CHAPTER 23: The Patience of a Spider
Time stops for no one. That much is true in the real world. Where James exists right now, time moves much slower. People and objects seem static when pressed against the backdrop of never ending space. The sky above is endless, as is the earth beneath his feet. With so much time and space, one is afforded time to reflect. So here James is, reflecting. He thinks about the past. He thinks about what could have been. He thinks about what should have been. Everyone does. It is only natural to have regrets.
If he lived a thousand times, he would choose to make the same mistakes. James’ errors were numerous, but entirely purposeful in nature. Our survival as human beings is a given. Modern medicine has enabled that in spades. Living however, is a whole different issue. Eating and drinking and breathing is surviving and nothing more. This could be embossed upon every door-to-door Latter Day salesman’s pamphlet. It is the key to an unabated joyful existence.
Here in his dreams, James has learned something much deeper. Life is sustainable if you care for something which cares for you in return. This was James’ greatest downfall. He made the mistake of being alone. Not through necessity, but choice. He made the mistake of ignoring the voices of the people who tried to help him. Instead, he listened to the voices in his head. He forgot the true sensation of pain. Instead, he chose to feel numb. The detachment was far more comforting. Most importantly, he denied himself a place in the real world. His version of reality was better, so he destroyed everything and created something new. It was just easier that way.
All this time. So much time. Nothing but time in this place. Time to remember everything. As his memories return, so too do the nightmares. It is a welcome relief for James. He takes comfort knowing there is more to fear than shadows. When James was a child he always dreamt of spiders. Sometimes he would find himself stuck in a giant web. Sometimes he was in the shower, and instead of water pouring from the tap, thousands of tiny huntsmen would flood over him. Sometimes he’d half wake in the first light of the morning.
The ceiling fan would noisily grind in steady circles above him. Suddenly, each blade would flick all manner of eight-legged freaks on top of him. Paralysed between rest and lucid, he could only brace his body as they piled up. The spiders crawled over his eyelids, into his mouth and up his nose. Such was the sheer terror of the dreams; he would begin to cry. The first drops soon made way for the spiders as they squeezed through is tear ducts, sliding down his chest and making their way back inside the closest orifice.
He has never known how to feel about spiders. He is infatuated by them, yet he finds them terrifying. Watching a spider spin a web is a truly majestic sight. It is one of the most amazing things the world has to offer. One can take many lessons from a spider. They are nature’s true artists. Masters of patience. Most people do not take the time to notice. There used to be a black widow in the attic of James’ house. Even as a child he knew he should have told his mum and dad to come and kill it. But if he watched it from afar, he knew the spider was harmless. He wondered if the spider consciously planned what it was doing. Or was it just acting on pure instinct? Did it ever take the time to appreciate the intricacies of its artwork? James would watch it for hours. He had more patience than the spider itself.
If your mind were a spider, your thoughts would be a web. Each silky atom would link to another. From the spindle would come your thoughts, dreams and desires. The problem most have is that their web is split in two. They need to be either conscious or subconscious. In the case of James Galinski there is no difference. For most, the web is ruined when they wake. This deep connection is lost in consciousness. You may know you had a dream, but you cannot accurately recall the constructs within the dream. In this circumstance, the meaning escapes like a fortunate moth. James’ web is never broken. In sleep and daylight hours, he lets the spider finish its work. A crueller child would destroy it.
Up in the sky where he used to hear the prayers, he can see the progress of the ones he left behind. Progress has been slow, and immensely painful to watch. But it has been good for him. Everyone seems genuinely sad that James is gone. This has naturally provided him with quite a healthy ego boost. He can see now why people fake their own death. He wonders what it would be like to do the same. He imagines the morbid excitement from attending one’s own funeral. James would wait until there were sufficient tears shed. He would then leap out from behind the bushes. He would hug his grief-stricken friends and family, give them a reassuring smile and say thanks for being there. Then he would track down and verbally abuse every former acquaintance who did not bother coming. All this James would do, just to know he left an impression on the earth.
These thoughts are not entirely accurate. They are the product of excess time while James decides whether he wants to persist with this journey, or take his chances back in the real world. The more time he takes to think, the more he falls back into old habits. With all that aside, James has come to some stark realisations by spending his time with Von. Above all else, he knows that death is now irrelevant. He and his star-crossed lover move in circles as they watch the sun rise and fall. Every time the sky turns dark, they are a little closer to the end. Either he wakes up, or he goes on dreaming blissfully. In both options, it is hard to do anything about Dale. It is only a matter of time before he does something stupid. Some people are just born broken.
James has been spending more and more time in the clouds. The view has gotten much clearer with the absence of the Shadow. He has been longing for the real world, but looking at it through the glass reminds him that he is still a spectator, a passenger. There is something about the distance and isolation of this place that makes home more appealing. He wants to go back, but he does not want to leave Von behind. She deserves more than abandonment.
