by Jaclyn Lewis
Today, Pax and I are in Pavana checking on supplies for the troops there and to see how the other snowflakes are training. While he lingers at the specter docks, I’m drawn the other way.
When I see the orchards, I can’t help remembering the night I spent among the peaches—the night that gave confirmation to so many doubts.
I look up at the sun and the clouds in the sky and as I lean up against the trunk of one of the trees I fall under the pressure of my worries. I am happier than I’ve ever been—I’m in love with a wonderful man, able to help and lead my friends around me. I know the truth of who and what I am and there’s a freedom in that. But I also feel empty and hollow inside and I fear that nothing will ever fill the gap.
This time I don’t envision the trapped princess in the dusty castle as myself. She’s been set free by a gallant love. Instead the princess has long red and raven locks and is crying out to me to rescue her, but I can’t.
I feel helpless and with each week that passes she hates me more and more until her tears fill the bottle that is broken at my feet. They burn my eyes to watch them flow out, knowing that I’m enjoying bits of happiness while she is tortured somewhere else. How will I ever forgive myself? I know it wasn’t my fault and there was nothing that could be done, but will she see it that way? Or will she only remember the horrors of being at the mercy of Camp.
I’m weeping tears that could fill one of our diamond buckets and I put my face in my hands and my elbows on my knees.
Maybe if I curl into the tightest shape possible I’ll fade away. Maybe if I close my eyes long enough I won’t see the anxiety in my own heart. Because we have no idea where Camp is hiding, I’m not able to fight, but I’m not able to move on with my life either. How long will our societies be held in this awful state of waiting? How long will these orchards stand?
Will the human race become extinct or will I tell my children stories of Earth and how I was there the day its glory faded? CGC was right about one thing—I’m replaceable and right now I’d rather be replaced because I’m weary.
Allowing myself to free these thoughts and package them into tangible salt water actually makes me feel better. I’m just starting to compose myself when I feel a hand softly on my shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know its Pax.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Is everything ok?” He questions softly.
“No. I really am happy most days—so happy that I feel guilty for not saving Ember by now. She’s missing this little nugget of peace we get to share. I just want it all to end. How long can we live like this? Every day not knowing if we’ll be obliterated the next day? Not knowing if I’m going to lose you or not? Not knowing what happened to Ember?” At the sound of her name leaving my lips I start to cry again.
After a few moments I compose myself enough to add, “I just want it to be over. I want to unleash my anger on CGC and then I want to start my life with you and move on in the light.”
I’m crying again. He holds me and strokes my hair for a long time before he says anything. Then he pushes me away just enough to look into my eyes.
“We have started our life, Genna. It might not be the life we wanted or envisioned for ourselves, but it’s the life we’ve been given. We’ll just take each day as it comes. It might not seem fair, but it is that simple. As much as I hate Doctor Camp right now, do you realize that if it weren’t for him you wouldn’t even be alive? Sometimes the evil that exists gives birth to something good. I look at you and I’m so happy for the good parts. I’m happy because no matter what tomorrow holds, right now I’m holding you, and you’re not frozen anymore.”
He wipes away my tears with his hand and kisses me as he pulls me up. We walk through the orchard for a while holding hands as the sapphire sun sets on the sleeping trees.
He’s right. There’s no way to know what the rest of our tomorrows look like, but today I have a love, a family, and a home. I can think and move and breathe and rejoice today. And the memories I create belong to no one but myself.
A reckoning is tumbling down the mountainside. I will find her. I will have a hand in deciding the future of our planets and the human race. Tomorrow I may live or I may die, but today I am not frozen.
The End
A note from the Author
I remember bouncing in the back of our old gray conversion van when I was eight years old and writing a story about a bear that lived in the forest. Accompanied with scribbled drawings, his story reflected what I thought about the world—innocent and colorful.
As I grew older, my perception of the world changed and so did my dreams—one minute I wanted to be an astronaut. The next a cowgirl, a veterinarian, and the owner of an airline that served extra ice cream sundaes to their customers.
When I did grow up, I worked in everything from fast food to the medical field to wedding planning. I have always loved writing, and I’ve soaked up stories that broaden my horizons because I like to question the world around me—to observe it and wonder what makes it all tick. Why do people think the way do anyway?
I’m a follower of Jesus Christ and long to see truth resound in the world around us. My hope is that in some small way, this futile work of fiction will serve to not only entertain you for a bit, but help you question good and evil. To wonder at the marvel of life in all its forms and stages, to find hope in the Creator of life itself, and solace in the Rescuer.
Most of my days are filled with the busyness of being a wife to my husband Darren, and mom to my daughter Josie. But some days--I catch a glimpse into the world that no one else sees…a sliver of magical story that must be told. So on those days, I curl up with an extra cup of coffee and pour out my soul on paper.
*Jacky Lewis
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[1] An old English folk rhyme included in James Orchard Halliwel’s book, The Nursery Rhymes of England
[2] A reference to the first book of The Space Trilogy by C.S. Lewis. 1.) Out of the Silent Planet 2.) Perelandra 3.) That Hideous Strength.
[3] From A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. This quotation can be found in Book 3, Chapter 15: The Footsteps Die Out Forever