Asmireen
©2024 by Jonathan Scott
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Chapter 2 - Coping
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Frand, He's Last Story
6.21 The storm, it blow. The ground, it shake. The fire, it fly. Frand, he stand and he watch the end of all.
6.22 Papa Voice, He come and He talk to Frand.
6.23 "Frand, you be not afraid?" say Papa Voice.
6.24 "No Papa Voice, I be not afraid." say he.
6.25 "This be the end of all Frand. Why you be not afraid?" say Papa Voice.
6.26 "I know not. But, I be not afraid. I be calm. Papa Voice, You love Frand. So, Frand, I think I know I be okay even if all end." say he.
6.27 "You be right. Papa Voice love you, Papa Voice love you all. Papa Voice never promise you all no problems. Papa Voice never promise you all no death. Papa Voice only promise to show you all the best way." say Papa Voice.
6.28 "Papa Voice, thank You." say Frand. And then all end.
Jake couldn't remember that he had been crying. He couldn't remember much at all. His eyes were wet, but that was the only remaining evidence of his sorrow. He felt completely awake and completely aware of everything. His cure had been the explosion.
He had been sitting on a large stone feeling bad about his failure. Then, there was the explosion. Jake had never heard anything like it in his life. It had made him rise and begin to move straight towards town. It was as though the explosion had completely taken over his consciousness. The only thing that remained was a deep dread need of information.
As he approached the town, to his surprise, he saw dancing and heard laughter in the center of the town. He was still far off enough though that he knew he couldn't decipher the information that his senses were bringing to him dependably. So, he continued to approach. Dancing and laughter were just not things that one heard on a Sunday afternoon in William's Peace. All Jake could think about was that he did not yet understand. So, Jake continued to approach the town center, desperately looking for information. The closer he came though, the number of people that danced decreased. The closer he came, the more the laughter also decreased. Jake felt that he should hurry. He began to run.
Just then, there was a roar. From the town center, Jake saw a thing rise up off the ground and begin to fly towards him. Jake stood still, frozen in inquisitiveness. Rather than flee, Jake involuntarily stood still and studied his doom. Jake saw a devil.
Fat. Fatter than fat. It looked as though someone had taken a fat human being and then cut them at each and every joint to pour in oozy jelly until the skin was ready to burst only to sew the seams closed again to wait for the skin to naturally stretch so that the process could be eternally repeated. It was the type of fatness that only an eternity of joyless desperation could create. To some, eternal life is the greatest of gifts. To others, it is the cruelest of tortures. Wisdom alone determines which.
As the thing which came to kill Jake approached, Jake was amazed. Surprisingly though, Jake wasn't amazed at the sight of it; he studied it as calmly as one would study a flower. Rather though, he was amazed at his inability to flee. Jake had never been this close to death before. Had someone asked him so before today, he probably would have guessed that his first reaction would be to run. But Jake wasn't running. Jake was standing, eyes wide open, examining a devil.
Jake looked above the ball of fat to see two wings. Wings? They seemed big enough to support the weight of the creature. The creature seemed capable of flight because of them. But no matter what his senses told him, he simply could not believe that something so uniquely fat could fly. How could something so obese possess the strength needed to lift its own body off of the ground? Jake pondered this as his death approached.
His mind seemed to work at many times the speed he was normally used to. In the time it took the devil to approach 150 yards, Jake had had the time to study the horns on the devil's head, the batlike wings that kept the devil aloft, the grotesque snouted face that shouted threats and malice, as well as the claws and teeth that would probably rend Jake until Jake no longer looked human. Jake began to shake, but nonetheless stood his ground. Jake's mind was no longer connected to his body.
Then, the immensely fat behemoth began to speak and the world itself seemed to echo the vile reverberations of its voice.
"YOU STAND? DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT I AM, BOY? I AM YOUR END! I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU, BOY! I'M GOING TO CONSUME YOU!" spewed the devil.
The world itself seemed to pause for a brief instant. Jake could do nothing but examine every crack and crevice of the devil's snout and maw. And then, as if the world itself were slowly exploding because of the soon to be uttered words of this dread beast, the devil, in his full height of terror, bellowed out the words "I AM YOUR FINAL RESTING PLACE, BOY!"
Jake stood.
From the right, a rock came and slapped the side of the devil's two foot tall face. Jake's trance was broken, and just as Jake had been forced before to stand and study the devil, now he was forced to run. Jake heard the devil bellow and blow out new threats. There was a great flapping of wings and the immense pounding of horse's hooves. Jake was unaware that he had been saved by Hank. He was unaware that Hank had returned and that Hank was now possibly sacrificing his own life in order to save him.
