Auntie Leigh

This piece was written and submitted to Vocal Black Book Challenge

She hopped off the bus on a bright Thursday afternoon. The sun felt like it could burn through her skin. She turned 18 a few weeks ago and she was up for an adventure. The cash she’d saved since she was 16 was making itself useful, finally. You see, Jimmy’s Bowlin’ Alley only paid 4 bucks an hour and a girl can’t have much fun on that. But here she is, her life whole life in front of her, the world was calling her name and she answered it.

Willow had the small-town experience, old homes, all the same neighbors. Nothing ever changed and the only excitement was football, bowling, and the occasional family fight from the neighbors on the corner. Her Mama ran off when she was young and her Daddy did the best he could but with 5 kids, he worked and ate and slept. Willow and her siblings loved their Daddy but he encouraged them to work hard and get out of this small town if they could and she was the first to go. She barely finished school and always had her eye on the horizon. So she set off one morning gave her Daddy a kiss and waved goodbye as she climbed onto a bus headed for a new life in a new place.

The ride was long and hot. The woman next to her smelled of coffee and corn chips mixed with lavender. She’d never seen so many different kinds of humans in one place. She pondered on their stories. Why were they here and where were they going? Soon the bus came to a stop and she was at her destination. She smiled at the lavender lady and wished her a grand adventure and climb out of the bus, sweaty and stiff.

After she grabbed her bag and her hat out of the bus hatch she could hear her name. She headed for the shaded ramadas because the sun was blinding her. Auntie Leigh was waiting impatiently for her to arrive. She ran and grabbed Willow and swung her around. “I’m so excited to see you!! Are you ready for your new adventure!!” Willow caught her balance and kissed her Aunt on the cheek, ” Of course I am, I’ve been waiting my whole life to be free!” Willow was a dreamer and Leigh was just the woman to guide her.

Auntie Leigh was a hippie type. Long gray hair, steel blue eyes, and an incredibly contagious smile. Her long flowy dress smelled of Patchouli and incense. She was unconventional and Willow’s mama never cared for her, from what she remembered. That didn’t matter now. Her mama didn’t stick around anyhow. Willow had a special bond with Leigh, they spoke a language that required no words. It was like they were one and the same. Leigh had moved when Willow was about 14 and filled her head with stories of love, peace, gardening, crystals, and flowers everywhere. She talked of being self-sufficient and not ever depending on others to fulfill your needs. A freedom she could never get back home where religion was overwhelming and everything fun seemed to be a sin.

After all the greetings, Auntie Leigh grabbed Willow’s bag and headed for her baby blue Volkswagon Bus. She remembers the texture of the upholstery from when she was younger. A plastic feeling with small dimples throughout; nothing pretty but practical. It brought back memories of warm days and pushups ice cream in the summers when Leigh lived back home. She felt safe and loved with Auntie Leigh. Willow looked at all the scenery, so different from what she knew. As they drove away from the hotness of the city, the trees were tall and green. The wind blowing through the windows made her feel like she was flying. The landscape morphed into a wonderful playground of new scents. The trees grew taller and Willow could see fields of flowers and temperature dropped tremendously.

Auntie Leigh lived in a little white house surrounded by trees, pots of plants, and covered with ivy, wild and free, but oddly neatly trimmed around door and windows. A red rocking chair sat on the wrap-around porch and a bundle of sage half-burned sat in a shell on a cute table, shaped like a butterfly. She said she cleared the energy before Willow arrived, so they could begin their adventures together. Willow was so excited and also nervous. She felt as though she had entered a storybook and was entering an alternate universe. What she didn’t realize is, she was.

Their first evening was a get to know you again sort of event. Letters and phone calls just don’t keep people connected like a cup of tea and warm blankets. Willow chattered on about home and her Daddy and the kids. She told Leigh all about her job at the bowling alley and all gossip she heard. Mrs. Anderson was having an affair and Bessie Lynn was pregnant. Her mama was sending her away to live somewhere else. Her Daddy got a promotion when Mr. Bennett died because, well, no one else wants to prep meat at the butcher shop. Daddy was good at it and it was more money. With Willow gone, maybe the younger kids would have a little more. She spoke of school and how she almost didn’t graduate, about her History teacher, who always gave her the willies. He just gave off weird vibes and was new to town. The music shop was closing because kids just don’t play instruments anymore and Willow felt sad about that. She had played the flute all through elementary school. She always drifted into her own little world when she was playing. It made her heart fill with joy. Auntie Leigh listened intently and never appeared bored with the conversation. Her smile showed how loved Willow was.

Next was Leigh’s turn to share. She was a woman of few words. She didn’t complain or have a bad word to say about anyone. She shared that she’d been working a little at a shop in the next town over, selling oils and incense. They had a tarot reader and a small selection of books and clothes. It was getting cold and late. Auntie Leigh always performed a nightly ritual of meditation and cleansing away the energies of the day. She lit candles and incense and sat beautifully relaxed on a mat. Her legs were crossed and her eyes closed. She spoke out loud and Willow watched in wonder. Next time, she’d like to try. Before she went to her room, Auntie Leigh hugged her and softly said, “Look in the chest at the foot of your. There’s a gift for you.” and she went off to her room.

Willow entered the little room. It was quaint and simple with a small bed covered with a homemade quilt and cute pillowcases. Then she looks at the chest. It looked very old. Like a chest that was taken on a ship across the ocean. She opened it. The smell of cedar overwhelmed her senses. It was amazing. She sat back on her haunches and breathed it in, she was transported back to the “old days,” or at least she imagined the old say would smell like. After a few minutes, she looked in the chest. There was a small black book wrapped in a purple ribbon. Also, was a box with a pair of sandals in it and a small mat like the one Aunt Leigh meditated on. She sat back again, little book in her hands, and carefully unwrapped it. When she opened it there was a picture inside. A very old picture of a half-grown girl, close to Willows age. On the back was a name, Sarah Willow Sampson. This girl looked like she could be Willow’s twin, the long stringing black hair, her dark soulful eyes, her sloped nose was almost exact!! She didn’t know who this girl was but it had to be related to her, their names were the same and she had an uncanny resemblance. There was a knock at the door, “come in” Willow answered. Aunt Leigh came and they began to talk. Willow learns that this was her great-grandmother, a quiet woman with deep eyes and spirit that would leave you breathless. She could speak to the dead, she could calm animals with her voice and she loved nature more than humans. She was called a witch in the late 1800s and was cast out of general society. The little black book was her life, written in ink. Real ink, the kind in a bottle. Aunt Leigh shared that she wanted to bring Willow here, to learn about her history, who she was, and where she came from. She wanted to show her things that had been passed down generation after generation. Willow was filled with warm feelings of joy, excitement, and wonder. For tonight, though, Aunt Leigh told her to start reading the little book, not to rush through but to feel her grandmother in her; to embrace her lifeline, and then rest. Tomorrow shall begin the most glorious adventure. Tomorrow you will begin your journey to finding your roots and grounding your spirit with the universe. She lit a candle and some incense. She said it keeps the bad energy away, she said a few words that Willow didn’t understand, and softly Auntie Leigh closed the door.

Willow began to read. “This is my journal. I purchased it at the mercantile for 5 cents. I want to write down my thoughts because they make me feel uneasy when I keep them. My name is Willow Sampson, I am 13. My mother and father named me Sarah, but it sounds old and I don’t like it. I refuse to answer to it. My teacher says I’m stubborn for not answering to my given Christian name and will amount to nothing but trouble. She says I’ll never suited for marriage, I am disobedient and will be curse on my family. I sometimes wish I could cast her away…” and Willow drifted off to sleep.