Death Of A Blue Jay

By Nicholas D'Souza

In D'Souza's "Death of a Blue Jay", Jeremy Martin goes through a supernatural experience of ups and downs and understands that there is value even when we fall because there will be new lessons gained for future use of wisdom.

In the fictional world of ROB-RAH-RATS, Jeremy is forced to face his unconscious mind, where his deep

• Language: English
• Publisher: Manuscripts LLC
• Release date: Mar 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889267812

Book preview

Death of a Blue Jay

The Path to Bring the Darkness to the Light

Nicholas D’Souza

Copyright © 2023 Nicholas D’Souza

All rights reserved.

Death of a Blue Jay

The Path to Bring the Darkness to the Light

ISBN

979-8-88926-780-5 Paperback

979-8-88926-781-2 Ebook

To God.

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Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

The Precious Gift

Chapter 2

The Funeral

Chapter 3

The Basement

Chapter 4

Star Harbor

Chapter 5

The Binoculars

Chapter 6

The Portuguese Men of War

Chapter 7

Machiko

Chapter 8

The Lonely Man

Chapter 9

The Amber Car

Chapter 10

The Whisper

Chapter 11

The Blue

Chapter 12

The Chicken

Chapter 13

Mr. Oluttony

Chapter 14

Tale of The French Orphan

Chapter 15

Prime

Chapter 16

The Mysterious Man in Yellow

Chapter 17

Otto’s Game

Chapter 18

The Eye

Chapter 19

Death of a Blue Jay

Chapter 20

The Leap of Faith

Chapter 21

The Helmet of Hope

Chapter 22

Nostalgic War

Chapter 23

The Dolphin

Chapter 24

The Black Glove’s Secret

Chapter 25

The Line of Art

Chapter 26

Moonlight Trail

Chapter 27

The Glue

Chapter 28

The Letter

Chapter 29

Star Bridge

Chapter 30

Pure Vision

Chapter 31

The Two Alive Blue Jays

Chapter 32

The Plug

Chapter 33

The Drawing

Acknowledgments

Glossary

All honest aphorisms matter,

especially the cliché ones.

—Nicholas D’Souza

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Author’s Note

The main source of this novel’s inspiration took place in early 2021 during a trip a friend and I took to Bar Harbor, Maine. We looked at this trip as simply an opportunity to rewind and reflect on our respective lives, especially letting go of all concerns and being able to recharge. One particular night of that fateful weeklong trip is one I will remember for the rest of my life.

We hiked several miles in Acadia National Park and made it near the Jordan Pond House. We realized sunset would be soon, and we were able to make up some ground before the evening got dark. The moonlight was our only reliable source of light, and our phones lit only sporadically due to low battery.

It was one week after a snowstorm, so there were patches of icy obstacles along the way, but gratefully, we had stability for the most part. During the five-mile walk toward my car, I had some fear to a certain extent. Through the presence of God and my friend next to me, I could see three lights that made the path clear: the light in God, in my friend, and in myself. I knew, as we kept going, that this was a night worth reflecting for a lifetime because of the symbolism I reflected on nearly every step of the way.

Before we embarked on this dark journey back to the car, a stranger’s car had passed by on the street near the Jordan Pond House. It was possible for me to wave my arms to get their attention to help us ride back, but it just did not seem right. It being wintertime, we did not run into that many people in the harbor. In a way, I felt this night would be the rewind and recharge highlight of the entire trip.

Even though it was completely dark, there was no need to fear of any wild animals as that was very unlikely in a national park, especially during that time of year. However, I could not assume there would not be a threat of some sort in the darkness as we were completely vulnerable to anything. The presence of my friend was crucial as my friend knew where I parked my car. Thankfully, the map application on our smartphones was functioning without service.

As I saw a glimpse of my car on the final stretch of the hike, a wave of relief settled in my heart. We made it safely. As we finally approached the car, I will never forget its white blizzard pearl shine, which permeated the darkness. It brought about such joy.

I had so much to reflect on in the months to come. At times, I thought of turning the experience into a novel, but how could I write a novel with enough content over a near hour-long hike in barely visible darkness? All we did was walk forward. Yet that is what life is about—moving forward while learning from the past.