James’ greatest hang up with life is that it’s all too just and even. When one finally gets their shit together, everyone else falls to pieces. Is that not the way the universe works? If he returns to the real world, will the storm follow him? He has walked almost every square inch of Navoeth. He has watched every other person besides himself and Von fade away. It’s as though they grew tired of James’ meanderings, and decided to wake up. All that remains is a boy and a girl. James looks at her and he sees so much humility. All the things about her that used to seem so sophisticated, now seem so simple. A friendly smile, the way she bites down on her lip, the scars on her cheek. They do not stand out any more. They are just elemental things. Her body the sky. Her features the clouds. She is nature; ever-changing, cruel and beautiful. She is the world at its most vulnerable and destructive moment. This is not to say that James is special. He is still far from it. In fact, he has become more ordinary since discovering everything about himself. His mother died, he fears spiders, and his childhood is surprisingly full of happy memories.
The worst fate for mankind is to self-diagnose greatness. It is up to others for decide how great our actions measure up. Von tells me James is great, and so did Dr Shaw. But he is yet to achieve anything of greatness. He has barely kept the Shadow at bay long enough to gather the strength to fight it again. And he still has a self-medicating best friend sitting in his pyjamas, listening to sugar sweetened suicidal anthems. What to do about Dale? Maybe James should pray for him. For someone like Dale though, the very thought seems unconscionable.
So much time for James. Nothing but time to wonder. Why do people do what they do? Why do they believe the things they do? Through all his short life, James has believed in many things. God was never one of them. Not the Designer God so popularly embraced by many. Not an all-encompassing god. Not a righteous god. Not a god in the form of body or spirit. But there is something divine at work each time he steps on virgin territory. He knows that things don’t just happen. People and objects cannot float around in space with the hope of one day making contact. This is the one fundamental difference between Dale and James. Dale does not see the meaning in anything. He does not believe in anythin
g. He is at heart, a true non-believer. But at least he has conviction. James on the other hand has a wishy-washy understanding of spirituality. It seems so antagonistic to identify oneself as Atheist. Calling yourself an Agnostic is even worse. It is one simply casting a blurry gaze over both sides of the fence.
Here is what James has discovered so far. There is a scientific, almost poetic flow of energy within everything and everyone. Every now and then we are reminded of this. We catch glimpses of our infinite potential when we dream. The problem is, we forget our dreams. For some reason, someone decided James would catch more than a glimpse. He would get to live and witness his god-like creations on a daily basis. Maybe it’s because he finally chose to believe. Maybe he needed to change his destructive nature. For whatever reason he was chosen, he is still to complete his journey. One crucial element is missing from his story. He believes his dreams are real, but no one else does.
James has witnessed many brilliant things, but he is only now discovering his past. One day he hopes to wake up. He hopes he never has to venture back to Navoeth. It is not because he does not love it here. He loves this world almost as much as the girl who has come to define it. But if he survives his accident, it will be because he destroyed Navoeth. It will be because he created a new life. A life in the real world. He has much more work to do before any of that happens. But for now, he enjoys the view from the clouds. All this time. Too much to even appreciate. Time is never ending when nothing goes wrong.
CHAPTER 24: Cliff Diving
Some people believe that when someone dies, their energy lives on. One’s soul is stored in a vessel, and at a certain point in time the vessel expires. The soul is then released, and is soon claimed by another. For Christine Galinski, her time was simply up. James once said he would never tell anyone what happened to her. The truth is he does not know. He knows she died. He knows it was an accident. As for the details, it simply remains a mystery.
Lately he has thought of her a lot. The things he liked about her. The things he didn’t. at least, it’s a start. She used to do a lot for James; things that a mother doesn’t particularly enjoy but does so for the love of her child. These things included driving James around the whole state playing basketball. This while he was in middle school. She sat through an acoustic set of Commit This to Memory out the front of the local bowling alley. James was 13 and minors needed to be accompanied by an adult. When he was 15 he took guitar lessons after school. She bought him a $500 Martin & Co. James was a terrible guitarist, but she believed in him. She told him that even if he sounded awful, he ought to look good doing it. She also assured him that his terrible emo lyrics were good. She did all that for her son. But all that he fixated on were the annoying shows she would watch. He hated them all. He hated the music she listened to. He hated the chores she made him do. He hated the way she tidied his room without asking.
No kid fully appreciates what their parents do for them. It is not until they have a little monster of their own running around that they realise just how hard it is to raise a child. The problem James has is he will never get that chance. He will never get to tell his mum how much he appreciated her. All he has is an eternity of sleep to ponder what he should have done differently.
“What was she like?” Von asks James.
“I can’t remember. Honestly.”
“Maybe it would help if I kissed you again.”
She flashes her toothy smile and winks at him.
