Jackson Jones awoke that morning, completely unsure of where the day was going to carry him. He rose lazily out of the sweat-drenched cotton blend sheets that had covered him from head to toe the night before. Like a mother they had swaddled him into a distant dream, providing a sense of comfort as they wiped away his tears.
The alarm sounded on the nightstand, partially drowned by the dense collection of used tissue and ripped sheets of notebook paper that cluttered its surface. With a swift flick of his hand, he removed the debris off the digital alarm clock and quickly pressed the “Stop” button, before the “Jam of the Day” from that radio station he detested so much started blasting and woke his neighbors in the apartment next door.
“AHH! Damnit,” he winced as a pain from his lower back shot up through his spine. Clutching his back, he moved carefully from the tiny bedroom to the kitchenette. After eight hours of lying in the fetal position, he guessed he was lucky the pain was not more severe.
Jackson liked to begin his mornings with a steaming-hot cup of tea with warm milk and brown sugar. He loved how the sweet raspberry aroma wafted throughout the apartment. The scent always reminded him of something. Something he had once known. Like a dream—or a dream of a dream. But he couldn’t dwell on the thought for too long; he would be late for work. He hurriedly guzzled down the hot tea, impervious to the burns on his tongue and throat and rushed into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he jumped into his uniform and headed out the door, down the stairs, and onto the street.
He walked along his usual path: Two houses down the block then a left onto Liberty Drive, then four more blocks and a right past the old bank and straight across the street to Windermere Shopping Center and Plaza. It was usually only about a 30-minute walk from his apartment to the Plaza, but something weighed him down that day. For some odd reason, it felt as if he was not just walking to work but literally using every ounce of his strength to push off the ground with each step. He felt another tinge of pain, this time in his temples. Assuming it to be the aftershock of his back pain, Jackson rubbed his head tenderly as he continued on his walk.
As he wandered through the revolving doors of the Plaza, he glanced around the foyer to make sure his supervisor, Mike, wouldn’t spot him coming in late. He had almost completely surveyed the room until a faint glimmer shone in the corner of his eye. He instinctively craned his neck to see what it could be. Then, in that one gloriously horrifying moment, his whole world shattered and rebuilt before his eyes.
He didn’t think she was real: The touch of sunlight in her eyes, the dark brown curls that bounced effortlessly to one side of her small, delicate face. Her caramel, honey colored skin that glistened like a rare gem, the likes of which he had never before beheld. He blinked, expecting the mirage to instantaneously vanish as quickly as it had appeared. But, she did not fade away. She merely walked across the foyer toward the escalator, her gait, to him, almost regal in nature.
She wore a yellow lace dress with a thin brown belt that accented her curvaceous figure beautifully and a pair of matching light brown boots that made a distinct little “Click, Clack, Click, Clack” that echoed throughout the hall.
He watched her move with a fierce intensity, determined to take in every inch of her, as if missing even one tiny piece would send her back to the heavens from whence she came. It wasn’t until she had gone all the way up the escalator and past from his sight that he remembered he was now, after checking his watch, 22 minutes late for work.
“Shit!” With renewed energy, he bounded through the employee service entrance, up the steps to the second floor and passed as quietly as he could through the Swirly’s employee entrance.
“You’re late”, called a voice from the office next to the entrance door. Reluctantly, Jackson stopped dead in his tracks.
“Sorry Mike, my water wasn’t working again this morning and I had to call the maintenance guy to fix it. But I swear, it won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t. One more slip up like that and you’re outta here. Got it?”
“Come on! This the first time I’ve been late in like six months! Don’t I get like three strikes or something?” He called back. There was a long screech as the office chair exhaled, finally free of the man’s heavy frame. Looking through the cracked doorway, he saw Mike shuffling towards him, every step requiring more effort of the short, corpulent man. Even from this distance, Jackson could already see his furry black mustache quivering with frustration. The door flew open.
