Morning Light

Early evening in New York City can be the most crazy time of day, traffic from people going home, commuters crowding in subways and trains, tons of people walking, lining the streets like a swarm of tense yet anxious bees, bee lining for their hives in the City. It can also be the time of day where silence is golden in an apartment in Manhattan, where the outside world does not exist for Autumn Rose Oakland.

Autumn is sitting on the window seat in her apartment, watching the snow drift by and staring up into the dark gray clouds, waiting for the calm to break like the shattering of glass. Everything is on in her apartment, from the stove to the laptop, but she is not there. It is as if her spirit had escaped from her and is roaming everywhere she wishes to go and talking to everyone she wishes she knew. Breaking her train of thought and spirit separation is her cell phone ringing, filling the air with Cheap Trick’s “That ‘70s song”. She glances at the name lighting up, hesitating to pick it up. It was Holden Carey, this guy in her Lit class who she tutors because he’s, as her professor put it, “misdirected on his career path”. He has no idea what he wants to be, but he is considering being a pro soccer player (Yes, he’s that good), a doctor, or a lawyer with no backup plan in case his career choices do not work out. Autumn answers the phone, knowing the conversation about to take place.

“Hello,” answered Autumn in a dazed voice to the still silent Holden.

“Hey, Autumn, it’s Holden. How are you?” he replied.

“Good, how bout-”, started Autumn but was cut off.

“Listen”, Holden interjected, “I was wondering if you’re not busy or anything, if you could help me with Professor Blackwell’s big character analysis paper. I have no idea what I’m doing”.

“I’ll help you, come to my place in like an hour,” said Autumn.

That is Autumn, she could never say no to anyone, she is a pushover as her friends tell her. An hour goes by, she begins to get anxious, the frantic anxious that sets in when a friend is coming over and your house has to look perfect for whatever reason. Autumn straightened out her apartment, a master at last minute cleaning which involved putting her dirty clothes in the back of the closet and shoving scattered books under her bed. Her buzzer rang, knowing it is Holden from glancing out the window a few moments before and seeing him pass by her corner window, she lets him in. She sees Holden, looking red from the cold and desperation in his eyes.

“Want something to drink? Tea, soda, coffee, water?” she offered.

“Tea sounds great, thanks, ” he replied plopping onto the couch and emptying out his backpack, taking off his wet jacket and putting it on the coat rack.

“Sugar, okay?” asked Autumn, not realizing the teapot was already hot and almost burning herself.

“Actually, I take milk,” he replied with a slight smile.

She poured the milk watching it curdle like clouds (Great, now Autumn was thinking of Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain”).

“Let’s get started, what character do you want to do?” said Autumn cheerfully, smiling at her own random thought.

Holden thought for a second, racking his brain for something he actually read and completed, not put down after one page. “I was thinking Holden Caulfield from Catcher in the Rye.”

Autumn looked at him, “You’re not just choosing him because you two happen to share the same name?” she said with a small smile beginning to form.

“Actually, I really liked the book. I loved the character of Holden, his sarcasm, and his whole outlook on life. He’s someone I’d definitely want as a friend,” he replied with that coy smirk on his face. That smirk always got to Autumn, it annoyed her, but she wished she was in on the big secret that was the reason for the smirk.

Hours passed, they took notes, made charts, comparisons of Holden to life and other fictional characters, and listened to music. Holden had to leave Autumn’s apartment eventually, something he was making no attempt to do. It was getting late. Snow was falling harder and the gray sky of evening was replaced with an inky counterpart with stars just visible in the polluted air. Autumn did not want Holden to leave because the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. By 1 A.M., he really had to leave.

“I really have to go now. I have a class in a few hours,” he said somewhat reluctantly and halfheartedly. He glanced outside at the snow that had accumulated to about 2 feet. “Though I doubt, we’ll actually have classes tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you out,” said Autumn, reaching for her coat but changing her mind at the last second. Before Holden goes, I have to tell him something. I do not know why I am choosing him to tell, but I am. Something inside is telling me, it has to be him.

“Hey Holden, do not go just yet, wait until the snow stops (Good excuse she thought) it looks pretty bad out,” Autumn said nervously.

“Umm, okay. I do not know why you are telling me about the weather conditions but it has snowed worse than this,” he said annoyed and pointed outside, “in New York City”. “I think I can make it out okay, but if I don’t tell Professor Blackwell, the snow ate my paper,” he joked

getting up and gathering his things.

“Holden, stop being such an idiot!” Autumn shouted exasperated. “There’s a reason I want to keep you here and it’s not because of the snow. It is because I have to tell you something and I need you to listen and not say anything. Okay?!”.

He nodded with a serious look on his face. Autumn sat there on her couch and told Holden everything about her mom, her family, and her past. When she finished, tears were streaming down her face. Autumns always used to cry when she was younger when her mom would scream profanities at her and destroy her as a person. She would lie in bed at night, cry herself to sleep, and let the pain of her mother’s words eat at her heart. She was so emotionally damaged that she kept numbing the pain, telling herself no one deserved to be treated the way her mother treated her, but now the anesthesia was wearing off and her emotions were in pieces on the floor. Holden hugged her and for a while she let him, resting her head on his gray sweater, knowing he brought her comfort and calmed her inner turmoil.

“Why did you tell me this?” he asked slowly, looking deep into her eyes.

“Because I was afraid, this would be my last chance to. I had to take this risk, where my courage opened the door for me, or else I never would have found the strength,” she said to the floor, afraid to see the expression on Holden’s face, after this girl he hardly knew, just poured out her past in muddy puddles. When she looked back up, he had this bemused look on his face. She could tell he had no idea what to say or what to think.

“I guess you should probably go now, it’s almost morning,” Autumn whispered to break the silence.

The snow was still falling, and a sliver of light could be seen peaking through the darkness. She began to wipe away her tears with her hand, when Holden stopped her. He gently wiped away her tears with his finger. He looked at her, she looked at him. Autumn knew he was the missing piece to her broken spirit. He cradled her face in his hands, leaned in, and kissed her in a way she was never kissed before. They slowly broke apart, looked outside, and saw the storm was over, the early morning light shining through, casting a glow on Autumn where once darkness only lived.

Note: Story based on the song “Morning Light” by The Graham Colton Band.