Джордан Шор - The Search

“Are you all right, Jack?”

“I failed,” Jack mumbled.

“They make those screens to reflect as little sunlight as possible.”

Jack looked at Julie and frowned. “I wasn’t there for her.”

Julie bowed her head. “It’s not your fault, Jack.”

“I should have been there for her.”

“It’s not your fault, Jack.”

“I should’ve protected her,” Jack said. “She was too weak to make it on her own.”

Julie kept staring at Jack. “Did you two know each other?”

Jack gave Julie a sharp stare.

“Sorry,” Julie said and trained her eyes down. “You’re a good man, Jack.”

“I’m broken ,” Jack said vaguely with a sad expression.

“You and me both. But not for long.”

Jack looked baffled. “What?”

“Not once we sue the airline.”

“Oh.” Jack nodded slightly, but then shook his head firmly. “Money won’t make a difference.”

“That’s just something rich people say,” Julie responded. “Money doesn’t make a difference if you have more than you need.”

“Time is all that matters.” Jack shrugged. “And when your time is up, then your life is over. Money won’t make a difference.”

“What are you talking about?” Julie said. “You’re starting to sound like an eccentric millionaire.”

“Wealth won’t make you happy, Julie.”

“Are you sure you’re not an eccentric millionaire? You kind of dress like one,” Julie said and looked Jack up and down.

Jack looked down at the suit he wore. “I never had much money, and I didn’t have much growing up.”

“And were you happy?” Julie quickly responded in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Jack shook his head. “No, I wasn’t.”

Evening

Once again, they’d used pine branches to protect themselves from the moist soil. Julie wore two sweaters, and one of them was purple. She curled up close to Jack, her hair band still on her wrist.

“I like your clothes,” Julie said. “I don’t think you look pretentious, or anything.”

“That’s okay.” Jack tone was as short as his response.

“You dress well for a truck driver,” Julie said. “I’m smiling by the way.”

“I’m not a truck driver, Julie. I just drove a truck when I was younger. That’s all,” Jack said. “I’m currently unemployed.”

“Is that why you wore a suit?” Julie asked enthusiastically. “Did you have a job interview in Anchorage?”

“No, I just wanted to look good. That’s all.”

“For a date?” Julie sounded overly cute and curious.

“No, I was…” Jack hesitated. “…to attend a funeral.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“That’s okay. But I rather not talk about it.”

Just another day

There’s a fly on the ceiling. It moves back and forth, and I can’t help looking at it. The fly almost distracts me from the pain I’m in. I try to adjust my body, but I can’t move. My body doesn’t comply with my attempts. The waves keep coming. Waves and waves of agonizing pain.

I’m not present. I’m somewhere else. Even if the pain is present, my mind is elsewhere. Nothing’s real anymore. Dreaming is the little joy I have left in life. Whenever I dream, I’m somewhere else, and not trapped in this bed. But as soon as I wake up, I realize I’m still trapped in my own version of hell.

I wish they’d kill me, grant me the honor of dying. But, instead, they nurture me. They’re making an effort to preserve my body. They wash me with a sponge, and they insist on shaving my legs. They each have their own routines, and their own schedules, but my day never changes. Every day is the same.

Oh, how I hope to die during the night.

Sometimes, they actually speak to me. But usually, they speak about me. Either way, they never address me as a person. They don’t view me as a human being. To them, I am something else. I’m not a person anymore. I’m only alive to please others. I don’t have any other function in life.

Oh, how I wish they’d let me die, and put me out of my misery.

But I’m not blaming them for my misfortune. I brought this on myself. Every day I wake up furious with myself. I try to forgive myself, show leniency toward myself. But I never forgive myself.

I had one life, and I ruined it.

I don’t remember when it was, but I remember seeing the truck.

Sunday morning

George’s throat felt dry from reading the letter out loud to his sister. The letter didn’t sound like anything a brother would have written; it sounded like something a public relations manager had written. However, the lack of authenticity didn’t stop his mother from crying her eyes out while stroking his sister’s hair in a nurturing and frantic manner. His father, however, didn’t cry at all, and he hadn’t uttered a single word during the entire visit.

His father kept staring at the face of the lifeless manikin who once was George’s sister. But then, suddenly, his father averted his eyes, and instead focused on the television mounted on the wall.

The whole scene made him nauseous, and George asked himself if he really knew any of the people in this room. He certainly didn’t understand any of them.

“ Luke ,” his father said in a thick Japanese accent while pointing at the television.

As George read the letters on the television, he felt even more nauseous.

Sunday morning

Julie struggled to get the pine needles out of her hair. At first, Jack didn’t pay much attention to her. But when she put her hair up, he wouldn’t stop staring at her.

“Do I have something in my hair?”

“No, it looks fine.”

“Yeah. Sure, it does.”

Jack kept eyeing Julie.

“What?” Julie sounded concerned.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t mind,” Julie said. “I just wondered why.”

“It’s just that you remind me of someone else wearing your hair like that.”

“You mean the ponytail?” Julie pulled her hair to the side, across her shoulder. “Well, who do I remind you of? An old girlfriend? A high school sweetheart who got away?”

“Actually, you remind me of my mother.”

“Oh really.” Julie sighed.

“Yes, there is something about you that keeps reminding me of her. I can’t place my finger on it, though.”

Julies made a face. “Well, that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you wouldn’t kiss me the other day.”

“No, that’s not why.”

Julie’s smile quickly vanished. “Why then?”

“It wasn’t genuine, Julie.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was obvious you didn’t really want to kiss me.”

“Then why do you think I tried to kiss you?” Julie looked startled.

“Why do you think you wanted to kiss me?”

“Spare me the psychology and just answer the question,” Julie said harshly.

“Okay.” Jack raised his palms. “Your mind can be quite deceitful, Julie. It’s hard to distinguish between impressions and emotions.”

“I told you to spare me the psycho mumbo-jumbo, Jack.”

“You’re out here all alone, and you can’t walk. You feel scared and vulnerable. But when I come along, that anxiety goes away. And when I leave, the anxiety returns. Therefore, you will feel a longing to be with me because it’s feels good to be around me.”

“So, you didn’t want to take advantage of me. Is that what you’re saying?”