“Listen here kid, this is a business. A very profitable business, that needs people like me to run it efficiently. And how do I do that? By filing orders for more ice cream mix, buying more plastic cups, paying bills, and scheduling YOUR hours. But, when little punks like you show up late for work, who do you think has to cover for them? ME!” There was a pungent egg smell seeping from his pores and a hint of gin on his breath. “But wait, if I’m out covering for YOU, who’s answering the phones and paying bills and running this business in here? Oh right, NO ONE! You catch my drift, pretty boy?”
Jackson hesitated, trying desperately to hold in his lungs the last bit of fresh air he had. “Yeah I’m catching a very STRONG drift from you Mike!” He wrinkled his nose as he looked into the heavy-set man’s black, beady little eyes.
“Good...now stop gawking at me and go GET TO WORK!” The young man scurried out to the front counter, anxious to be free of the egg and alcohol smell and Mike altogether.
As the hours dragged on, he replayed over and over the image of the Girl in the Yellow Dress. She had invaded every facet of his mind as he yearned to see her once more. Every now
and then he thought he heard a faint “Click, Clack, Click, Clack” in the distance, and each time his breathing shortened and pulse quickened as he desperately searched for the source of the sound.
More time passed. He checked his watch, a bright red “9:01 p.m.” flashed up at him—closing time. He powered down his register and began as slowly as he could to clean the countertops, hoping upon hope that she might still appear if he waited just a little longer.
“Hey hurry up kid! Some people actually wanna go home!!” Mike called from the back of the store.
“Alright I’m coming, I’m coming!!—asshole,” he muttered to himself as he knelt down to get more plastic cups from the bottom shelf.
“Umm...excuse me?
“We’re closed,” he answered, reaching further underneath the shelf.
“Ohh no that’s not it. I was actually wondering if you had any job applications left?”
He sighed, rose to his feet and turned around. “Look, you really don’t—,” he began. He stood there, mouth agape, staring into the autumn-colored eyes of the Girl in the Yellow Dress, the glimmer of sunlight still present. And there she was, looking back at him. He suddenly felt lightheaded and after a moment realized he’d stopped breathing. He gasped for air as she watched him, utterly perplexed with the hint of a smirk emerging from her succulent pink lips.
“You okay there?” she asked, the smirk clearly present now.
He shook his head, blinking furiously. “SNAP OUT OF IT!!” He screamed inside his head. He blinked again, the blur of her face coming into focus. She was more beautiful than he remembered.
“Umm, yes—I’m fine. Sorry. W-What did you ask me?”
A smile crept across her mouth as she bit her lip and dropped her gaze. “I was wondering if there were any more job applications left? I’ve been in here all day and tried like every store in this place but none of them are hiring for the summer. Can you help me?” She lifted her head slowly, her eyes meeting his.
“Absolutely!!” he said, a little louder than necessary. She jerked back, startled by his outburst. “I mean yes, I will help you!” he recovered. “Just give me a sec.” He scurried to the back of the store, and into the supply closet. Frantically, he tore through rolls of receipt paper, sleeves of plastic cups, and boxes of straws till he found the stack of job applications buried underneath some specialty Swirly’s Coupon Booklets. He brushed the booklets aside and reached for an application, then sprinted back to the front counter.
“Hurry up dick-wad, I’m not gonna tell you again! And NO RUNNING!! If you hurt yourself on the clock, corporate will be all over my ass!” Mike called after him.
Jackson burst back through the door to the counter, hand outstretched with the job application. Slowly, she stretched out her hand and took the paper from him, her eyes studying him carefully. Alarmed by her gaze, his eyes darted downward, checking there were no leftover stains on his shirt or pants.
“No, there’s nothing there,” she laughed. His eyes shot up.
“Wha—what do you mean?” he asked, pretending not to know.
“There’s nothing on your shirt. Anyway, thanks for your help.” She smiled and turned away, preparing to go.
“Wait!” he called, “What’s your name?”
