Writing The Rainbow: The Memories of Orange.

I could not have been older than five. I was sailing with my father and the moment we stepped out onto the deck that evening I noticed, the orange sky.

It may have been my first orange sky.

I was a kid and in kid world roses are red and skies are blue.

"Why is the sky orange?" I asked my father.

"Sometimes after a storm, the sky turns orange," he explained.

We stayed out on deck until night fell; such colour in the sky was nothing short of magic.

A few years later my parents were contemplating divorce because my father had just discovered my mother's long-standing infidelity. He had flown home right after her lover's wife had contacted him on board and informed him of the dalliances of their respective spouses. My sister, still young enough to be somewhat oblivious, was sent to the home of a relative for a few days. I wanted to go too but mom insisted that I stay.

For a few days there was screaming, fighting, long hours spent behind closed doors and accusations thrown about.

Three days this continued.

On the fourth day I couldn't participate anymore; it felt like we were going around in circles. Long, unnecessary circles.

Sometime around the afternoon a storm approached and the rain started to fall heavily. I slipped out from the screaming and let myself out on the terrace. The rain washes everything away; all I really need to be happy in life is rain. The thunder and lightening were just icing.

Everything around me was gloriously gray.

After the rain stopped I went inside my room to change. I dried my hair with a towel and sat down on my bed. On the edge of my bed, because I told myself that I would go check up on my parents any minute now. But by the time I left my room, my hair were completely dry.

I walked towards the staircase only to notice that the door to the terrace was open. I went outside and saw my father standing near the railing, looking up into the orange sky.

I walked to him; I could tell he had been crying. I stood next to him. Silently.

Long minutes of silence passed before he finally asked, "Did you always know?"

"Yes," I said, firmly planting the seed of guilt into our relationship forever.

"I don't blame you," he lied.

"I know," I said in acceptance of his lie.

"I just have to know one thing..." he said softly.

"Sure, dad. Anything," I said.

"Did he ever...touch you?" he asked looking straight ahead.

"Of course..not," I lied and he knew the moment the lie fell off my tongue.

He looked toward me.

He lifted his hand as if to put it around my shoulder but then decided to put it back on the railing.

"Don't worry," he said looking ahead once again, "We'll stay together."

We stood there in silence once again; both of us purposefully avoiding each other's gaze.

"Look dad," I said finally a little while later,"The sky turned orange."

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly, "Sometimes after a storm, the sky turns orange."

......

Read the rest of the "Writing The Rainbow" series here.