Jake ran. He ran until he found a large densely packed group of trees. He entered them and sat down shaking. His fourteen year old body was tense and alert to the point of pain. He listened and watched like he had never done before. He heard everything. He saw everything. He heard the grass as it fluttered in the breeze. He saw the trunks of the trees bend and sway. He heard the hooves of Hank's horse continue to pound even though he was no longer visible. He especially heard the thing that he most hoped for but was the most afraid of, silence. He was afraid of the silence only because he could not figure out its intentions. Was there silence because the devil was gone, or because the devil was looking for him? Was there silence because he was safe, or was there silence because he was only moments away from death? Jake didn't know. So, Jake continued to sit, shake, see and listen.
Jake found himself there for a long time. His mind had once again regained control of his body, but only partially. His fears kept yanking the body of the boy back down to the ground every time his bravery allowed it to rise a little. Eventually, Jake stood up and the debate amongst Jake's emotions ceased. Jake began to walk back to town.
Everything was quiet. Jake hated his return to the village; every step of it. But, he walked. He forced himself to continue as though all was well, knowing that it wasn't. After he had heard the explosion, he had seen a devil rise up from the town center and attack him. He knew that something infinitely terrible had happened in William's Peace that day. Jake hated this walk to town.
At first it seemed as though someone had painted the town center black. It was so black that light itself seemed to die there. Then, as Jake focused harder, he was able to see the charred corpses lying on the ground within the black circle of soot and ash. Jake then realized that the dancing and laughter that he thought he had seen and heard were really the convulsions of burning bodies and the unnatural screams that emanate from those feeling infinite pain. Jake began to cry again.
The hardest thing about this was that they weren't just dead bodies. He knew each and every one of the dead. He could remember a name for each and every corpse. He could remember intimate details about their lives. He knew them.
He went from corpse to corpse, his despair increasing with each recognition. Then, he stopped looking when he found the blackened and torn body of Jolie. He turned and ran home. Jake had never felt true terror before and it was more than his teenage mind was capable of. Jake ran home to his room and laid down on his bed shaking.
"Jake!" cried a voice.
"Jake!" cried the voice again.
Jake awoke. It was morning. He rose from bed, scratched his head and began to walk out of his room. The house was clean as it always was. Everything seemed fine, so Jake began to think about breakfast. He walked to his cupboard looking for bread and jam. He almost spoke up as if to ask his mother for some help for something and then, he realized how quiet it was. Then, he realized that he was alone. Jake lived with two brothers, three sisters, and two parents. Their house was never quiet and Jake was never alone. But, now he was. Then he remembered why he was alone and why the house was quiet. He stopped thinking about breakfast, sat down on the floor and began to despair. His intense emotions from yesterday had fatigued him to the extent that when he had fallen on his bed the afternoon previous, he was able to forget everything and sleep all night long. His emotional fatigue had spared him a night of horror alone in a home within which he had never been alone before. And with this rest, he found himself once again in control of his world, although not happily.
Hank walked into the Tunnis home and found Jake on the floor.
"Jake. Are you ok?" asked Hank.
The last thing Jake remembered about Hank was the slap that he had given to his now charred and torn sister Jolie. Jake though was still too caught up in the horror of the previous day to care about something as trivial as a slap. Jake nodded that he was fine and silently remained on the floor.
"Have you seen anyone else?" asked Hank.
Jake shook his head.
"I think we're the only ones left Jake." said Hank with a look of grim disappointment.
Hank sat down on the floor across from Jake.
"I'm glad I had Gale with me. I was able to ride her away from that thing yesterday."
Gale was Hank's horse. It was then that Jake realized that Hank had saved him from the devil. Jake looked at Hank with tears in his eyes.
"Thank you. I thought I was going to die."
"You probably were. That thing must have been at least fifteen feet tall. I can't even begin to guess how much it weighed. I'm just glad that Gale is fast."
Jake looked seriously at Hank and paused.
"Hank, are you crazy?"
"What?"
"You slapped Jolie." stated Jake who was looking closely at Hank and noticed the bruises on his face that Shane and Homer had left.
Hank stood up angrily. Had this been yesterday, Jake would have felt fear. Jake now knew what real danger and real fear were, and comparatively, Hank merited nothing but a blank stare. For several moments, Hank stood prisoner to his foolish emotions. Then, he calmed down. Hank could see that Jake was not at all afraid of him and so Hank, having nothing else to do, sat back down.
"I'm sorry. I get mad sometimes."
"I'm glad my father and Shane beat you."
But then Jake added after a small pause, "Thank you for helping me yesterday."
Hank sat nervously for a moment and then he calmed. The slate was now clean between Jake and Hank.
Jake stood and began to make breakfast for himself.
"Are you hungry?"
Hank stood up and began to help Jake prepare breakfast.
"What do we do now?" asked Jake.
"I have no idea."
