From the May/June 1999 issue

Flora’s Home

by Mary Horak, age 13,
Houston, Texas

see the illustrations for this story

In New York City there lived a twelve-year-old girl named Flora Woodward, who lived in a beautiful, luxurious apartment with her parents Don and Marietta Woodward. She felt her life was worse than anyone else’s, however, mainly because, whatever effort she made, her mother was never happy. The only reason for her mother’s unhappiness was that she hated all urban areas; she wanted to live in wide-open spaces, watching the sun beautifully rise above the horizon every morning, rising along with shades of pink and yellow. She wanted to own a horse which she could ride through the fields each day, letting the world admire their everlasting grace . . .

But Flora could make no effort for her mother’s dream to come true. However hard she tried, she could never succeed in satisfying her sad, gloomy mother, who hated New York and always overflowed with tears when she thought about how the Big Apple used to be beautiful wide-open farmland.

Yet Flora was not the only one trying to make Mrs. Woodward happy. Flora’s father Don also tried his very best to make his wife happy. But he never could either. Whenever he tried, Marietta would either yell at him at the top of her lungs or give him the full silent treatment. Their fights would always lead Flora to become either worried, annoyed, angry, or frightened. She knew, however, exactly why her parents were not splitting up: they did not want Flora to be depressed and sad for the rest of her life by it. Yet she wanted them to get a divorce, and for her mother to buy a beautiful farm in the Texas countryside. She just wanted everyone surrounding her to be happy. If that wish would come true, she too would be happy. She strongly wished her parents would just split up forever.

Then one night, Flora’s life changed forever. She couldn’t sleep because she was too busy crying; her parents were beginning their nightly fight. “It’s not my fault we’re not living on some silly farm!” cried Mr. Woodward. He continued by shouting, “I’m not going to make a living by selling pigs at auctions! I’ve got a steady job as the assistant manager of . . .”

At that point, he was interrupted by Mrs. Woodward, who screamed at the top of her lungs, “Oh, be quiet! I’m aware that you’ve got more important things to do than make me just a bit happier! I know you hate nature! I know your job is more important than me!” And after she let out this loud scream, there was a rather long pause. Tears were streaming out of the couple’s eyes during this pause, until Marietta broke the silence by calmly murmuring, “Don, you’re a good man. But I don’t, well, I guess I just don’t know how to love you. So I’m turning you . . .” At that point, chokes of sobs took over her speech, and she took her time to overcome them. She slowly took a deep breath and said, “Don, I think we should get a divorce, and I will find out how to get what I want by myself. So let’s just spend one last night together and then move on independently.”

They uncomfortably and lightly wrapped their arms around each other as Flora choked back tears. Her face was burning red in sadness, but if this was how things had to be, she would have to stop crying. She knew she would have to be brave.

For the next few months Mrs. Woodward was not officially divorced from her husband, but she did spend this time away from him, searching across the country for acres of wide-open land to live on. Flora stayed with her father, bravely keeping her chin up and choking back every single tear she dared to let out. “I will be brave, no matter what,” she told herself.

After a year passed by, Mrs. Woodward finally returned to New York, ignoring her husband and throwing her arms around Flora tearfully. But Flora herself did not let one single tear stream down her cheek because she had spent a whole year practicing to be brave. She would not become sad because, throughout her whole life, she had known that this was the best possible thing that could happen.

One night, Marietta called Don and Flora to the apartment’s kitchen table, holding back several lumps in her throat. Flora frowned but did not have any tears to choke back. Don simply smiled, trying to be brave like Flora. “My dear family,” began Marietta with a shaky voice, “in a week you will officially not be my family any longer. Don, I am divorcing you, for I am . . .” But at that point, she couldn’t help but cup her hands around her face and burst into tears. Don and Flora just sat in their seats, as silent as sloths. They patiently watched Marietta cry, until she continued with tears pouring from her eyes, “Don and Flora, I am engaged. I found a farmer down at a farm in the northern Texas countryside, and I, well, I just love him. We met and talked, and I fell in love with his farm and animals. I will be moving there in about a week. Flora, I assume you will be staying here.”

But Flora was collecting her thoughts. She thought it would be glorious to live on a beautiful Texas farm, riding graceful horses every day, not having to attend school, and watching the beautiful sunset each evening. After a long conversation, it was agreed that Flora would move to Texas with her mother, even though this was not wanted by Flora’s parents. Mrs. Woodward wanted to start a whole new family with this new man in Texas, away from Flora and Don . . . a family born to be countryside citizens.

After three weeks, official divorce papers were signed by Don and Marietta, and Flora and her mother had moved to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Flora had never seen such a wide-open space in her life. There was not a building in sight; there were only everlasting fields rushing into the horizon.

It was sunset when Marietta and Flora reached their new home in the Texas countryside. The man Marietta was engaged to was a fifty-year-old man named Jake Potter. He wore western clothes and he had a southern accent. Flora felt rather uncomfortable around him because he was such a “country boy.” He reminded her of a country singer the moment he guided her and Marietta into his house.