She stopped and turned back, her eyes once again meeting his. He waited for her reply, but she made no sound. Instead, she began to giggle and drifted away, her yellow dress flowing behind her. He was so entranced by her that it took several moments for him to notice the small napkin that was flapping gently by his hand. He carefully raised the shred to his eyes, intently memorizing the ten numbers that stretched across the napkin and the one word etched above them, the most perfect word he’d ever seen: Kara
As he walked home that night, Kara plagued Jackson’ mind: The way she walked, the sound of her voice, the sunlight in her eyes. He remembered the napkin nestled safely in his left breast pocket and couldn’t help but smile. He had decided to wait a few days before calling, so as not to appear desperate or over-eager, though he knew in his heart that it couldn’t be helped. He had fallen in love with a stranger; the Girl in the Yellow Dress.
Then, the pain began.
The fluorescent streetlights seared his eyes and his head felt like it was being split with a crowbar.
“AHHH!!!” Jackson screamed as he dropped to the sidewalk, writhing in agony. He pressed his temples together, desperate to keep the halves of his head from splitting.
“WHAT...THE...HELL...IS...HAPPENING!!!” He lied there crying, head in his hands, begging for the pain to stop. A couple who had been walking by, heard his cry and rushed to his side.
“Barbara, call 911! Hold tight buddy, it’s gonna be alright...Barbara NOW!” He could feel the man’s firm hands clutching his arms, trying to raise him to his feet. But, as he began to rise, the pain intensified. Then, all he saw was black.
“W-Where am I?”
“It’s ok. You’re at the hospital. But don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.”
That voice. He knew that voice. Slowly Jackson turned his head. His vision was still blurred, but he could tell it was a woman.
“Kara? Is that you?”
The woman chuckled, stood from her chair, and began to approach him.
“Wh...what are you doing?” He could just barely see her blurred frame enlarging before him until she was right beside his bed. She bent over him, leaning closer and closer. A faint hint of raspberry wafted from her hair as it lightly brushed his face. Her arms embraced him and he felt her head rest gently on his chest.
“I’ve missed you, Jackson.” He flinched and she quickly released him. “What’s wrong baby?”
“Who are you!?”
“Oh...right. I guess you wouldn't recognize me huh. You were only a baby at the time, after all. But I must confess, I did hope you’d have at least a little recollection of me.”
“Listen lady, I don't know what is going on here, and I’m not in the mood for games. I’m going to ask you one last time, WHO THE HELL ARE Y-”
“I’m you’re mother, Jackson.”
It felt as if the air had been punched from his lungs. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, attempting to restore his vision. The dark red curls and pale blue eyes did seem familiar. But it wasn’t enough to make him believe that his mother has suddenly risen from the dead.
“What the hell are you talking about? My mother’s gone!”
“No, Sweetheart.” She walked over to him, rested her palm on his cheek, and smiled. “I’m here, I’ve always been here. Don’t you remember me at all?”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!” He yelled as he scanned the room. The cold linoleum floor, the fuzzy white fluorescent lights which purred overhead, and the scratchy linen sheets that he now sat up gave little explanation for his circumstances. But he quickly remembered he was not alone, and his gaze shifted back toward the woman, who had inched into the shadow at the edge of the room.
“Look, whoever you are, you need to get the hell outta here, NOW!”
“Oh Jackson, honey, don’t be that way,” she said as she stepped back into the light. His mouth ran dry, his breath short, and the shock on his face quickly turned to fear as he could clearly see her face he’d known so long ago. The face he’d longed to see again ever since he was a boy. Her piercing blue eyes studied him intently, reading the expression on his face.
“You don‟t have to be afraid, sweetie. Everything is alright.”
“How is this possible?...You...You're dead...You're supposed to be dead.” She sighed as she sat down beside him. She placed her hand on his leg, rubbing it gently as she smiled at him lovingly. After a moment, her smile began to quiver. He watched as she bowed her head and wept. Only her gentle sobs and the soft patter of her tears falling to the sheets broke the silence between them. She wiped her eyes and turned to him.
