Fiction: The Returner

This month's Words for Wednesday prompts are provided by Charlotte (MotherOwl) over here. This week's prompts are: building, tailfeather, trees, metal, cloak, linen and/or boots, ring, spirit, opera mints, phone, whole.

Fiction: The Returner
She came back to a new life but she had no idea how it happened. Nine months ago, she woke up in the beach house and found she was someone by the name of Carmen Nightingale. It somehow fit her. But there was a vague nag in the back of her mind telling her she had not always been Carmen Nightingale.
    As Carmen walked the beach in the early morning hours, her white boots accumulating sand at the toes, she kept her mind clear and moved her body automatically. It was as if she knew walking the beach each morning was an old habit even though she had no memory of doing it.
    The silver ring on her right forefinger gleamed under the dull light. She didn't know why she had the ring but she sensed it had belonged to another and now she was wearing it and probably because the owner had died.
    "Yoo-hoo!" A few distant away, Risa, Carmen's neighbor of only four months, waved from her chair. Carmen waved back. Risa always sat by the beach in the morning with her oversized hat, deep black sunglasses and a gigantic umbrella to keep her in the shade. As always, she was chewing on opera mints and reading a romance novel.
    A man in blue shorts and white shirt jogged past her. Carmen had seen the man many times before on the beach but he had never seen her. Or rather, he could not see her. For reasons she couldn't figure out, not many people could see her.
    Sometimes Carmen seemed like someone with no real body, just a spirit gliding along the streets, the beaches, the stores and various places, invisible but somewhat present. Other times, she couldn't be ignored even if she tried.
    Carmen walked on. Behind her, a phone rang. After three rings, Risa answered. "Yes, Jean, I'm alive. You don't have to call the priest." There was a pause. "Yes, yes, I'll try to answer on the first ring next time. Goodbye Jean." Risa's daughter called every day to check on her mother. Carmen liked the idea of someone checking on you just to make sure you're alive, as if it's evidence you're still around. Carmen wasn't old like Risa who would only admit to being 60 but she was probably close to 80. Carmen was nearly 40. Half her life had already passed but she had no clue what she had done with those 39 years. But she knew she was not married and had no relations, at least, none came to visit or called.
    In her dreams now and then, she saw herself as someone else living another life, doing things she had never done before. She moved with a certainty that her life was bleak and will remind bleak. Then she would wake and wonder what it all mean.
    A short woman wearing a sunhat with a tailfeather sticking out and carrying a Yorkshire terrier walked past Carmen. It was Mrs. Suzuki, the other neighbor of Carmen's. Carmen smiled at the woman but Mrs. Suzuki didn't respond. Carmen had gotten used to being invisible to a lot of people but she still had hoped some of them would see her someday. Mrs. Suzuki knew she had a neighbor named Carmen but she never could see Carmen. Once Mrs. Suzuki had said to Risa, perhaps Carmen was a recluse while Carmen was standing behind her. They were at Risa's barbecue housewarming party the day Risa had moved in. Risa just smiled at Carmen and continued serving burgers.
    Carmen looked toward the water. A gentle breeze flew over her. There was hardly sunlight today and the water was as still as if frozen in a photograph. She turned away and headed toward home, toward the buildings, the trees, metals gleaming their dull shine, linens flying in the cool breeze and the dark clouds hovering above like a cloak over the landscape. Carmen smiled. This was where she was. This was where she existed. She was still getting used to her whole new life, getting to know people and getting to know herself. It wasn't a completely new life but it wasn't an old one either, it was rather a perpetual life with a side of forgetfulness and bits of inconspicuousness.