That night at exactly eleven forty-five PM, while Jake Potter and Flora’s mom were asleep in Jake’s small cottage, Flora snuck outside into the silent darkness, helplessly crying. She was so uncomfortable in such wide-open land like this, and she hated the fact that her mother was in love with a totally differentóand, in some cases, worseóman compared to her real father. Talking to the bright stars in the sky, she whispered in a crying, croaking voice, “Please don’t let my father fall in love with another woman. And don’t let me do something else wrong, for it was wrong of me to come here to the country. I want to go back to New York . . . ” And at that point, she ran into the farm’s barn and sat on a manger. She finally let her tears pour, without even trying to stop them.

About five nights later, Marietta walked into Flora’s bedroom and tucked her in. She then said, “Flora, guess what? I’ll be marrying Jake in three weeks. You’re going to be our flower girl!”

But on that wedding day, Flora almost died in sadness. A huge tear streamed out of her left eye when she watched Jake and her mother kiss; their lips seemed to touch with such romance and love. Flora just wanted to kick Jake in the stomach and scream, “How could you do this to me?!?” At that moment, the name “Marietta Woodward” changed to “Marietta Potter,” a new name which was harm to Flora’s ears.That night, Flora could not help herself. She did not belong in the countryside; she belonged in the Big Apple. She knew she had to be brave and tell her mother.

So when she woke up the next day, she licked her lips, took a deep breath, and collected every ounce of her courage. She walked into the kitchen, hoping to find only her mother there. She sighed with relief when she found out that only her mother was in the kitchen; Jake was asleep. “Good morning, Mom,” said Flora, who was brave and made sure her voice was normal, not shaky.

“Ah. There you are, Flora” was the response of Marietta, instead of a kind “Good morning, Flora.” But before Flora could start a conversation about leaving the countryside, Mrs. Potter said gently, “Flora, please sit down at the kitchen table. I need to have a serious talk with you.” So, without any words, Flora sat down at the kitchen table. After Marietta fixed herself a cup of coffee, she sat down as well. “Flora,” she began in a gentle tone, “this is going to be the most difficult thing you will ever hear, but it is still extremely important that I have this conversation with you. However, you can trust me when I tell you I am not saying this because I want to hurt you.” She looked at Flora as if she wanted a response from her.

So Flora simply said, “All right, fine.”

But Marietta was not completely satisfied with this simple response. “Flora, I need more encouragement than that because, believe me, my words will be terribly difficult. Are you sure you will not think I want to hurt you?”

Flora took a deep breath, lowered her eyebrows, and said, “Mom, you can have every confidence that I will not think you want to hurt me.”

But suddenly, Jake walked into the kitchen with bags under his eyes.

“Good morning, dear,” greeted Marietta, who was still a bit shocked from yesterday’s wedding kiss.

“Howdy,” croaked Jake sleepily, and he fixed himself some coffee.

After a long stare at Jake, Marietta finally realized she was staring at him and quickly turned around to face her daughter. “Well,” she said, “let’s get on with the conversation, shall we?”

She sipped her coffee and forced herself to act a bit more serious. She looked deeply into Flora’s eyes and said, “Flora, this is what I have longed for ever since I was fiveóa farm, a farmer for a husband, and everything else that I have right nowóexcept you. Now, Flora, let’s get serious, because this is where things get hurtful, all right?”

She looked even more deeply into Flora’s eyes, who responded by saying, “Mom, you can trust that I can take this. Don’t worry.”

Suddenly, Jake sat down with them at the kitchen table.

“Hello, honey,” greeted Mrs. Potter, and she romantically smiled at Jake.

“Mom, get on with it. You said we should be serious,” snapped Flora. She cupped her hands together and slid her chair a bit farther away from Jake. She then lowered her eyebrows and paid full attention to her mother.

Marietta also became serious and said, “Flora, I am thirty-nine years old. Back when I was twenty years old, I made the biggest mistake of my life: I married your father. The mistake about that was that he lived in New York, and I had to move into his crowded apartment. I wanted to live in wide-open spaces like this one, with fields everywhere and no buildings in sight. Then I had you, which was also a mistake, even though I love you very much. I know you will never forgive me for this, but I want to turn you down, just like I turned down your father. I want to start my adulthood all over again. I would like to forget I ever married your father and created the Woodward family. I want to start a whole new family who would live forevermore in the countryside. I want you to go back to New York and live a happy urban life with your father.”

At that very moment a tear fell from Flora’s eye, but she wanted no one to know, so she cupped her hands around her face. She brought all her courage back and put her chin up. “I want to live in New York myself,” she said, “for I know that you were meant to live here, and I was not. But I do forgive you for making the two biggest mistakes you ever made in your life. And, well, I love you too.” The two family members threw their arms around each other, but they did not cry. They both knew they had to be brave.

Half a week later, Marietta Potter drove Flora to an airport in Dallas. They both wanted to forget each other, so they said nothing to each other on the way there. They also said nothing once they reached the airport. Flora climbed the steps of her flight’s airplane very casually, even though she was doing the hardest thing she would ever do in her life. She sat down in a seat next to a stranger, but she sat on the side of the seat facing the window. Even though, as the airplane was rising up into the sky, she could have looked down at a clear vision of her mother, she turned down this opportunity. Choking back tears, she pulled all her concentration down onto the article of a magazine she had with her. Though that was a chance to gaze upon the person she loved most in the world, she did not do it. She knew she had to be brave.