by Tim McEnroe
that somewhere, in some other world, he may be resting six feet underground in a navy-blue suit. When sleep finally came for him, daylight was near.
The dreams went on, and weeks quickly turned to months. Justin was actually beginning to find fascination in them instead of dread. He began to realize that with Rosie as his conduit, he could witness what the world would be like if his life ended with a jump on that cold, November day. It even brought him a queer sensation of happiness. He knew guilt should restrain him, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he loved to hear how his death pained the family, especially as they wallowed miserably through the holidays. Rosie’s dreams were fraught with images of crying and breakdowns and therapy sessions, and they all fed Justin’s high as if his family’s sadness validated the worth of his life.
But then as the snow melted, and the weather warmed with the coming of spring, changes blossomed in Rosie’s other life as well. “Mommy and daddy quit drinking!”, “Mommy promised me that we’ll spend more time together!” and “Daddy’s saving extra hard so we can go to the beach for vacation. I always wanted to go to the beach for a week!” were just some of the painfully sweet revelations brought up at the breakfast table. The dreams were beautiful and colorful and bright, a stark contrast to his and Rosie’s true existence.
The spectacular life of Rosie’s counterpart and her family was beginning to run Justin thin, and he knew that he wasn’t the only one taking it hard. He found himself paying more attention to Rosie’s eyes as she explained the dreams than he paid to the dreams themselves. While the dreams she described were happy, the story that her eyes told were full of despair and jealousy.
She began mentioning things, dark things, like how sadness greeted her as soon she opened her eyes every morning and how she’d fight to regain sleep just so she could have a few more minutes to bask in the life of her other self. It was becoming dreadfully obvious that a life without him in it was better for everyone, especially for Rosie. With each passing day, he watched her retreat further and further into the abyss of her mind, drifting hopelessly in limbo between this horrible life and a life that didn’t truly belong to her. It ripped at his heart to see her that way, but he didn’t know what he could do to stop its progression.
Rosie’s battles chipped away at Justin until they carved out an answer as clear and cold as ice. By the time he realized that he had to go back to Stinton’s Point, it was early July.
*
Justin opened his eyes and slowly stepped to the edge of edges. “This is it,” he said to the open air. The safety clicked off. He felt the familiar wind smack at his cheeks, mocking him for his fears. The trigger was fingered. He took a final, calming breath. The hammer went back.
Suddenly, Justin took a step back. Tears crowded his eyes, blurring the beauty of the world that sprawled alive and green at his feet, and a thought flickered to life in his mind: If Rosie was right about everything, he might jump only to end up back on the cliff where he started. His problems would be waiting patiently for him right where he left them. “There has to be another way,” he mouthed apologetically to the incessant wind.
He stood on the edge of the cliff for what seemed like forever. At first he felt alone and insignificant, like a meager candle trying to lighten an immense, dark room. After some time, his mind went to work crafting ideas of how he could fix his family. Before long, the fledgling ideas got fat with hope and eventually swarmed over him in a rain of delight. Justin brought in another deep breath and let it dance merrily in his lungs. It mingled with his grand revelations. This was surely the catalyst he needed to turn it all around.
The sound of crunching gravel brought his mind back, and he turned to face the noise. Two little feet strapped in blue, speckled jellies were standing close behind him. He followed them up to their owner.
“Rosie?”
She looked pale and grim and didn’t seem to hear him. She just stared at him with cold, desperate eyes, and it made him shudder despite the steamy, summer heat.
“What are you doing here?”
Still nothing. He was about to ask again, when he caught sight of a tear sliding down her cheek. It was hard to notice at first with the fitful wind blowing her thick, curly hair across her face. It suddenly dawned on him that she figured out what he came here to do.
“It’s okay,” he said with a forced smile. “Really, I’m not going to jump. I promise. I...I had a change of heart.
Again, no response.
“Are you okay? Is everyone alright at home?”
At last she moved, but only to beckon him to look behind him, towards the precipice.
Justin turned quickly and was confused to see nothing out of the ordinary. All of a sudden he felt her little hands on his waist. With a firm push, they sent him plunging off the edge to the rocky world below.