CLOVER
Saturday, March 25th (2005)
Loneliness was like a terminal disease. With every passing day you faded just that little bit more. I had felt as if I were dying for the past four years and I’d had enough. Combing my hair one last time, I slid my wallet in my back pocket and picked up my keys. The girls’ room was finished and had been for three days now. There was just one thing missing before I would be ready for them—their clothes.
On the way to the department store, I stopped off at my local florist to buy a bunch of yellow tulips for my mother. They were her favorite. I never liked them, but I appreciated their natural beauty and purity.
“Good morning, Colin,” Mrs. Koop said and smiled from behind the fresh-flower-filled counter.
I returned her smile and inhaled the fresh aroma of a mixture of flowers. “Good morning.”
“Would you like your usual?”
I nodded once. “Please.”
“Coming right up, dear.” She turned her back and gathered a handful of bright tulips, tying them with yellow ribbon. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?”
“Oh, same old, same old,” she replied and gave me her motherly smile. “That’ll be ten pounds, please.” I handed over cash. “Thank you. Have a lovely day.”
“And you, Mrs. Koop.”
I drove to the graveyard, smiling to myself. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day for early March. It wouldn’t be too much longer and I would be alive again. I wouldn’t drown in the silence and emptiness of my home anymore.
For a minute I sat in the parking lot and stroked the tulip’s delicate, silky petals. No man had tampered with them or damaged them. They were pure and innocent—something that wasn’t often found in this world of greed, disgrace, and self-gratification. The wrong people were protected while the innocent were left to be picked at like a lion’s prey. I wanted to stop that. I wanted my family to be protected from the outside evil. I will stop that. I will protect them. I knew how and I was willing to do it. It seemed as if I were the only one out there willing to do what it took.
Getting out of the car, I walked along the familiar path. Mother’s grave was at the end of the graveyard in the right-hand corner. There was a space beside her reserved for me, so that we could be together again in the end. I placed a patchwork blanket down and knelt on it. Gazing at the perfectly soft petals, I smiled, appreciating the purity of nature’s most beautiful creation.
Turning my attention to my mother’s grave, I placed the flowers over her heart. “I miss you,” I said aloud. “I hope you don’t feel that me getting the family I have always wanted will affect what I feel for you in any way.” I kept my focus on the flowers. “I love you very much and I always will. Nothing will stop me visiting you or putting you first. I won’t ever forget what you taught me, and I promise you I will continue striving for what you wanted for this world. I won’t let them win, Mother. I promise you that.”
The sound of a young girl’s laughter caught my attention. She walked beside her parents and what must have been a brother. Her long blond hair hung down her back like a light golden waterfall. She was the reason I would never give up the fight. Innocent little girls like her that in a few years would be tainted beyond repair.
“No, Mum,” she shouted, “I don’t like Backstreet Boys anymore; they suck.”
I smiled at the innocent, fickle comment. She could only be about ten or eleven, not long until she discovered boys and would have to contend with other girls fighting for the attention of the one she liked.
Her mum laughed. “Sweetheart, yesterday you bought their poster.”
“Well, that was yesterday.” Her parents shook their heads, both smiling with pride and amusement. The boy hung back a step as if embarrassed to be with them. He held his cellphone out in front of him and mindlessly tapped away at it.
As quickly as they appeared, they were gone, out the other side of the fence. That was all I wanted—except I wouldn’t sit back and allow my family to be corrupted, unlike that girl’s parents. Soon enough, their beautiful little girl would become just another one of them.
I stood up and gathered the blanket, now eager to get to the city and shop for the girls’ clothes. I felt a pang of guilt for leaving my mother to shop for other women, but I needed this. I couldn’t go on alone anymore. “Good-bye, Mother. I’ll visit again soon.” As I walked back to my car, I looked around for that family again, but they had disappeared. My heart ached for that poor, young, golden girl.
***
I had been shopping with Mother many times, but this was very different, exciting. This was my choice and no one else’s. I could dress them how I wanted—respectfully, modestly, but also modern. I walked into the department store and was hit by the feminine scent of female perfumes in an array or brightly colored bottles.
As I followed the sign to women’s clothing, I wondered what the girls would smell like. Would they always have their own scent, or would it merge into one the longer they were all together? Would we eventually have the same smell? Would mine change to accommodate theirs into the mix, or would they change to accommodate me? I almost couldn’t walk in a straight line I was so excited and anxious. I wanted it all now.
A group of teenage girls squealing over a picture of a male model drew my attention. There were three of them, all wearing revealing and tasteless clothing. How on earth could their mothers allow them to leave their houses looking like that? The loudest one had a dark orange/brown tan and heavy makeup. Society had gone downhill if women thought it appropriate to act and dress like disgusting little whores. My eye twitched.
Swallowing my hate, I turned and walked away. I stopped in women’s clothing and began looking for the perfect outfits. “Can I help you?” the shop assistant asked. She wore a distastefully short skirt and low-cut shirt. No wonder the younger generation of women dressed like little whores if they see career women dressed that way too.
I smiled. “Yes, please. I’m looking for matching skirt and cardigan sets.”
“Oh, okay. Well, we have this one here,” she said, unable to hide her surprise, and gestured with her hand at a floral set beside me.
“Perhaps something a little more modern. It’s for my…fiancée.” Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy how that sounded. Fiancée. Could I have that? A normal fiancée? No, probably not. No one but Mother would understand what I was trying to do, not straight away, but I wanted a family to share my life with.
“Of course, here are the more fashionable two-pieces.” I followed her to the next rail. Now these were perfect. Soft pinks, greens, and blues would make them look respectable but be in keeping with their age.
“I’ll have four of each of those three.”
“Four of each?”
“Yes, please.”
She frowned and flicked through the rail. “What size?”
“A ten, please.” Ten was a healthy size, not like the six young girls aspire to these days.
“Are these all, sir?” she asked, holding the clothes in her arms.
I nodded. “That’s all. Thank you.” Their underwear had been ordered via the Internet. I didn’t have any business looking through that in a shop. I paid for the clothes with cash. “Thank you for your help.”
“No problem. I hope your fiancée likes them.”
“I’m sure she will.” Grabbing the stuffed bags, I left the shop.
I went straight home, eager to hang them and view the finished product. Moving the waist-high bookcase out of the way, I unlocked the door to the girls’ home. Their place was beautiful, and although it wasn’t huge, it had everything they could ever want or need. It was big enough for them to live comfortably, and the separate bedroom made it more bungalow-like. I was proud of what I had created—all for them.
Walking into their bedroom, I hung one set of each color in the four wardrobes and smiled. I had made sure I spent more time in their room, getting it perfect for them. I was doing the right thing. Would Mother think so too? Would she want me to be with anyone else? I shook my head. I had come too far to turn back. I needed this. I was owed this.
The bedcovers matched and the beds lined up, two against both walls facing each other. Between the beds were two bedside tables and two single-width wardrobes on each side. Each girl had her own space. Just a year ago, this was an old cellar, housing boxes of junk and old furniture. Now it was a beautiful home for four beautiful, pure women.
Climbing back up the stairs, I closed and locked the door and pushed the bookcase back across. The door was hidden, matching the wallpaper; you would never know it was there, and the placement of the bookcase meant the door handle was out of view.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves. Not long until I could pick up Violet now. Turning around, I saw something that made my heart sink. The ornate crystal vase now held a bunch of dead tulips. My breathing became heavy and sharp, and the tips of my fingers tingled. Dead, they’re dead. The only truly pure thing in this world and they died.
A fog of red smoke engulfed me and I was lost.