

‘Look see,’ Mum pressed her finger on the windowpane like a kid in a pet shop. However, instead of an animal, she was obsessing over a tree.

‘She did it again you know!’ Mum said, her face now plastered against the living room window.

Dad turned the page of his newspaper, ‘Who did what?’

‘Ann at number 24! She told me that she got them from Hobbies, you know the big one in Birchwood where I got my hanging pots...’

‘You mean the pots that are in a heap on the anthill.’

‘Oh, fuck off Matt, I’m being serious… even my own mother is lying to me.’

‘Well, that’s nothing new, is it?’

She ignored his comment. ‘Every year I go, Matt, every year and there’s never a single one!’

‘Really?’ Dad finally took his eyes off the paper and looked at her in disbelief. ‘There are no cherry blossom trees at all in any garden center in the area?’

‘Obviously, but there’s none like that! Ann's blossoms are pink, pink! The ones in the garden center look like they’ve been painted in a back alley.’

I’d never noticed them before mum pointed it out. There are a few houses around town with a cherry blossom tree in the front garden that demanded attention. They are as bright pink as a dragon fruit. I can confirm, after many a forced trip to the garden center, she has a point. I’ve never seen them as nice anywhere else.

‘I promise they aren’t,’ he said, ‘Probably because your mum and Ann have actually planted the trees in the ground. Not to mention, cared for them properly.’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at her over his paper. ‘That might be why they look better now, than when sat waiting to bust out their pots in the shops.’ He folded the paper up and tucked it down the side of the chair. ‘Come on I've been waiting for ages,’ he sat up straighter and moved his attention toward the coffee table, where sat their latest endeavor, chess.

‘You’re a cheeky git, you know that?’ Mum snapped playfully, turning away from the window, ready to storm over and knock some sense into him. But mum froze mid-step. She must have heard the car because as if on cue the doorbell rang. I looked over at her, but her eyes were glued to the chess set. My gaze fell on the window, where Gran’s red Ford Cortina was on the drive.

‘Do you want me to get it?’ I asked.

I took a moment, but Mum smiled and shook her. ‘No, I’m a big girl.’

‘Hi.’ Mum answered the door. The two stood staring at each other. This is your mother, I thought.

‘Do I not get a hug?’ Gran held out her arms expectantly.

Mum leaned in and gave her a curt hug. For a moment, I thought her shoulders relaxed but it didn’t last long. Gran patted her on the back and the two moved apart. I watched from the living room, as Gran picked a box up off the floor and walked into the kitchen.

‘This is nice. When did you get new worktops?’ Gran said, her eyes wandering. We’d had the whole kitchen redone. She knew it, so did mum.

‘About six years ago.’ Mum leaned against the island, watching her like a hawk.

‘Right. Well… This is some of his stuff.’ She placed the box on the counter, ‘I didn’t know if you’d want anything.’ She opened the box and began pulling out meaningless items. 'If you don’t want them, then stick it all in a charity bag. I don’t want it taking up space and collecting dust.’

Things became quiet very quickly. I used to admire my grandma like little girls do a princess. She was my idol, but now I couldn’t even tell you if she wore glasses or not. She was alien to me.

‘Helena, how are you.’ Dad walked straight up, hugging her without question.

Gran’s face warmed but you could see the distance, the smile never met in her eyes.

‘As good as can be. How’s my boy?’ Gran said.

‘I’d be better knowing you aren't alone in that house.’

‘You know I’m never alone. There are always people floating by.’

‘Yes, but when that settles down. Are you going to be okay?’

Mum leaned on the counter, letting out a heavy breath. ‘Stop pestering, she’s fine,’ Mum said, throwing her arms out.

‘Laura,’ Dad cut in ‘this is your moth-’

‘Matt.’ Gran held on to his arms, making him look her in the eye. ‘She’s fine. She knows I’m fine.’

I was standing in the doorway and it wasn’t till mum put the kettle on that I was pulled from their periphery.

‘Do you want one love?’

‘Oh Scarlette, I didn’t even see you,’ Gran said. With just a glance at my face, Gran was back digging in the box. She pulled out a framed photo and lay it face down on the counter. ‘I’ve got something for you. Come on.’

She walked out of the kitchen. Mum’s face was a blank canvas, she turned away to get cups out of the cupboard, but I could tell she was itching to follow.

I waited a moment before following her. Said I had to go the toilet. When I got outside Gran was at the boot of her car holding up Grandad’s jacket.

‘He would have been buried with his chopper and this jacket if he could.’

‘Gran. You can’t give me that.’

‘I can do what I bloody well like.’ She pushed it into my arms. The weathered leather drowned me, and I felt nostalgia for a time I don’t know. It felt like grandad.

I held it back out to her. ‘No, it doesn’t feel right. I can’t take it,’

‘Well, what am I going to do with it? Besides, he’d have wanted you to have it.’

On the back of the jacket, there was an embossed dragon, staring right back at me. Its body wound across the back. My finger brushed the patch ‘Inferno’ and I felt like a little kid again, I hated it.

‘Thank you.’ I didn't know whether hug her or not, so I just smiled and held the jacket closer.

Gran didn’t stay long after that. She kept watching the clock on the oven. I took the jacket upstairs and lay it across my bed. It was heavier than I thought it would be. The inside label had been burnt black. Whatever was there was illegible, now replaced by violent scratches into the leather ‘MADE IN TRI’. I pulled up the jacket closer, inspecting every patch and hole. The faint smell of Gold Leaf cigarettes clung to the fabric. That smell was what stopped me from crying the last time I saw my grandad standing. I was being rushed off to the emergency room.

‘14-year-old female, motorcycle accident. Major wounds to the right side. Possible broken ribs. She’s lost a lot of blood.’ The words faded in and out of focus.

I was listening to the pound of boots against the polished floor, Grandad was running alongside the gurney. Someone yelled and they stopped. Grandad’s face loomed over me, he bent down and kissed me on the forehead. I closed my eyes to stop myself from crying. I focused on the smell to keep my breathing steady. His face was scrunched. He kept looking at me like… like I was the motorcycle and it had just made a strange noise, one that he didn’t know how to fix. Then he was gone, and I was being taken away.

I heard Mum shouting ‘How on could you let her on a motorcycle!’ before the doors closed. But I was good.

I pulled the jacket up in front of my mirror, flirting with the idea of putting it on. I chose not to risk the smell being contaminated by my other clothes. I never want it to fade. So, I put it back in a box and slid it under my bed.

I poked my head in the living room. Mum and Dad were both hunched over the chess set again, as if Gran had never even been here.

‘See you later.’ I said

‘Where are you going?’ Dad said, not looking up from mum. He liked to watch her when she was deciding where to move because it irritated her. She never won when they played board games.

‘Stop talking. You’re putting me off,’ she said.

‘Can’t put off someone who can’t play in the first place.’

She didn’t give him the satisfaction of a comeback. Frustrated and not thinking about it, she moved her pawn to F4, leaving her king open and undefended. He moved his queen to H4.

‘Check Mate.’ He jumped to his feet doing his signature foot shuffle.

‘You little cheat. That wasn’t there before.’

Dad’s elation was short lived, mum wasn’t in a joking mood.

‘Yes, it was.’

‘No. it wasn’t you moved it when I answered the door.’ Her voice raised.

Dad shook his head. ‘I don’t know why I even bother.’

He got up too fast and knocked the table. The figures fell and rolled across the carpet.

‘Yeah. That’s about right. Go and throw a hissy-fit’

‘That was an accident. You’re just a sore loser.’

Mum grumbled. ‘Yeah, yeah.’ as I shut the front door.