KiaJana
Alma, Kansas June 17, 2015
"The soul would have no rainbows had the eyes no tears".
Old Indian Proverb
KiaJana. No one pronounces it right the first time. Some say *Ki-a Jane-a* with an emphasis on Jane and 2 short a's. Some say *Ki-a Jan-a*, with the emphasis on Jan combined with another short a at the end. But it's *Ki-a-Ja-nay*, one word, emphasis on Kia that rolls into a soft J like when the French say Jean Paul or Joie de Vie. Most just call her Kia for short.
As she stands with her back to the gas station door, a dry Midwestern breeze lifts loose tendrils that have escaped from her sagging braid. In the soft wind they blow across the striking features of an unmistakeably celtic face. With one shoulder leaning against the dirty white paint chipping off the side of the old building, the other is raised, supporting the hard black receiver of a pay phone pressed tightly against her ear. Her hand shades her eyes from the late afternoon sun as the phone rings twice. She toys nervously with it's cord, waiting for someone to pick up.
Glancing down, Kia kicks softly at the parched earth; pale puffs fluff up, dusting her boot along with the ragged edge of her faded blue jeans. Walks' blue workshirt covers a pregnancy about to spring into full bloom. Passing a hand over her growing stomach she wonders where he is. Her nose wrinkles as she glances up to locate the soon setting sun. As the phone picks up on the other end of the line Kia straightens quickly. Tossing the long, thick braid behind her shoulder she turns to watch the attendant filling her tank. His red highlights glint in the sun.
Almost finished he barely notices her; the afternoon heat has left him tired and ready to head home. While he tightens her gas cap, Kia's tall frame slumps slightly when the answering machine clicks on in the small farmhouse she and Walks had shared with the others since the war took almost everything they owned. No one ever suspected the fighting could have come to these shores, or to have caused such destruction. Dropping her head, this time Kia shades her whole face, listening to a voice that brings a solid lump straight to the middle of her throat.
"Howdy any and all who are calling. If you are hearing this message we are likely out in the meadow. I'd wager Bear is hunting, while Crying gathers the garden's vegetables we are planning for tonight's dinner. I have wandered down to the stream to give the horses a drink. Wild and Anarchy are playing behind the barn, I know this because they are always playing behind the barn. Let's hope they've not also causing the usual trouble they always seem to get into behind the barn. Kia may be resting, the baby sometimes takes a toll on her in this heat. Leave a message at the beep".
At the sound of her own name, and the absence of Walks', Kia leans her forehead against the building and blinks hard. As the tone signals her to do so, she begins to speak, "Gem, it's me, Kia. Listen, I figure by now you have noticed I have not returned from the village. I, uh, I'm not sure how to tell you, but I am.. I am on my way east". Kia looks up across the dry plain, pausing for a moment as she struggles to contain herself. Looking down again she continues, more softly this time, "Gem. I can't come home. I can't stay where Walks isn't. I know it sounds crazy, and I may be for doing this, but I don't know when I will be back. I'll call again the next chance I get". With that, Kia quickly slips the phone into it's cradle and leans back against the building. Her chin lifted towards the sky, tears now take over. After a long moment of looking up at nothing, she wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Sniffling she pushes off her only support and walks towards the gas station doorway.
Coming in, the attendant eyes her as she fumbles with the money she owes but says nothing. Back outside Kia hops into the Tracker and takes a deep breath before keying the ignition. As the engine turns she runs a hand through her hair and then grasps the steering wheel with resolve. Turning onto the road she glances up into the rearview, spotting the attendant leaning casually with arms folded in the doorway.
Jim just watches as the pretty pregnant woman with the sad eyes pulls the small truck back onto the empty road. He watches until it finally fades away, swallowed up by it's own cloud of dust.
"The soul would have no rainbows had the eyes no tears".
Old Indian Proverb
KiaJana. No one pronounces it right the first time. Some say *Ki-a Jane-a* with an emphasis on Jane and 2 short a's. Some say *Ki-a Jan-a*, with the emphasis on Jan combined with another short a at the end. But it's *Ki-a-Ja-nay*, one word, emphasis on Kia that rolls into a soft J like when the French say Jean Paul or Joie de Vie. Most just call her Kia for short.
As she stands with her back to the gas station door, a dry Midwestern breeze lifts loose tendrils that have escaped from her sagging braid. In the soft wind they blow across the striking features of an unmistakeably celtic face. With one shoulder leaning against the dirty white paint chipping off the side of the old building, the other is raised, supporting the hard black receiver of a pay phone pressed tightly against her ear. Her hand shades her eyes from the late afternoon sun as the phone rings twice. She toys nervously with it's cord, waiting for someone to pick up.
Glancing down, Kia kicks softly at the parched earth; pale puffs fluff up, dusting her boot along with the ragged edge of her faded blue jeans. Walks' blue workshirt covers a pregnancy about to spring into full bloom. Passing a hand over her growing stomach she wonders where he is. Her nose wrinkles as she glances up to locate the soon setting sun. As the phone picks up on the other end of the line Kia straightens quickly. Tossing the long, thick braid behind her shoulder she turns to watch the attendant filling her tank. His red highlights glint in the sun.
Almost finished he barely notices her; the afternoon heat has left him tired and ready to head home. While he tightens her gas cap, Kia's tall frame slumps slightly when the answering machine clicks on in the small farmhouse she and Walks had shared with the others since the war took almost everything they owned. No one ever suspected the fighting could have come to these shores, or to have caused such destruction. Dropping her head, this time Kia shades her whole face, listening to a voice that brings a solid lump straight to the middle of her throat.
"Howdy any and all who are calling. If you are hearing this message we are likely out in the meadow. I'd wager Bear is hunting, while Crying gathers the garden's vegetables we are planning for tonight's dinner. I have wandered down to the stream to give the horses a drink. Wild and Anarchy are playing behind the barn, I know this because they are always playing behind the barn. Let's hope they've not also causing the usual trouble they always seem to get into behind the barn. Kia may be resting, the baby sometimes takes a toll on her in this heat. Leave a message at the beep".
At the sound of her own name, and the absence of Walks', Kia leans her forehead against the building and blinks hard. As the tone signals her to do so, she begins to speak, "Gem, it's me, Kia. Listen, I figure by now you have noticed I have not returned from the village. I, uh, I'm not sure how to tell you, but I am.. I am on my way east". Kia looks up across the dry plain, pausing for a moment as she struggles to contain herself. Looking down again she continues, more softly this time, "Gem. I can't come home. I can't stay where Walks isn't. I know it sounds crazy, and I may be for doing this, but I don't know when I will be back. I'll call again the next chance I get". With that, Kia quickly slips the phone into it's cradle and leans back against the building. Her chin lifted towards the sky, tears now take over. After a long moment of looking up at nothing, she wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Sniffling she pushes off her only support and walks towards the gas station doorway.
Coming in, the attendant eyes her as she fumbles with the money she owes but says nothing. Back outside Kia hops into the Tracker and takes a deep breath before keying the ignition. As the engine turns she runs a hand through her hair and then grasps the steering wheel with resolve. Turning onto the road she glances up into the rearview, spotting the attendant leaning casually with arms folded in the doorway.
Jim just watches as the pretty pregnant woman with the sad eyes pulls the small truck back onto the empty road. He watches until it finally fades away, swallowed up by it's own cloud of dust.
posted by BlackVelvetLace at 9:48 PM
1 Comments:
"The soul would have no rainbows had the eyes no tears".
Oh, so true.
Peace, love and light,
Kid Ric
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