A/N: On the writing platform TheProse, creator THATGRLZOE7 wrote a story called ‘CLARA.’ It’s about a woman who discovered an out-of-place iron gate that leads to a sentient-feeling garden, showing streams of her past and a possible future. A mysterious woman explains what the place is, but no more. I commented that I loved the story but wanted to know more about the mystery woman. Author THATGRLZOE7 gave me permission and the honor of writing who I thought that woman was.
The following is my homage to the original story, ‘Clara.’
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The gate did not appear again for almost 2 years.
The first time she saw it, Clara was on vacation, taking a quiet walk behind the Airbnb cottage she rented while following an unmarked trail. Today, it materialized after she’d followed a scenic hiking path in New York City’s Central Park.
The wide path, filled with roses and cherry blossom trees , suddenly became narrow. In the center of the path, a wrought iron gate wrapped in ivy appeared. Yellow orchids, her favorite flower covered the metal handle. Afternoon sunlight and the song of birds eased the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach. Clara did not summon this unique entrance to a garden paradise, at least that’s what she told herself. Taking two steps forward, she opened the gate.
A mysterious woman dressed in a deep blue shawl with embroidered bell sleeves and a diadem made of hammered gold appeared in the garden as though she had grown from it. Her hair threaded with silk reflected in the afternoon light as her gray eyes held the calmness of a still ocean.
“You’re part of the garden, aren’t you?” Clara asked.
“A fragment of it,” the woman replied. “I knew you’d come back one day.”
“How? I don’t understand why I’m here… so how could you?” Clara demanded.
“Everyone comes to me for the same reason. Emotionally significant moments from the past and present are sorted in the garden to guide the future.” With a wave of her hand, the woman said; view what you have not spoken.”
Clara remembered the last time she entered the garden she saw herself as a child. This time she was a young woman having a conversation with a friend, too distracted to fully hear. Then she saw the choice she made to sleep ten minutes longer rather than having a phone conversation with her grandmother when she could. The mysterious woman stood in-between a past Clara and the present one.
Present Clara saw a vision of herself in the heart of a city. The vision changed to a medical building. Clara gave a piece of cake to an old woman who didn’t recognize her. A party was in full swing when the image changed to the college Clara attended. On the desk where she studied held certificates of future achievements. On the floor covered in dirt were red scrolls marked ‘failures.’ She tried to grab a scroll but her past self blocked her as the vision faded.
Clara winced, then turned to the mystery woman as her past self faded as well.
“How do I make an adequate future decision if I can’t read those documents or recall these events? I need to be able to remember,” Clara protested.
“You’ll remember enough,” the mystery woman said. Memory is the seed. Practice is the growth,” she emphasized. “If a time comes for more guidance, call on me,” she affirmed.
“Well,” Clara thought. “What do I call you?” she asked.
“Call me one of the many names you used in the past when something weighed on your mind. You have called me intuition, conscience, and gut feeling. Others have called me fate, regret, fear, and sometimes hope,” the mystery woman revealed.
Clara noted she had all those feelings in the past. Hope being the one that brought her to the gate on this occasion.
“Those are generalizations, but not your name. I want to be able to call you something,” Clara insisted.
“If you must call me by a specific name, then call me Threshold,” she declared. “As needed, I greet you when you open the gate, when you stand in the garden between the past and possible futures. I offer you glimpses to help you choose a future direction. It’s me who gives you a flicker of discomfort when you do wrong. That quiet yes when something unfamiliar is good for you… comes from me. I am the point at which something begins, changes, or triggers a reaction. I’m the Threshold,” she explained.
Clara thought of every time she had overridden that quiet voice, labeling it as anxiety as she did in front of the gate.
“I haven’t been very good at listening,” Clara admitted.
“You are here,” Threshold said simply. “You opened the gate. This is active listening,” she assured Clara.
A sudden involuntary chill and a prickling sensation took over Clara’s body. It passed like a quick wave. Goosebumps. This time Clara didn’t ignore her intuition.
“Was that feeling my clue it’s time to go?” Clara asked.
“For now,” Threshold replied.
“Will I come back again?”
“That’s up to you,” Threshold said. “The gate appears when two things happen at once: your past grows too heavy to carry alone, and your future has too many roads to pick. You can visit this place to see them both or meet them head-on out there.”
Threshold pointed to an invisible line where the garden met the real world.
“Thank you,” Clara said, stepping toward the gate exit without looking back. A faint odor hovered in the air that smelled like every season all at once.
The garden vanished as Clara walked along the widening scenic path. She decided to invite her best friend over for dinner to catch up on each other’s lives. Then she would buy her grandmother a birthday cake and invite family to the nursing home that cared for her. Grandma Marie suffered from dementia, but she had days when her memory returned. She vowed to take advantage of her good days by visiting more often.
Clara’s mind went back to the school vision. What was written on the red scrolls marked ‘failure?’ A chill came over Clara’s body. Goosebumps. She listened to her intuition.
“When the time comes, I’ll worry about things I can’t control… in a nice garden,” she decided.
End
Some of my stories are on TheProse also. It’s writing without the blog. Over there, I’m known as NITERITER365. Just so ya know.
Fictionista 