I truly believe the majority of the world is lost regarding spiritual guidance and ignorant of the true joy and life’s purpose to earn the status of full communion with God in the afterlife. Instead, it seems we live in an instant gratification world where the empty promises of the desires of the flesh take over the good fight of moving according to the spirit.

Even though this novel has some Catholic elements, the story is eclectic to a young-adult audience searching for a deeper meaning in life amid an inner mysterious emptiness. I am not necessarily trying to evangelize the reader toward a certain faith but am emphasizing the importance of the examination of conscience and how we need to be cognizant of the triggers of our lives. Something, perhaps traumatic, could be in our past that makes us feel stagnant and is holding us back from a true joy and peace in what our life’s work is for us.

I feel positioned to write this book because I believe I have created an inner peace, to a good extent, and spiritual progress in my personal life by past reflection and proper reconciliation to change my life for the better. The process, for me, has felt very lonely most of the time and may continue to feel so here and there for the rest of my life, regardless if I am surrounded by loved ones or not. I would think at times the leap of faith for growth is not worth it, but I realized if I took the light comfortable path like most people do, I would ultimately live a mediocre and selfish life, contributing nothing to humanity.

Most recently, especially after the Bar Harbor hike experience, I decided to take that raw and real journey down the dark path of my life to discover God’s life purpose for me. During the special times of the past two years when the world gathered around loved ones and put their personal obstacles at bay, I would have to struggle alone while, unfortunately, contemplating the better special occasion days in the past.

The couple of times I would get emotional was heartbreaking, but it has fueled me to put more effort in my life’s passion—writing. I didn’t have to choose the lonely path, but I knew it was worth the temporary struggle to make a great contribution to God and humanity in the long term. Some choose the lonely path for reconciliation and growth while others, unfortunately, are forced into the same situation under dire circumstances.

I encapsulate the message of this book by sharing how the main character, Jeremy, can reveal the mysterious reason why he feels so empty based on his past traumatic experiences through the practice of virtue.

This novel is for those who are at a crossroads in life and are looking to digest what from their past has made a hole in their spirit. But even if all feels well in one’s life, I believe the story can resonate with someone who is willing to train their brain to react properly to any future tragic event that may come their way.

The reader will benefit from Jeremy’s journey by knowing that their past flaws do not make them alone on their journey and that through faith and hope, we can ultimately fill our hearts with joy to give charity into the world.

After reading this book, I hope the reader will have a different perspective on the outside world, knowing it is not necessarily what is external but what is internal, which makes the external glow better.

My hope for this reader is that all the symbolism and plot will influence their own life so they can possess such great self-awareness as to find the keys and birds’ aphorisms, as detailed in the story, to guide their joy throughout life with themselves and others!

From a holistic standpoint, the purpose of that nearly hour-long dark trail journey for me was to learn and observe the dark path, as there are many caveats, fears, hope, and clues in the spiritual battle of life. We must go to the unconscious mind to finally wake up to consciousness and embrace the light for what it is.

Disclaimers: I chose the names based on how fitting their alphabetical structure is to the plot or the root meaning of the name.

The series of events that take place in this book were all made up according to my imagination, including most of the setting names. No narrative in the plot is directly or indirectly correlated to my or anyone else’s personal life. The dark trip my friend and I took through Acadia National Park that one night was the one and only influence for the taking the dark path theme of this novel. Neither of us was unconscious for any length of time.

I hope you enjoy the read and God bless!

Very Sincerely,

Nicholas D’Souza

---

Chapter 1

The Precious Gift

Finally! Emme Martin exclaimed. The government lifted the COVID-19 restrictions, and I am back to what I love best. Eight p.m. cannot come any slower!

So you are back to Riverland Plaza, huh? Jeremy Martin replied as he closed the front door behind him and placed down the week’s groceries.

Certainly so, love… not too far from Our Lady Star of the Sea. What is in that shipping container thing? Emme asked, looking into his eyes with a similar pair of brown eyes and long eyelashes.

