IT WAS KINDA LIKE she was just there. In front of me, she stood looking up at the sky. It was sunny, blue skies, no clouds. Yet she had an umbrella out, and it was open. Then I realized she wasn't looking at the sky. She was looking at the inside of her umbrella. I was behind her, and I caught a glimpse of the umbrella, the underneath of it. It was blue, painted with clouds on it. It looked like a real honest-to-goodness sky, right on her umbrella. That was my first encounter with the Umbrella Sky.
My name is Luke. I'm fifteen years old. I didn't know her name. I didn't know how old she was. She looked the same age as me, though. Anyway, I saw her again that night as I walked home from cram school. She was in the park, looking up at that umbrella. I finally got up the nerve and sat down on the sings by her. She nodded a hello at me. I returned the gesture. She moved the umbrella in the middle of us, and we both looked up into it. This time, it was painted black, with white dots as stars. I wondered if she painted it every time the lighting changed.
After a while, I had to go. I told her goodbye. She waved. I asked her name. She took my hand and wrote "Lucy" on it. I asked if she was mute. She nodded. I left.
I saw her again that morning. Lucy was walking by, looking at her umbrella. I saw it change as the sky brightened. I asked her if her umbrella was magic. She laughed silently, then wrote "Yes" on my hand. I smiled goofily, realizing how stupid that must have sounded. But she wrote on my hand, "My umbrella changes with the sky, or with my emotions. If it's sunny out, but I'm sad, the umbrella will show rainclouds. Cool, huh?" I nodded. We walked the other way, going to our destination.
My fourth encounter with the Umbrella Sky was rather terrifying. At the park that night, the umbrella was there, but she was not. I found her coughing blood over the side of the swings. I asked if she was okay, if I should call the hospital. She smiled and shook her head "No". She shrugged, writing, "It's a disease I have. But my grandfather gave me the umbrella to heal me in some way, so I know I'll be okay." I smiled.
I tried telling my dad about the Umbrella Sky. He obviously didn't believe me. He threw something at me because he was drinking. My mother just tried not to be noticed as dad yelled. I went into my room. Seeing Lucy and the Umbrella Sky became something I desired. Something I needed, something that sustained me, as precious as air and water.
Lucy had once told me that she had a raincoat to go with the umbrella. How the raincoat glowed purple and green and blue at night, looking like the universe. I wished I could have seen it. Lucy said she was pretty in it, then laughed. I told her she was pretty anyways. She wrote, "Thank you, Luke. You're very handsome too." We both cracked up.
I can't tell what Lucy is to me anymore. I used to think she was my friend, but now I sometimes find myself holding her hand, or telling her she's pretty. She never objects to holding hands (as she sometimes starts it) and she always laughs and looks away when I tell her how cute she is. Every time she compliments me, I feel my face flush.
I'm in love with Lucy.
I'm scared she will think I'm an idiot or something, so I act as if I don't know this. One day, though, she forced it out of me. She wrote, "Hey, are we a couple?" I freaked out, and she asked me if I liked her. I told her yes, I did. She beamed. "So we're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?" she wrote. I said yes, if she wanted to be. She said she did. So we are.
Lucy told me that she could once talk. But one day she started losing her voice, and in the next few weeks, it was gone. I asked her if she missed talking. "Not when there are people like you, who don't need words." she wrote. Again, my face flushed. It was true though. It was as if we portrayed our feelings through the air between us.
I didn't see Lucy for a few days, and then I got a call saying she was in the hospital. I went to visit her. She smiled when she saw me and wrote, "Will you take the umbrella?" I wondered if she thought she would die, and furiously shook my head no. She laughed. "Silly, I won't die. I just don't want anyone stealing it. Just keep it for me, just for a few days while I recover." When I left, I took the umbrella.
Lucy was out of the hospital in a few days. She was all smiles, thanking me for visiting her everyday. I would have even if she didn't notice. We broke out the umbrella again, and watched everything change underneath that Umbrella Sky.
Lucy was back in the hospital the next day. She had a high fever and she kept coughing blood. Something was wrong with her trachea, or her lungs, or her liver, I can't remember which. All I remember is praying she'd be okay.
Lucy asked me to take the umbrella home again. She kept smiling, though she was pale and her eyes were bloodshot. I said okay and took it home.
It rained the day Lucy died. She had no relatives, so only me and my mother came to her funeral. I waited for my mother to wander off and allowed myself to cry a bit. I wish I had told her how much I liked her. I wish I held her hand those last few moments. I opened her umbrella, looking up into it. It was beautiful, just like Lucy. Just then, a strong gust of wind blew the umbrella from my hands. I chased after it, my hand outstretched in front of me. Opening, closing. Missing, missing, missing, missing. I finally caught it, panting. The inside was just as Lucy described her raincoat. All colours swirled around in it, and I felt nostalgic.
Everything changed underneath that Umbrella Sky.
Always Yours,
HaruChi
