Morning, Day One
Dear Gilbert Bougainvillea,
I am doing well. I am healthy, and I have arrived at Ms. Adelaide's house without any issue. Ms. Adelaide is a client of the CH postal company. She had been diagnosed with a form of dementia, and her memory is receding. She had asked me to write letters to herself in the future, though I have yet to write any letters for her. There is not much else for me to say, other than the town here is stunning. Oh, but her favorite color is the same as mine- emerald green- the color of my brooch, her skirts, her curtains… your eyes.
I think I miss you.
Sincerely, Violet Evergarden
Violet had arrived, yet again, to a rural home on the western side of Astrea. The trees were healthy and green, one of the many signifiers of mid-spring. The journey may have been long, but the scenery was stunning. Green fields surrounded the dirt roads, dewy from the night's past rain. Spring flowers were popping out gradually, taking on beautiful fierce shades of red and white and purple. Birds glided through the vast sky; their wings spread as far as the ocean. How nice it must be to live here, Violet thought, taking in a breath of the gentle air.
The house she had arrived at was old and worn. The ivory-colored paint was peeling, and the windows had not been dusted in a while, but the flowers surrounding the front porch were well taken care of. There was a great assortment of flowers- pink and yellow and purple. The list went on. Violet walked up the dirt driveway, but before she could make it to the porch steps, a middle-aged woman opened the door, "Hello! Are you the doll I hired?"
"Yes," Violent responded, as she finished walking up the steps. She curtseyed, "It is a pleasure to meet you. If it is your wish, I will travel anywhere in the world to meet your request. Auto Memory Doll, Violet Evergarden, at your service."
The woman waved her away, "No need for that! Now, come inside. My name is Adelaide Kraus, by the way. Oh, you probably already know that. Anyway, would you like something to eat or drink? Or do you want me to show you your room first?"
"I do not mind. We can start work immediately, if that is what you wish," Violet said.
Adelaide shook her head, "No, please! You must be tired. You came all the way from Leidenschaflich."
"Ms. Adelaide, please do not worry. I'm used to it."
Adelaide's smile faltered for a moment, thrown off by Violet's direct and indifferent mannerism. She changed the topic, "I can't imagine all of the things you have seen, travelling the world like you do. It must be beautiful."
"Yes, it is."
Adelaide's eyes became dreamy. She clasped her hands together, "I'm so jealous! I've always wanted to travel. Unfortunately, my string of bad health has kept me home-bound.
Violet nodded, "I understand you have requested me here for five days. That would be enough time to tell you of my travels, if you would like, Ms. Adelaide."
"Oh! That's wonderful!" But then her eyes filled with sadness, "But sadly, I must decline. Hearing your stories will only make me more envious. It is not a good feeling."
"No, I suppose not."
Adelaide's eyes were a baby blue color, contradictingly to her fierce red hair. It reminded Violet of the red flowers she had passed on the trip. Adelaide spoke of being too sick to do anything, yet her demeanor seemed free and restless. She acted younger than her wrinkles told, and an abundance of hope was still left in her eyes. Violet had once believed that everyone's eyes were tired-looking, lacking any freedom or will-power, but that was during the war. The only thing that had driven those soldiers was the adrenaline and the determination to fight for their countries. As time grew on, the only real hope they had was to survive. Many didn't. Adelaide wore everyday clothing; her skirt was the color of Violet's brooch.
"Let me take your things," Adelaide offered, "I'll show you to your room."
"Thank you," said Violet, "But I don't mind."
"Your choice," Adelaide shrugged, "Follow me, now."
The walls of Adelaide's house were made of polished walnut wood. A wooden desk was by the living room windows, and books and maps were piled messily on top. Those things were also piled up on the brick fireplace. On nearly every wooden surface, candles were waiting to be lit. They seemed to be the only source of artificial light. However, they were not lit, because the curtains were pulled, letting the sunlight flood into the room. Skinny wooden columns raised and glided across the ceiling. Marigold bouquets were in vases, waiting on the window stills.
"You know, I had never expected for a child to show up! How old are you?" Adelaide asked.
"I do not know my exact age, because I am an orphan. However, I believe I am around fourteen."
"So young! You have so much time left!" Adelaide exclaimed.
"You are only in your forties, Ms. Adelaide. Generally, forty would not be considered old," Violet remarked.
Oh, but I am ill and forgetful. There is nothing left for me. Not anymore," Adelaide sighed.
"May I ask what you mean?"
"Right, of course. I suppose I haven't been very clear. Two years ago, I was diagnosed with dementia. Now, I cannot bear to think about it, so please, let us change the topic."
"My apologies, Ms. Adelaide."
Adelaide shook her head and waved her hand, "It's quite alright."
Violet was being led up a row of unsturdy stairs. They creaked below Violet's feet. Warm autumn landscape paintings were hung up on the walls. Violet couldn't help but feel comfortable in the home's cozy ambiance. Violet followed Adelaide into a small room; it was similar to her room in Leiden. Beside a desk, there was a simple white bed.
"This is my guest bedroom. I do not often have guests, but I still like to keep one, just in case."
"Of course," Violet said, placing her suitcase beside the bed. They stared at each other for a moment. Violet did not sense the awkwardness of the atmosphere, and she waited patiently for Adelaide to give her further instructions. Instead, Adelaide leaned her weight against the doorway.
"It's still morning. Why don't I show you around town. It's nothing special, and I bet you've travelled to so many beautiful places that this place is a dump compared to them. Although, it could be the opposite. You could have been to so many disastrous places that my town seems like heaven when compared. I'm not sure where you have been. Were you a doll during the war? If you were, you must have seen so many terrible things. Oh, but what am I saying? You're way too young for that! Surely, your postal service wouldn't send a child out onto the war front… I'm sorry. I talk too much sometimes."
"I don't mind. From what I've seen, your town looks gorgeous," Violet responded, expressionless.
"Really?! You want to see the town?!"
"Yes, if that is what you wish, Ms. Adelaide," Violet simply stated. Adelaide grabbed Violet's hand and smiled, the lines of her face wrinkling.
"Come on, then!" Adelaide chirped.