Lobst— Jeremy abruptly replied before a sudden scurry of footsteps cascading down the staircase interrupted him.

Mommy! Daddy! Jeremy heard as he watched his son jump to the kitchen floor.

What is it, Leon? Emme asked as she turned around to face him.

Jeremy could barely see his son as his wife, just under his six-foot-tall height, was in the way. Her curly brown hair from behind blocked the grandfather clock’s time far against the kitchen side wall. It was certainly not near the top of the hour as it usually had a distinct metronome chime and hourglass rinsing effect within five minutes of the top of each hour.

Guess what, Mommy? Leon Martin asked.

What, sweetheart? Emme replied as she stepped to the side, revealing his son’s energic state in his outer-space-themed pajamas.

I-I jus’ realized… Does this mean you will not be here for my birthday eve reading celebration? Leon replied with a droop in a similar pair of brown eyes.

Jeremy saw Emme swiftly turn to him, expressing a chuckling smile and blush. He stared at his wife with wide eyes and lowered his chin slightly downward, concealing a laugh to indicate she should answer.

She slowly twisted back to Leon and bent her knees to match her son’s eye level. Friday, July 9, 2021, has been the day Mommy has waited for to reconnect with her boss and start what she loves to do with her future clients—therapy. The therapy I do means I help patients who can’t get over past bad events in their lives. Her eyes began to twinkle. And after 9 p.m. I will be on my way home to begin bedtime storytelling with you and Daddy.

But my bedtime is just after 9 p.m., Mommy? Plus, I feel tired from our morning hike today in Port… lond, Leon replied.

Well, Emme began as she looked at Jeremy and back at Leon, smiling, I took off from my favorite thing to do since you were born to help build some star power in you. She flicked one of the stars on Leon’s pajamas.

Is that why Daddy is the best writer in Maine? Leon asked, curiously looking back and forth at his parents.

Jeremy felt a lukewarm feeling scroll down his spine at his son’s words and became numb to the mix of giggling and concerns between his wife and son. He turned to his left at the living room’s single standing wooden drawer table with a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary standing on its top and a tapestry of Jesus Christ standing on seaside rocks and gazing at the sky full of doves against the wall behind the table.

Jeremy’s statewide best-seller poetry book Palindromes was the best of the dozen books he had published. It was the fifth he published just two years ago at age twenty-five but the very first series of poems he started as a five-year-old kid, unaware of the content’s future vision for the ages.

He then switched his sight over to the comfortable leather couch. He recollected how Emme barely had a year of exposure to therapy in her internship down in North Carolina. Her profound sacrifice to relieve his sole care for Leon at home made him bounce from not only the best in Bronze River County but in all of Maine the last couple of years.

Jeremy heard an increase in giggling as he looked at the blank flat-screen TV against the side wall. It fascinated him how the success of Palindromes gave Emme so much attention due to her marital status to him, especially in the therapy world.

Her voice resurfaced from his dream state. You know what, sweetheart? I will postpone your bedtime to nine thirty. After all, it will be your…

I want to wait until midnight, but I’m tired too, ha-ha! Leon said as he jumped up and down in excitement.

Remind me how old you will be? Emme asked.

Seven! Leon replied. I-I think I can get up myself. I am excited to turn seven. My friends from first grade, who turned seven, told me it is a lucky age!

Jeremy felt a sudden shock inside as that of a provocative TV static noise. Seven… That was the number of years he’d been married to Emme, and just lately, despite all the statewide literary success he’d had, an obscure empty pit lay within him… never having vanished since his senior year high school graduation at age seventeen, just barely over a decade ago. Seventeen. Twenty-seven.

Emme’s face leaned closer to her son’s. Plenty more lucky ages are yet to come. She made her way over to give a farewell kiss on Leon’s forehead.

It felt like a decade’s worth of time erased, as Jeremy felt an odd shift at their sight. Emme usually gave peck or cheek kisses to Leon, he thought.

Age of reason, Emme immediately said to her son as she straightened back to standing. The chandelier light from the kitchen reflected a parallel vertical pair of lines on Leon’s forehead, almost exposing a square-like frame in a way above the center of both his black eyebrows.

