28. Joy
JOY
“He appeared in my life, his hair messy and short, and his heart big and wild.”
- RAFAEL’S JOURNAL ENTRY
Seconds turned into minutes as I waited for any response from Jameson, anything other than the embarrassment that began to seep into the bottom of my trousers and crawl up my leg.
“This is useless,” I sighed, opening my eyes.
But everything had vanished. The sisters and Florence, gone. The tilted trees and the soft splashes from the ocean.
All gone.
In their stead was four concrete walls that seemed to suck the life out of an already lifeless place. Movement in the corner caught my eye, a lump shivering.
“Jameson?” I whispered, too afraid to hope. The lump shivered more aggressively but did not roll over. I crept toward it slowly, hand extended to pull back the blanket.
“Joy?” A small voice sounded from behind me and I spun to face it. “I wouldn’t move that blanket if I were you, Rafael is a miserable sod on the best days and downright insufferable on the worst.” Jameson’s signature grin hung lopsided on his face. The breath caught in my throat and the blood drained from my face at the sight of him. My dear friend, finally found. I raced toward him, opening my arms to embrace him.
But my arms swung right through him, as though I was made of air and nothing more.
I stared at his battered face, dried blood cracking on his now hollowed cheeks. How long had it been since he ate? Drank clean water? The concrete walls around us leaked black water, and the feeling of damp crawled inside my throat. Hay bales sat in sad piles as makeshift beds; bruises bloomed on Jameson’s shoulders from nights of sleeping on the hard floor.
The shape, Rafael I supposed, shifted beneath the blanket only to still again.
“Joy,” Jameson sighed. “Is it really you?” I nodded franticly.
“It’s me,” I laughed at the absurd joke my life had become. “I am here, almost.” I marveled at the confidence behind my own words. “I projected myself to you.” A small smile tucked itself in the corner of my mouth.
Jameson stared at me, his eyes wide and unblinking.
“How do I get to you?” I reached a hand out, only for it to fall through his shoulder again. Jameson continued staring, unmoving.
“Am I dreaming?” His whispering voice bounced around the room. My eyes softened as I fixed my gaze upon him.
“It’s me, sweet boy.” Tears blurred my vision and realization dawned on me. I had done it. I had found my brother and I was going to bring him home.
Relief, sweeter than honey-glazed apples, settled into my skin. A life without my beautiful friend was a life not worth living. And now he would return, no doubt with extreme dramatics. A smile, deep and bright, spread across his face and if I had any skills with a paint brush, I would have painted the sight. It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“How?” he whispered, glancing behind my head for listening ears.
“I couldn’t possible explain it all at once.” I could not seem to form any other words. And somehow Jameson seemed to understand.
“I’m coming to get you, brother,” I vowed. “And we will return home to our family.” His eyes were lined with silver as he nodded and begun reciting the maze that was the prison. It would not be easy to get in and it would be even harder to get out. There was a very real chance that we would not make it out at all.
Once he stopped speaking, I felt a tug on my arm, but turning, I found nothing there.
Another tugged pulled at me and I almost toppled over.
“I think I need to get back to my body.”
“One more thing,” Jameson started just as I began to close my eyes again. “Rafael comes with us, I won’t leave him here.”
His loyalty made my heart squeeze.
“Do you trust him?” I eyed the sleeping heap.
“With my life.”
I nodded.
And then I was back in the tall, twisty trees, Florence and the sisters on my right and the ocean behind me.
“Wow,” I whispered, reaching out a hand to get my balance. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced.” The words toppled from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Yeah, you can say that again.” Erin held out a hand for me to grab.
Once the world stopped spinning and the ground stopped whirling, I stood up straight, taking a slug from Jodie’s water canteen.
“How does he look?” Florence almost whispered from behind the sisters, guilt fresh in her eyes.
“He’s alive. Half-starved and bruised, but alive.” I smiled and tears sprung from my eyes.
He was alive. He was alive. He was alive.
I chanted the words in my mind over and over until my tears dried.
The ocean slapped against the shore as though it was agreeing. The ocean loved Jameson and I; it sounded strange, and I had never said it out loud, but I knew it was true.
As water returned to water, I knew we would soon return home.
A secret promise shared between two old friends.
“Jameson is adamant that the prison is easy to navigate. He was blindfolded when he was brought in, but he overheard the guards stating that there is only one way in and one way out, baring a jump from a sixth story window. He took one left, then a right, went down forty steps and turned right again. He was pushed into a cell, and he’s been there ever since. Surviving on questionable water and even more questionable bread.” I looked over at the women, each of them forming a plan in their minds.
I looked up at the mammoth fortress before me, its walls black and thick, with the occasional glass platform sticking out harshly. Vines snaked up the walls, its thorns glinting in the sun.
“They remind of a story mother told us once,” Jodie said softly, staring softly at the vines. “About a girl who pricked her finger on a thorn and fell asleep for many years.” She looked over at us, waiting for the rest of the story.
“A princess travelled across the continents, climbed the walls, kissed her and the girl woke up. They married and lived happily ever after.” She smiled, looking once again at the vines.
“I’ve never heard that one before,” I said, reaching into my pocket to run my fingers over the shell hidden there. A little piece of home.