As they ate the bread, jam, and fruit, they thought. Neither had been in this type of situation before. There were so many responsibilities. Both of them were young and had no experience dealing with death. They had no experience running their own households. They had no idea how to inform outside law enforcement. They didn't even know how to cook their own breakfast.
There was also still the possibility that the devil could return. They had no idea why a devil would even bother coming to William's Peace in the first place. There was nothing here. They had nothing but a handful of farms and a schoolhouse. They did not know what to do. They continued to silently eat and think.
"We should probably start to bury people."
Hank began to think.
"Yeah, we should. I got Gale here. I'm going to go and check out the town before we go to make sure it's safe."
Jake nodded.
Hank had slapped Jolie. His guilt was immense. He was not crazy. He was just proud and very unwise. He had slapped a woman and then was justly beat by his best of friends and the father of the woman he loved. Now, his fiancee, his best of friends, and the father of both were dead. He had no way to apologize. The only means he had left to him to right his wrong was to protect Jake. So, he chose to do so. Hank took the rest of his breakfast, got up and walked outside. A moment later, there was the sound of Gale's hooves thumping down the road.
Jake got up and went to his father's room. He was alone now. He knew that there would be no one there to see to his safety and security anymore. So, he made the decision to take care of himself. He went to his father's dresser. Above it hung the family sword. He took it down and held it in his hands.
It was a beautiful long sword. It was not expensive, but it was well made. It had not had any use in years, but Homer had always taken the time to care for it. So, it was now ready for use. It was clean and sharp. Jake fastened the sheath around his waist and then began to look through his father's dresser again.
In the top right drawer, Jake found a leather pouch. Within it were the family savings. There were about sixty gold pieces and a smattering of other smaller denomination coins within. The bag was quite heavy. Jake knew that he might not be able to stay in William's Peace. So, he was getting ready to do what he was pretty sure he would have to do; move to Eastbrook and stay with his uncle Isaac. He knew he didn't want to be alone. He also knew that someone should hear about what had happened here. Eastbrook seemed like the only alternative.
Jake took the leather pouch and laid it on his father's bed. He then went back to his room to change his clothes. He would do a lot of digging this day, and it only seemed fitting to get out of his now sweaty and wrinkled Sunday best and into his work clothes.
Hank returned. His face was pale.
Jake came out to meet him.
"You ok, Hank?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Hank replied. Hank was lying.
Jake then realized, that Hank had just seen Jolie's body again. The job that they had to do today would be a difficult one. Talking about it would probably just make it worse. It would be a good day for silence.
Jake went to the barn, took out Gideon, and began to saddle her. Neither Hank nor Jake were in the mood for speaking. It would be a quiet and sad day for them. Jake finished saddling Gideon and both rode off to town.
Jake and Hank sat on their horses at the rim of the black circle in the town center and refused to move. They sat and looked at the bodies once again. Their eyes moved from face to face. All the memories they had had with these people were even now beginning to fade. As they would see a face, they would try and remember the common experiences they'd had with them, but often couldn't. The only images they could retrieve in their minds were the images they were currently seeing. They both knew that they would never forget this day. Hank got off of his horse, removed the shovel from Gale's saddle and began to dig. There would be a new graveyard in the town of William's Peace. It would be exactly where the town center used to be and Jolie would be its first occupant. Hank began to cry. Jake got down from his horse and began to work alongside of Hank. Jake began to cry as well. And so Jake and Hank began their long silent sad day.
Jake had managed to find a way to turn off most of his emotions. The responsibility that he had now was the worst that he would ever have in his life. Had he not found a way to turn them off, he would have been so crippled by them he wouldn't have been able to do anything. And, so he worked.
Jake had looked through all the bodies. He had found everyone in his family but Shane. Inside he hoped that Shane had somehow survived the blast. He considered that somehow Shane maybe had run after him to comfort him when he fled the church. In his mind, he pictured Shane still out there, perhaps in the woods, looking for him. Jake knew better though. Were Shane alive, he would be right there next to him helping bury the bodies. He would have been there last night in his home with him as well. Jake looked at the center of the blast to see the charred remnants of boots and belts that had belonged to people that were now no longer whole. Jake knew better than to hope. And so, he continued to dig.
During the day, each time Jake began to bury a member of his family, he forced himself to remember a happy time that he'd had with that person. And so, for each member, before he would push the shovel into the ground even once for them, he would stand still and wait until he had a memory of them in his mind. And while he dug, he dwelt on the memory, rather than on the task. Somehow, he hoped that, in doing so, he would be able to survive the day.