Why are you acting like you are going away for a long time? Leon asked.

Jeremy removed his sneakers and walked closer to Emme and Leon. Time does not matter, Leon. Each second and every day is a gift we must appreciate, and loved ones must acknowledge this preciousness by showing their own act of love, Jeremy said as if he was giving a presidential address without digesting what he was even saying.

Was it you or Mommy who told me last week in church that Father Chris mentioned the spirit is here whether the person is here or not? Leon said as he sat down on the brown staircase steps.

Oh, right, Jeremy said as it caught him off guard.

Emme gave a secretive look at Jeremy of subtle suspicion yet calmness. Okay, I am off, boys. The center is fifteen minutes away, so I should be back not too long after nine for the special birthday boy. She beamed at Leon and touched the top of his buzz-cut head.

Jeremy peck kissed Emme on her way out, and she paused as she reached the door. Love, make sure the lobster goes in the fridge. Emme opened the door. Make sure to open Leon’s windows if the birthday boy is going to take a nap. It feels great outside.

Oh, okay, Leon said.

I will help you with the square window above the headboard since they are a bit out of your reach, Jeremy said.

Leon suddenly got up an exclaimed, I miss those hikes we would do with Uncle Patrick and Auntie Serena in upstate New York!

Emme leaned against the brown wooden door and smiled. I’ll have to plan with Auntie Serena. I can’t promise you it will be by the end of summer, but eventually by surprise. She winked.

Oh, I love surpri— Leon said, before a susurration effect interrupted. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Ah! That’s my ringtone, Emme said as she raised her lit-up smartphone in the air. "For real, boys, see you in little over an hour. Oh, but wait. Is the Chary filled with enough gas, love?"

Yes, love, Jeremy said with a smile.

Adiós, boys! Emme said as her eyes glittered with joy, and Jeremy saw as she made her way to turn the engine of their white 2019 Riverland Chary on and drive out into the distance of Crisp Valleys Avenue.

"Daddy, can we start reading Pah-lun-romes? Maybe it can keep me awake until Mommy comes back! It is the best ever written!" his son exclaimed as he raised his arms in the air and fled up the fifteen-step brown staircase.

Jeremy chuckled as enthusiastically as he could and yelled, Yes, birthday boy!

But at that very moment, that empty pit feeling returned as he stared awkwardly at the brown rectangular dining table in front of him, now in a delusional state of silence as the echoes of his son’s footsteps died down when Leon entered his room.

It occurred to Jeremy that he never read his past writings, whether they got publicity or not. He was always a believer in moving forward. However, that empty pit feeling gave a resurrected anchor feeling on his ankles…something he felt had let go not too long after he married Emme.

His pretentious attitude struck him like a venomous snake at how foolish he was in reiterating to his son his work’s prestige, only to know he was too young to understand what that meant in its essence. It was funny for Jeremy to remember his own first-grade teacher would always emphasize the idea of humility at Saint Michael the Archangel Elementary school. And it happened to be so the teacher would always commend the kid sitting next to him in that class for his humility. Jason Oscar.

Suddenly, a flash of dozens of rats on the kitchen table came to Jeremy’s imagination, causing him to gasp out of his catatonic trance.

Daddy! Jeremy heard from upstairs.

Coming! he immediately replied.

Just after Jeremy made his way up the fifteen steps, he pushed the ajar door to see Leon playing with a yellow snake stuffed animal Jeremy had given him as one of his past birthday gifts. Puzzle boxes, Legos, and creative nature drawings posted on Leon’s walls gave the generic ambience of Leon’s room. To the right stood a series of dusty bookshelves with all-time great classic novels for Leon’s future literature courses, and above it was a poster of a white Riverland Chary.

See, Daddy, I keep you right here all the time, Leon said, pointing at the bottom shelf, at the edge of a blue Persian-style rug.

The book divides into two halves, one for sports and one for life, as you know, with thirty poems in either section. Which one?

Hmm, replied Leon. Tennis or God?