“Maybe it would.”
They stand on a rigid mountain top and she slowly shuffles over the grassy ground. Each step and several flowers sprout beneath her. The ground literally blossoms as she walks upon it. Even her actions seem corny at this point.
“Seriously James, maybe I can go back with you. We could find her together. I mean, you saw Nessa and I didn’t even tell you about her.”
“I still think it’s weird you call your mum by her first name.”
“I think it’s annoying you keep changing the subject.”
“I’m not changing the subject. There’s just nothing to tell. You can see my thoughts. There are no memories in there.”
“I don’t believe that. The shadow is blocking it. But look at those lakes in the distance. Look at that waterfall spilling into them. Before we went back to your class, and before you said those things to me, it was completely shrouded. Everything is still there. It’s just a little blurry. When the clouds and the smoke clear, this place will be beautiful again. Just the way you intended.”
“That or I’ll see the damage I’ve done more clearly.”
“Either way, you need to face it, not turn your back on it.”
“I get what you’re saying, but I just can’t. I don’t know how to.”
“You just need a push is all, James.”
She looks over the edge of the cliff.
“See that pool of water down there? If we launch off hard enough, I bet we can reach it. Grab my hand.”
“You bet?” he quizzes.
James looks over, thinking of a way to protest, though she has already made the decision for him.
“Ah, what the hell. It can’t exactly get any worse. Can it?”
He holds her hand. Together they count down from three and leap head first from the mountain. The cold wind slaps against his face. He kicks his legs out, trying to push his body away from the wet cliff face behind them. It soon becomes obvious that something is wrong. The wind pushes them back towards the rocks, as the mist obscures their view. Still hand in hand, they begin to somersault.
Just as James starts to panic, his father prepares for his own leap of faith. Richard waits at the entrance to James’ room. Her back faced towards him, Dr Shaw is arranging sheets of paper and binders on the tray table. He leaps in just as James and Von did.
“Kick harder!” Von screams at James.
“I’m trying!” he screams in return.
The mouth of the canyon widens as its black teeth prepares to devour them. He can feel that it is his weight dragging them back towards the face of the cliff. To let her go is the only option. The mist clears. The cascade slows. Then the strangest thing happens as the clouds below him speak.
“Hello Richard, how are you?” they ask.
James knows the voice, even from the safety of another world. It is Dr Shaw. But why the mention of his dad? He feels the wind stop as the voices climb the cliff. He smiles at Von and let’s go of her hand. She falls, but he remains suspended in the air. She screams in anguish, but he knows she will be okay. She floats through the air and James guides her towards the water. Her progress slows and she hits the water with barely enough force to cause a ripple. She surfaces soon after, frightened, but unharmed. James turn his attention back to the clouds. They beckon him as two soft, bulbous pillows.
“Dr Shaw?” he asks.
Richard is about to take his seat when he hears James utter these two words. He springs forward and the excitement spills out of through his shaking legs. He moves close to James’ bed and nods repeatedly to Dr Shaw, granting her permission to speak back.
“James? You can hear me?”
“How did you get to Navoeth?” James asks.
“James, I’m in the hospital. I’m standing here with your father and I’m speaking to you while you lay in bed.”
“Oh, you look like two boob-shaped clouds.”
Richard looks at Dr Shaw, his face slapped red with shock. She returns a knowing smile and looks back at James.
“No James, my boobs are still attached to my body.”
Dr Shaw’s reply is delivered with textbook dryness. Richard cannot help but cheekily grin. Despite the peculiar interaction, he admires her consummate professionalism.
“Do you know what happened to you?”
“Dale hit me with his car,” James quickly responds. “But it wasn’t his fault,” he adds.
“Where are you right now James? Describe what you see.”
“I’m in Navoeth. It’s beautiful here, Dr Shaw.
You should see it. I just jumped off a cliff but now I’m stuck in the air.”
“Why did you jump off a cliff, James?”
“Von told me to.”
“Von?”
Dr Shaw shoots a confused look across the room at Richard. He shrugs his shoulders.
“That’s what I call her now,” James finally elaborates.
“Is she with you now?” Dr Shaw asks as she pulls out her notepad.
“No. She’s at the bottom.”
“Okay good. James, your dad wants to tell you something.”
Richard sits in a chair. He drags it forward, making a loud squeal as it drags across the marbled floor. Dr Shaw winces. Finally, he pulls it to within a few inches of James’ side. He leans forwards, letting his arms dangle over the bed’s steel frame. With his left hand, he reaches out and balls James’ icy palm into his. He begins to cry, unloading a steady stream of words to his unconscious son. None of the words are planned. None of them are rehearsed. They just come out, unconsciously arranging themselves with the minute possibility that they will convey the correct meaning or echo longer than the split second of time it took to deliver them.
James in the Real World Page 17