The garden in front of the Bungalow looked a shade brighter in the rain. It was described as a proper garden. The various kind of flowers' plants lined the perfect garden in their wooden boxes on red bricks paved floor. In the centre, there was something like a table made of wood. On it the scissors, watering can, and some other tools of the garden were resting peacefully!
Dylan liked to observe that garden from the day he came here. Actually not the garden, his eyes were always on those flowers. There were so many kinds of flowers that he had never seen before. Especially the plant in the corner of the garden looked so beautiful. Something was special about that flower. But it was out of the garden bed! Why...?
Those features red, ball-shaped blooms topped by an impressive crown of small leaves and rising high at the end of the upright stem bearing lance-shaped glossy leaves.
He's never stepped in that garden just because that garden didn't belong to them. But not today! When it'll stop raining, he'll definitely go. He set up his mind on that. He didn't know if he'll get a chance again or not because they'll leave this place tonight.
Almost an hour later the relentless rain finally stopped. Dylan took his shoes and slowly stepped out of the house, trying not to disturb his grandfather who was packing his clothes. Yes, he was here with his grandfather. He carefully closed the door behind him before glancing at the garden on the opposite side of their villa.
He started taking steps towards the garden slowly, rolling his eyes around the garden, checking if there was someone in the garden or not. Seeing no one there, he grinned and walked into the garden.
There was a big tree just beside the garden. He looked up at the clear sky through the gap between the leaves of the tree. The least of light was peeking from those gaps, and glittering the droplets of the leaves. Taking a deep breath, he looked down and fixed his gaze at that red flower in the corner.
Then he averted his gaze at the first plant of the line, producing delicate, fern-like leaves and fluffy yellow flowers.
Out of curiosity, he touched that yellow flowers' plant. "God!" He almost jumped as the compound leaves fold inward and droop. "Ah! It's scary. What's this?" He blinked his eyes at that flower and planned to touch it again. But before he could touch it again, he heard footsteps coming towards the garden.
He widened his eyes and tried to find a way to run away. He turned to run to his Villa but stopped by a girl's voice from behind.
"Wait there. Who is that in my garden?"
This voice seemed like the voice of a little girl around his age. He straightened himself as he realized he was stealing flowers from her garden. So he shouldn't behave like a thief. He took a deep breath before turning to look at the girl. He was right. She is around his age. That means 12-13. She said it's her garden, really?
He tilted his head and pointed out the red blossom plant. "I like that flower. I was here to take a closer look of it. It's beautiful." He said firmly.
The little girl crossed her arms and nodded. "Everything looks beautiful from far away." The little girl's word made him confused. "Don't go near that plant, if you don't want to get scared by that flower." She warned him.
"Why?" He raised his brows.
"That is a crown imperial blossom plant. One of the most bad-smelling flowers. They stink. They have a strong, musky scent, a bit like a skunk. That's why I'm keeping that out of my garden bed."
"Oh!" Dylan then pointed his finger on the scary plant beside him. "What about this? It's a scary plant!"
"The name of this plant is Mimosa pudica. Another name Shameplant, that responds to touch and other stimulation by rapidly closing its leaves and drooping to defend themselves from harm. Those leaves re-open again." The little girl explained.
Dylan understood this girl is smart enough and has a lot of knowledge about plants. But his curiosity on those plants has disclosed now. Now his new curiosity is this girl. There are so many girls in his school he studies with. But none of them is as beautiful as her. She was simple but exceptionally beautiful. She was wearing a white t-shirt, a jean jacket over the t-shirt and a back ladies' jean with a scarf around her neck. She has long messy hair. But still pretty.
His gaze stopped at her hand, she was holding something in her hand. "It's your garden?" He asked curiously.
She nodded. "This place belongs to my father. But the one who made this garden is me. Obviously, my father helped me a lot." All of a sudden she opened her fist and put the thing she was holding on the table and started tying her hair in a ponytail.
Dylan glanced at the table and saw a flower. It's a rose. Peach color! "From where did you find this flower? The peach color rose is rare here."
After tying her hair, she just glanced at that rose for once before giving it to him. "Take this. I was planning to keep this inside my diary. But I'm giving this to you."
"Why are you giving this to me?" He had always known that roses are for special persons.
"Because you've come to see my garden. I'm happy for that." She paused and pressed her palm on her forehead as she reminded something. "I'm late. I really need to run now. My father will get angry. Bye. See you soon." She said before started turning around, running towards the exit.
"What's your name?" Dylan shouted. Even he didn't understand why did he ask. But he really wanted to know. Maybe he'll be able to see her again.
"You can call me crown flower." The girl shouted back as she turned her face to him and gave him a smile, still running. Seeing her bright smile, he felt some discomfort inside his heart. It's unfamiliar.
"Yah. My name is Dylan...." He shouted but the girl was already out of sight. "Dylan Nelson. I'm going back to the city tonight." He whispered with disappointment.
That girl left a deep impression inside his heart that day. Something was really special about her. Why did she tell me to call her Crown flower? Which stinks?
Dylan's eyes rounded when he heard his grandfather's voice. He turned around and saw his grandfather standing in front of the door. "Coming." He quickly made his way to the penthouse. Though his grandfather was very friendly, he was angry-type.
"Dylan where did you go?" He asked Dylan as he saw him coming to him, running.
Dylan bent to untied his shoe's knots. "I was just looking around." While saying that, he put his shoes outside and entered the house.
Times started passing like the speed of the light. Hours felt like minutes. Minutes felt like seconds. Dylan was staring at the garden from his window. Now his eyes weren't fixed on any flowers. His eyes searching for the little girl. But she still hasn't come back. Where did she go?
"Dylan. Time to go." His grandfather reminded him.
Dylan glanced at the clock. And yes it's time to go back. Too soon. He took a last glance at the garden before closing the window and rushed towards the outside of the house where his grandfather was waiting.
The next year Dylan forced his parents to come to Jeju to this penthouse again. He won convincing his parents but failed to see the person for whom he tried to win. He heard they sold this house and moved to the city. But which city? No one knows that. That crown flower lied to him. She said she'll see him soon. But she'd never showed up in front of him after that day.
The plants were not in that garden anymore. No, actually there was. But only one. The Crown Imperial flower plant! When Dylan asked the new owner about this plant. He said he'll throw this plant away. They forgot to take this plant with them.
Days... Months... Years started passing by... The memory of the little girl started transferring to the down edge of his heart. The mark she left that day started to dense there like opaque paints. Like a glass covered with dust.
People just notice the dirt settled on the glass of the windows but the dust on windowsills often go unnoticed just like the long-faded memory. But it still stays there. In a corner of our crowded heart under so many certain memories. It may be fades, but before fading away, it leaves with another mark. The mark which drawn with forever named ink.