Jeremy glanced at the top of the bookshelf with a couple of tennis trophies. You know, son, just because your father was a tennis player his whole youth doesn’t mean you have to be. I know you have time ahead until next season, but just food for thought.

You and Mommy put me in those sports the last two years. I like swimming, but I feel like tennis is best. The tennis ball flying across the court… is like my happy and sad feelings. He looked across the room at the crucifix and portrait of Mother Mary on his wall. I think the life section of pah-lun-domes is better… than sports. Also, I only read one title in it.

Jeremy tried to hide a sudden shock at Leon’s words. Okay then, Palindromes Section Life. Thirty poems. Why don’t you pick that one, and we can reflect a bit on it?

Instantly, Leon replied, The Precious Gift. Jeremy’s heart almost dropped at the sound of the title. It was the first and shortest of the thirty poems but the most personal one. Usually, it was one he avoided the most, but it was Leon’s seventh birthday tomorrow. Jeremy could not help but think it may have been the age of reason that sent its spirit at the right time, especially with only two of them in the house. He almost wished he had never submitted this specific poem to the Maine Press.

Okay, fine, Jeremy said with confidence. This may look too long, but…

I’m going to write notes! Leon exclaimed while grabbing a piece of paper on his bed Jeremy had not noticed before. With Leon’s left hand raising the paper, Jeremy looked outside the square window through its open blinds. It is a curved moon tonight!

Jeremy walked over to crack open the window from its hinge a bit.

That is a waning crescent, Leon! Jeremy exclaimed as his son twisted his head toward Jeremy and connected to the raised paper, resulting in a paper cut on his left ear.

Ouch! Ha-ha. I’m fine! Leon said.

There’s a little blood. Hold on! Jeremy replied as he pulled a cream and bandage from Leon’s dressing table.

I’m fine! Leon exclaimed. "It is not bad! Daddy, what is the Y Jesus shape on the wall called again?"

Jeremy felt a jarring twist in his mind at the change of subject. It is a crucifix. Out came water and blood…which is the white and red rays.

Leon continued to keep curious eyes on the crucifix without following with a response.

Okay, listen, son, Jeremy continued. He read:

"‘What would you like to be when you grow up, Jeremy?’

The kindergarten teacher’s voice was so sweet in my mind, as that of any sane and loving Mom.

The gifts within myself provide more electricity to me than the physical gifts I receive on Christmas Eve.

I felt my duty to find them, but they felt distant as that of my dad."

Jeremy looked up insecurely at Leon’s face but noticed Leon looked unfazed on the edge of the bed while swinging his legs back and forth. Jeremy continued:

"This poem contains palindromes endings, each different on some level.

Life is hard. Where is the metronome? It ticks to help us persist in any deed.

But understand even though the s-u-n gives light, the s-o-n within me…"

Jeremy briefly looked at Leon, who was now in the fetal position just under the bed covers while staring at his father.

"…can only serve the Son, with the capital S, even when the s-u-n is full in sight at noon.

Oh, how we fear nevertheless and resort to stressed desserts."

Will I have an ice cream cake tomorrow for my birthday? Leon asked with excitement.

Of course, son, Jeremy replied.

So, what is the precious gift we seek? It is not one but many, and when we find one, we are asked if we found it and answer I did, did I?

"I like that the lowercase i has a dot over it, like a candle!" Leon interrupted.

I like that, Jeremy replied bluntly. He continued:

"But there are many as I reflect writing this at age twenty in the back of my 8 Kayak.

Every chapter has at least one gift we must seek with our eyes. It is an evolving battle. What is bad to come can be converted into good, indeed.

That is what we should remember when we fall. All good and bad happens for a reason, so keep the vision in a top spot."

Should I keep this book on top of the shelf? chuckled Leon.

My son, wherever you would like, Jeremy replied humbly.

"Don’t be close-minded and understand the measurement, vision, and self-identity of the basement; it is dark, but in the invisible are the answers that make us go wow!

Why do we look at the external and blush our color within our cheeks, rather than look internally for peace and joy and admire what is external for what they are internally? To unlock one’s hidden treasure, the first step is to take a small yet powerful action. Do justice. Don’t nod.