In Remembrance of Jolie Tunnis
It was raining and Jolie was cooking. Jake had been working outside in the barn cleaning. There was a bowl of just cooked scones on the table. Jake would come in, sit at the table and begin to eat. He would spend perhaps a half an hour sitting at the table speaking with Jolie about life and school before her friends would come over to invite her out to sit by the river. Jake would watch her walk away and wave goodbye.
In Remembrance of Homer Tunnis
It was a beautiful spring morning and Homer and Jake were sitting on the floor making a kite that they would later fly that afternoon. Jake was still very young. The glue would stick to his fingers. The paper would rip once and have to be replaced. But, the kite would fly for hours and hours later that day. Jake and Homer would return home. Homer would sit by Jake's bed and Jake would fall asleep watching his father read.
In Remembrance of Kira Tunnis
Kira was sitting on the floor crying about one of her toys that had broken. Jake, her big brother, would then come to her to find out about her troubles. She would explain and then he would pick up the toy and fumble with it for minutes and minutes until he would finally find a way to fix it. Kira then, would jump up, throw her arms around Jake, hug him, take the toy and happily run away.
In Remembrance of Jason Tunnis
Jake was sitting in a chair near the fire on a cold winter day. Someone would walk up to Jake and place something in his lap asking him to watch it for a while. It would be Jason. Jason was a new baby. Jake would sit and look at Jason for a long time. Jason would also sit and look up at Jake. They would study each other's faces and souls for perhaps an hour. It would be as if each were deciding whether or not to befriend one another. The discussion would end with smiles and friendly gibberish. In the end, someone would come back and take Jason away.
In Remembrance of Saja Tunnis
Jake was sitting outside of the schoolhouse. It was lunchtime. Jake was sitting on a stone opening his lunch. Inside, he would find homemade fried chicken, homemade biscuits with homemade strawberry preserves, and an apple picked that morning by his mother Saja from the family apple tree. With each bite, Jake knew how much his mother loved him. Lunch would last a half an hour. And it was as if, Jake had heard his mother tell him how much she loved him a thousand times. And in the end, Jake would simply close his lunch box, stand up and walk away.
In Remembrance of Hera Tunnis
It was a week ago on the Sunday afternoon just after services. Jake was sitting on the floor resting and reading. Hera would then toddle up to Jake from behind and attack him. Both of her little arms would try their best to wrap themselves around Jake's neck as she playfully tried to bite his back. Laughing, Jake would carefully turn around and pull Hera on to the floor and pin her down tickling her and dragging his hair across her face. Hera would scream and laugh at the top of her voice until someone would come by and tell them to stop. Hera would then sit on Jake's lap and force Jake to read to him, until she would finally get up and walk away.
In Remembrance of Shane Tunnis
Jake was walking home from school. Shane was driving the family wagon off to conduct some business for his father. Shane would invite Jake to climb aboard and then both would travel together. Shane was big. He was much bigger than Jake. But, nonetheless, they would talk together for hours that day as though they were the best of friends. Jake knew how some young men acted. And then he knew how his brother acted. And he spent the day in peaceful bliss in gratitude for his brother's choice to be a gentleman.
Hank and Jake continued on until the sun was down. They had buried over fifty people. The town center now was no longer completely black. It was specked with shallow graves and hastily made wooden tombstones. They hoped that later on others would come and replace their chalked boards with real stones. These people deserved far more respect and ceremony than what these two youths were capable of giving.
"I'm going home." said Jake.
"Yeah, me too."
"What are you going to do tomorrow Jake?"
"I think I'm going to go to Eastbrook. I have an uncle there, and, well, someone needs to hear about this." said Jake.
"Ok. I'm going to go too."
Jake gave Hank a serious look. He was considering whether or not to accept his offer. Jake then nodded his head with a tense brow.
Hank and Jake mounted their horses and rode home.
Jake approached the silent and dark Tunnis home. It was so odd to see it all dark and empty. It was almost as if the explosion had killed the home as well. Jake walked to the stream by his house and began to wash himself. He took off his clothes, stood naked in the middle of the cold stream and began to bathe. The water came up to about the middle of his shins. The coldness of the water hurt him. It wasn't until then that he realized how tired and sore he was. His mind was filled with thoughts. He sat down in the middle of the stream to think. He was alone now. He would be alone for the rest of his life, he thought. His thoughts were his new best friend. There was no Kira to bother him. There was no Shane to help him. There was no Saja to request things of him. There was no Homer to scold him. There were only his thoughts.
Jake walked home naked.
He entered the Tunnis home and began to look around. He realized that he could do anything. He realized that he was completely free. There was no one left to tell him what he could and couldn't do. There were no other children even to get in his way. He was free and the freedom felt like a razor slashing at his skin. Every time he thought about something that he wanted to do, he'd realize that there was no reason why he couldn't, and then he'd realize why and then the painful slash of loneliness would come.
Jake sat down. Doing anything else was too painful.