There was once a girl named Ciel Courtois who was only distinguishable by the hat that she wore. In fact, I would have forgotten who she was, or at least what her name was without this hat, which happened to be a well-shaped, bright red cloche that could never have possibly matched with what she was wearing, but did not look particularly bad, as I remember that I liked the hat very much. I cannot recall what she looked like beyond this, but I certainly noticed her, and when I saw her I knew her, and with what seemed like intimate knowledge that should have been reserved selectively for close friends.
It was a summer that I met her, well, that is wrong- in actuality I cannot remember what season it was, only that it was warm and I did not need sleeves or length to my skirt, and my hair had been cut short to accommodate the sun that did not care for the comfort of those it watched. And also, if we did in fact meet, we did not acquaint well. She didn’t know my name, as I did not tell her my real one when we traded hands and lightly smothered each other with passive gestures and words that touched but never kissed.
“Hello, I am Ciel Courtois. Pleasure.” She extended her hand and acknowledged me with a slight rising of her strange hat. Her face was hidden in shadows, (created by dips and coils of light, or by my careless memory I cannot say,) though I could tell that she was smiling thinly, as if she were overwhelmingly uncertain.
“I am Alice. You come by often?” I replied, giving her hand a delicate shake and presenting a winsome smile that faltered slightly as it grew old.
“Hm. I can’t know, have you seen me around here many times?” She answered, not mockingly in the least, but as if this simple truth was somehow not important enough to hold onto.
“Yes, I sit here, on this stair, and watch the people pass, and you have crossed my path at least eleven times in the last twenty-two minutes.” I replied almost wearily as my curiosity was not fervent enough to keep me engaged.
“Really? That must be why you smiled at me as I walked by just now.” She frowned to herself, as if she were trying to draw a thought from somewhere that no longer existed. She touched her hat instinctively; just grazing the side with her fingernail just like she would reach out for a railing that she had to confirm was there. “Why do you sit here always…is it just to watch people walk by?” She added suddenly, after studying me for a brief moment and taking a slow breath that caught the air around her off guard.
“Yes, I come to know more about people by watching them do nothing but go from one place to another and disappear as easily as they came. But you are different, you did not disappear, you became clearer and clearer. This is why I smiled. And now I stand talking to you, the only person who does not seem to be going anywhere.”
“Why do you believe that I am not going anywhere?” She questioned, appearing slightly offended, yet childishly so.
“You walk in circles, I have seen you. You go from the corner of that street to the edge of the pathway and then walk back. You do this over and over and I cannot imagine that you have a destination in mind.” I defended, subtly challenging her.
“How do you know it is always me?” She replied stubbornly.
“Your hat, that red hat always indicates that it is you.” I laughed, shocked that she would not come to this conclusion herself.
“Ah, I see.” She bowed slightly and turned to walk away. “Goodbye Alice,” she called back to me as she joined the crowd of people, who seemed to be congruous, and identity- less. I saw her walk by at least two more times, each time she would look at me with a mixture of sadness (for me or for herself?) and amusement. Then I noticed her remove her red cloche and carefully place it on the naked branch of a tree. I was able to follow her back into the crowd, but after that I was never sure if she was still walking back and forth or if she had moved on, as she had become a part of the collective and someone who I could not separately discern. I sat alone on the stairs by the sidewalk and looked only for her, while before it did not matter to me who I watched.
“Miss, are you looking for anyone?” An anonymous person once stopped to ask me.
“No. I am looking someone in particular, but I do not expect to find her.” I replied wistfully.
“Then why do you still search?” This person answered, an ironic smile on their mouth.
“I do not know. Perhaps because I hope to find her eventually, or perhaps because I cannot move on without knowing if she is here.”
In the end I left my solitary spot on the stairs and headed home, though I felt as if I was still seated there, gazing intensely at the people that flowed in a monochromatic wave.
Suddenly I knew what it felt like to wander in circles, and then it occurred to me where Ciel was. I put on a coat and ran back to my spot. The sun no longer shone down on the street and so I had to squint to see through the shadows that moved in the blurry dark illuminated only by the cold light of the moon. First I saw her hat, still hanging stiffly from a branch. Then I saw her, a small figure that was only a part of a background. I waved at her, expecting her to approach me. Instead I saw her eyes widen, and then her distant body turn around and run deeper into the landscape at a pace that was much too desperate for the lethargic curtains of night that hung heavy and precariously by fraying ropes.
“Ciel!” I called out, “I know where you are going, I want to come with you!” I could see her stop for a moment and lean towards my words. Then she shook her head, one of those gestures that is only accentuated by darkness, and yelled back,
“I know where I go, but it is not for you to follow.” She sank into the scenery and I knew that she was truly gone.
I walked up to the low hanging branch and pulled the hat off of it. It no longer looked stately, dignified, or even slightly beautiful, only abandoned and alone. I put it on and adjusted it so that it fit. Then I slowly walked home, turning back and retracing my footsteps every once and awhile to make sure that I would always know where I had departed from and which direction I planned to go.
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