God is in you, but are you in God? Expose the radar."

Jeremy took a quick glance at the yellow snake toy near Leon. It was hard to tell if Leon was almost bored to sleep or in pensive thought at whatever interpretation he had of Jeremy’s words. Jeremy read on:

If no, you just know. If yes, the answer is clear when one has gone through the darkness and arrived at the mark. But yet again, the tribulation of life perpetuates as we continue to battle up and down, never odd or even.

God is in you, but are you in God? Leon repeated, looking solemnly at his dad.

Jeremy found himself looking deeply into Leon’s eyes right after his son spoke and recognized their holistic design for their beauty, simplicity, and truth in a context he could not explain. It was an awkward and unsettling feeling of admiration that had him respond quickly.

Weh… well, yes. You must find the mark. We go to church, see family… oh, and hiking, Jeremy said arbitrarily.

No! No! exclaimed Leon. I was just repeating the line, but I have a question. Why Pah-lun-drumes? What difference do those make?

I-I just like, Jeremy stuttered, the look of the opposite reflection of the letters within the words intrigue me. It is like balance. You know what a palindrome is, as I explained it to you several times outside your bedroom throughout the course of the year.

Leon simply stared with a content face. The boy sounded satisfied, but Jeremy sensed he should have given Leon a more sophisticated answer he did not know of. Jeremy gulped but felt like Leon did not notice as he added: I think this is my favorite poem of your whole book and all others.

Jeremy noticed Leon’s eyes had a wave of tiredness. Leon lay on his back and rolled over toward his pillow, placing himself under the bed sheets, ready to doze off. The alarm clock beside his bed read 8:30 p.m.

Jeremy said, We can try the tennis chapter in the sports section now that we finished that poem.

As Jeremy shifted the topic, he gave Leon a final smile into his eyes but blocked any sense of deep eye connection. He felt an urge to read from a random poem of the tennis section in the second half of the book. He read from a poem named Tennis Reflections:

"I am two years out of my high school tennis career.

I reflect on what my life’s poems mean to me now at nineteen."

Jeremy felt a sudden guilt at what he was reading from years ago. Here, his six soon-to-be seven-year-old son was conveying the message that passions, such as sports, only enhanced life, but that was not what life was about. Instead of a flashback to the now-empty hypothetical delights of what he could have been in tennis, his mind shifted, for the first time, to what Leon could be in to fill the void of the peak success he never attained.

I learned competition is fierce but must not deter one’s focus.

Father Christopher mentioned he played tennis in Bronze River County, right? Leon asked as his curiosity beamed in his face.

Yes, Jeremy answered, straightening his shoulders and back while grasping the book. He quickly went back to reading without looking back at Leon’s face.

Father Christopher McKindred, Jeremy thought, as he subconsciously read the rest of the twenty-seven lines of the poem without any focus on their meaning but only the punctuality of his pronunciation. In his imagination, however, came the distant memory of a former tennis teammate at Saint Michael the Archangel’s school, the humble Jason Oscar, who was facing him at the Bronze River County high school championship final round; Jason, representing Our Lady Star of the Sea’s school instead, and Jeremy representing Saint Michael the Archangel’s school.

As Jeremy finished reading the poem, he stared down at the rectangular blue Persian rug and repeated ummm several times to keep his communication with Leon on some sort of a flow. Jeremy reflected on Jason’s top ranking in the state his junior year at Saint Michael’s and could not help but wonder as he had nearly every week for the past decade. Why did Jason transfer from a coed K–12 private school (Saint Michael’s) to an all-boys private high school (Our Lady Star of the Sea) just before his senior year?

The following thought felt like it put a dent in his stomach. Jeremy remembered, just like yesterday, the cheer from the crowd as an emotional Jason Oscar just beat him in the final round to win the county championships their senior year. The gut punch came not at the memory of seeing Jason hug a seventeen-year-old Christopher McKindred in the stands but the affectionate hug and kiss Jason received from a seventeen-year girl of Native American descent at Jeremy’s school, who’s beauty mesmerized Jeremy, starting from her hazel-colored eyes and braids.

