Then Exquisite Peace
THEN: EXQUISITE PEACE
Razor waves in a frantic gesture to catch up.
My lungs scream for air as I duck through the trees as quickly and quietly as I can. We’ve done a lot of this over the last few days—running… dodging… hiding.
But his expression is different than it’s been when I reach him. The fear has been replaced by excitement.
He motions for silence as he tugs me down beside him.
“Look,” he whispers.
I peek through the clearing and suppress a gasp. The largest buck I’ve ever seen munches on leaves in the distance. Visible behind him is a doe and a fawn.
I sense Razor’s gaze as I study the happy family. He must remember what happened with the ducks. He should, since he was the one ordered to lock me in the dark for crying over them. He was also the one who freed me hours later with a clenched jaw and shaking hands.
“They’re so beautiful,” I breathe out.
He nods and averts his eyes when I glance over. Were they glistening?
I slide a dirty sleeve across my own to clear my vision.
It’s been two days since he rescued me from that lake. Every minute on the run has been excruciating and wonderful. I’m hungry. Tired. Caked in grime. I’ve traded an extravagant mansion for absolutely nothing. No home, no food, no money, barely the clothes on my back—and yet, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
Freedom, the most valuable thing there is.
I turn back to the family of deer and watch them enjoy a moment of exquisite peace.
“Do it,” Razor whispers.
I meet his smiling eyes in confusion.
“Write, kid. I know you want to.”
Prickles of fear rush through me as I shake my head on instinct. “I don’t do that anymore. I swear…”
I stop when he pulls something from his bag.
A composition book.
A pen.
He hands them to me with a sad smile.
“You don’t have to hide anymore. You’re an artist, Jonah. They never should have tried to take that from you. Of all their sins, their greatest was trying to erase the beauty inside you. You’re better than all of us. Never forget that. You’re not what they made you.”
I swallow hard as I take the notebook and stare at the treasure in my hands.
“Razor—”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Then, what should I call you?”
His sad eyes search mine. “Whatever you want. In time, you’ll find something that feels right.”
I bite my lip, not sure what he means by that.
When I look back at the deer, they’ve moved further into the woods. The buck lifts his head and angles it in my direction.
For a few seconds, I breathe borrowed air as our souls connect.
This is freedom, he tells me. This is living.
Somewhere there’s a hunter. Or a car. Or a disease ready to ravage their peace.
But that’s a future story.
For now, they have something priceless. And those are the moments we live for.
Today I am alive.
Hope.
It’s a foreign land with a rising tide and I’ve stumbled upon it as a castaway, but a moment to breathe feels like resurrection when you’ve spent your whole life underwater.
There’s this shadow that the sun casts and I can’t seem to escape the darkness of its trail, but shade means coverage, some kind of makeshift shelter, even if it is just a break in the clouds or a branch overhead.
For once it isn’t a threat, it’s simply provision in a moment and I am learning to cherish these breaths. Come hell or high water, freedom comes at a cost, and nearly losing my life for the sake of it brings me to my knees in awe.
When life unravels before me and I lose touch with my senses, I pray this is the moment that flashes before my eyes.
-JD June 22