Mayflower

• Anna Williams, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2009

The factory looms ahead of me. As I walk in, I see a staircase. The wood is soft, but I place my feet gently, heading upstairs. The first thing I see is an old man sitting in the corner of the room. He looks up at me. He holds out a shaky hand and shows me a mayflower, without saying anything. I take it from him, frowning.
“Please take it to my wife’s ghost. She needs it,” he croaks.
I am puzzled as to what this man is saying.
“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t do that. There’s no such thing as ghosts,” I say gently.
He looks at me pityingly.
“Climb to the top of the crane. She will be there. I am too old to take the flower to her,” he says, wearily.
I gasp. The crane is about two hundred metres high. How am I supposed to climb it? Instead of refusing, I nod and take the mayflower. I walk back down the stairs. The air of the street is thick with the intensity of silence. The great yellow crane rises ahead of me. I feel like the concrete is going to open up and swallow me whole. I reach the ladder and put my foot on the first rung. The metal is cold under my warm fingers. I climb higher and higher. I make the big mistake of looking down. My head fells dizzy. One of my hands slips off the bars as I try to balance myself. I shriek, my voice echoing over the whole factory, bouncing off the buildings.
I take a deep breath and climb on. I don’t even know why I am doing this. It may have been the look of pleading in that man’s eye that is keeping me going. I reach the top of the crane. My hands grip the hard metal as I haul myself up. I lie there flat on my face for about ten minutes, trying to convince myself that I am not two hundred metres up in the air - that I am at home, safely tucked up in my bed.
Finally, I peel my face away from the surface and look up. There, I see what looks like a wisp of smoke in front of me. It slowly starts to change shape. It twists and turns until finally, it takes the shape of a person, but not just any person - this figure is transparent. She smiles at me and I realize she is old. She holds out her hand, and I know exactly what to do. I place the mayflower in her hand and nod. She smiles.
As soon as the flower touches her hand, it becomes transparent and she starts to float away. I watch in awe and drink in the scene. For the first time in my life, I have put my own needs and fears aside to do something meaningful for someone else. It feels good.