Jeremy subtly pulled out his phone, as his head was pounding intensely, and tapped into the contacts list. Few names were on the list. But at last he let go of his thumb on the only stand-alone first name on the entire list: Miranda. It almost felt like just yesterday that he deleted Laker after her name, but it was really around eight years ago.

You have to be all in, with every fiber of your body, a comforting yet troubled female voice echoed into Jeremy’s head.

Still staring at Miranda, it seemed like the two outer vertical lines, in M, were boldly staring back at Jeremy in the form of hazel braids. He could vividly see, without closing his eyes, the teary hazel pretty eyes and black eyelashes staring pensively back at him with her ultimatum echoing in his mind.

A subtle, ominous sound, similar to a tiger’s or lion’s growl, crept into his ears. Jeremy abruptly clicked out of the contacts list, staying complacent with the idea he had not texted Miranda in six years—perhaps the last text was a simple Merry Christmas text—and gasped as he swiftly put the phone in his pocket and caught Leon fast asleep with low snores, hugging the yellow snake.

To not disturb the peace, Jeremy closed the door ajar, keeping the lights on in case Leon woke up from his nap. Jeremy went downstairs and hopped onto the living room couch. His eyes met with the drawer and a phone charger underneath. Whether or not he needed it did not matter, as the phone screen was the last thing he wanted to get sucked into. At the far corner behind Mother Mary’s statue was a small portrait of Emme’s parents. Jeremy found himself holding back an unprecedented surge of tears.

A cascade of fear spiraled down his chest, and he grabbed the couch pillow near him and looked at the DVD player clock below the flat-screen TV, which read 9 p.m.

His eyes shifted to the tapestry of Jesus, and he closed his eyes gently with dozens of doves multiplying fire, penetrating the darkness below his eyelids. The Palindromes’ words whispered back to him: Son… gift… tennis…

The last vivid 3D image under his eyelids was a pair of beautiful, radiant hazel eyes, making him feel like he was now plunging into a jacuzzi of guilty pleasure.

***

Knocks? No. Footsteps? Yes, footsteps. Leon came back downstairs. Emme had just left, but she could have been home for the past hour since he lay on the couch. The time was just before 9 p.m., as he could recall. Before he could get to his feet, Leon appeared right beside the couch and said, Dad, when are we going on that hike?

Is Emme back? Leon is downstairs just to ask about the hike?

The boy’s tone came across as very urgent and was very unlike his usual joyful voice.

It’s been two years since a hike, I know. But why so desperate all of a sudden? I thought you were sound asleep, Jeremy said.

Trust the hike. You can do it. We can go with Grandpa and Grandma and maybe bring your mommy and daddy back to life, Leon said as his head began to nod perpetually.

Wha— Jeremy said as he was interrupted by a jarring sound of some cutlery in a bowl.

Is that what you heard outside the square window? came Emme’s voice from the kitchen side.

Jeremy got up and felt like he was moving twice as fast as usual. He saw Emme flipping a frying pan, left and right, on the stove with a chicken leg frying on it.

What? Jeremy said a second time. I thought there was lobster for dinner.

Yes! exclaimed Leon. Through the window.

The windows open? Emme replied as if Jeremy was not present in the middle of them.

Hey! Enough of these questions! Hello! I am here! Is it past midnight already? Jeremy shuddered, looking directly at Emme.

But at that second, Emme’s eyes shifted toward the door in a catatonic manner as the doorbell rang. Jeremy twisted around to see a blurry pretty looking woman around the same age as him with an identical girl around ten or eleven years old next to her. The blurriness faded, and he was now staring at a pair of hazel eyes and hazel braids of a familiar face. He felt his heart drop and severe tension. Miranda? Jeremy asked, glued onto the older guest’s face.

The younger girl swiftly ran toward Jeremy in a peculiar fashion. After he recognized an erratic motion beating out of the heart side of her chest, he gasped as he recognized the girl as the same eleven-year-old Miranda he knew back at Saint Michael’s Elementary. His body felt like it was levitating.

Duh-di! the younger Miranda exclaimed.

In utter confusion, Jeremy gasped harder a second time, and he was now staring up at the living room’s chandelier.

***

It took him a couple of blinks to make sure nobody was near the front door. Before Jeremy could think of yelling Leon’s name to confirm he was in reality…

Ding! Ding!

Jeremy threw himself back on the couch with his arms wrapped around the pillow again. Another ring got him to spring to his feet. Who could be visiting this time of the night? Jeremy thought as he got up and made his way to the door.

With a confident unlock of the front door, he came face to face with Emme’s wide smile and blushing cheeks. He immediately tried to compartmentalize the thought of the dream as he felt too desperate to ask her about her request to keep the windows open.

Three doorbell rings, Emme said as her grin curved from one side of her cheeks.

Um, yes, Jeremy said arbitrarily. What time is it?

It is 9:10 p.m. I was off around 8:55 p.m. Riverland Plaza is only a fifteen-minute drive there and back as well. It feels good to be back. Riverland is building a brand-new hospital, set to be open in the fall. Riverland Hospital, Emme replied.

What did your manager say about scheduling your own clients’ meetings? Jeremy said, as it was the first thing that came to mind.

Emme stepped in and closed the door after clicking the Chary’s lock key. I let her know I would occupy my office on Monday and Thursday mornings and then Friday evenings as well. All other of my personal meetings can be online, Emme said as she turned toward the chandelier in the living room.

The majority of my clients are women or girls, you know. Hey, the couch, it looks like you were lying down? Emme continued.

Oh! Yes! Jeremy replied bluntly.

Oh ha-ha, okay. Anyway, as I was saying. I think of big sis Serena. I am grateful for our boy, but hopefully, one day, he can have a sister. But regardless, I am grateful that today we have Leon as it is. It is the little things, you know? Emme said.

A new sister or a new brother will change the mastermind under this roof, Jeremy said, finding himself closer to reality now.

Right! Emme agreed as if Jeremy had his own therapy session. While breathing in the same space, we live different worlds in our heads.

Jeremy replied, I noticed something similar myself. When reading to Leon just now, his eyes spoke something I cannot really convey. Jeremy noticed how vulnerable his comment was and felt it out of his character to expose his thoughts so openly without a second thought, even to his own wife. He would not reveal the dream, though.

"Oh. Long eyelashes and brown eyes… that may resonate much more, especially as he approaches the age of reason," Emme said, placing her handbag down and skipping over to the rectangular kitchen table.

Ha. Sure. That may be it, Jeremy said in a sarcastic tone, thinking of the minor cut on Leon’s left ear.

Well, let’s cook some lobster. Even though it is late to cook, Emme said, opening the fridge.

Oh, Jeremy said, I forgot. He picked up the groceries that were sitting right next to the front door, of which they both missed upon Emme’s entrance as they were intense in conversation. Jeremy made his way to the kitchen table. Let’s freeze these up now. Better late than never.

Emme caught his focus. Hey, well, I had a protein shake on my drive back, so I am fine. But I know you would not skip dinner?

There was one note from the dream which Emme would not find suspicious, Jeremy thought.

The windows. Why did you tell me to open them? Of all days? Jeremy said, ignoring Emme’s statement.

The square one above the bed or the rectangular one against the side wall? Emme asked, twisting around to face Jeremy.

Well, I usually do both. I just opened the square window. Leon can reach the rectangular one, Jeremy said, looking downward.

It’s a cool, perfect night. Very calm. Let me put it that way, Emme replied sweetly.

Okay. But you always say put the fan on, Jeremy said, trying to be passive-aggressive.

A good opportunity for the outdoor world, no pun intended. She smiled and looked past the square kitchen window over the sink. Just look at the stars. The waning crescent moon looks perfect.

Let’s check on Leon, Jeremy said.

Faith over fear. This is a Christian household, Emme replied in a serious tone.

I know, Jeremy said with slight enthusiasm.

"You seem to always have this fear over Leon. I have heard you in your sleep express insecurities about Leon