“I am so, so sorry,” she sniffled, brushing the curls out of her face. “I am so sorry that you’ve felt so alone. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there, all those nights you would cry for me...,” she gasped, holding back tears. “But most of all, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you how much I loved you, every single day.” Now she was crying harder than before, her whole body shaking.
He reached out his hand and gently rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. At his touch, he could feel her back stiffen in surprise. She turned to him, her puffy, red eyes staring at him questioningly.
“I don’t know if you really are my mom,” he said softly, “but if you are, I’m gonna need some answers. Starting with how you’re alive.” He smiled reassuringly. She smiled back, rubbing her eyes.
“But that’s just it,” she said, bowing her head again. “I’m not alive.” He removed his hand and shifted cautiously back toward the headboard. Out the corner of her eye, she could see his reaction, but did not stir.
“If you’re dead, then how are you here?” He looked around the room again and threw up his hands. “And where is ‘here’? And what happened to me earlier!?” Jackson rubbed his temples, remembering the ordeal, as she pushed the hair behind her ear and turned towards him.
“You’re in the hospital, honey. And the pain you felt earlier—it was an aneurysm: bleeding in your brain. They rushed you into surgery and put you under. That’s how you wound up here. I could hear them though before you completely went out, the bleed isn't that bad. Not as bad as mine was. ”
“Yours?”, he asked.
“About a year after you were born, I was staying home with you because I didn’t want you in daycare so early.” She paused, her face sullen. “One day, I was giving you a bath after you’d spilled syrup all over yourself from breakfast that morning, when I suffered from what’s known as a Subarachnoid Hemorrhage. The pain seemed to come out of nowhere, just like yours did
tonight. I don't remember too much, but I felt...”, she stammered, “It felt like Hell...Like my mind was splitting in two and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” he said, rubbing his temples. She smiled and continued.
“As it was happening, I knew that I couldn’t take much more. I had already fallen onto the bathroom floor and you were still sitting in the tub, giggling at me. I figured you thought it was a new game.” Her voice trailed off as she remembered his blissfully happy face that day, completely oblivious to her pain. Before he could apologize, she raised her hand.
“There was nothing you could’ve done. There was nothing either of us could do. I was so scared to leave you there alone in that water. And after about 15 minutes of shear torture, I looked at you one last time...and it was over. You were still sitting in the tub, only now you’d noticed that I wasn’t moving anymore and eventually you were crying. You sat there, screaming for me, for six...,”she started sniffling again, and he knew tears were sure to follow. “Six hours, until your father came home and found us.”
“I’m so sorry...Mom.”
She sat up and turned to him sharply, her eyes again filled with tears and her lips pursed tightly together, trying to hold back her sobs. He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers.
“Mom?”, he asked softly.
“Hmm?”
“How is it that I can see you, and touch you? Am I, like, dying too?”
She wiped her eyes and looked at him tenderly. “No, baby, you’re not dying. I’ve always been with you, even if you didn’t know it. But I’m here now because you needed me the most.” She placed her other hand on top of his and held it tight.
“Listen closely Jackson. No matter how much I wish it was, this is not real. Right now you’re... ‘between’.” Jackson stared at her, puzzled by her words. “Between your world and mine. I came to help you get back.”
His eyes widened in surprise and he glanced around the room once more. “It’s alright sweetie, there’s no need to be frightened.”
“But, Mom...What if...What if I don’t want to go back?”, Jackson asked. “What do you mean?” she said, perplexed.
“I mean. All this time, I’ve lived my whole life not knowing you, not being able to talk to you, and barely remembering you. Now we’re finally together again.” He began to cry, “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Oh baby,” she sighed as she placed her palm on his cheek. “You are NEVER alone. I will ALWAYS be with you.” She pulled him in, squeezing him as tight as she could. And there, nestled in her warm embrace, a subtle hint of raspberry filling his nostrils, Jackson knew that this was what he’d been longing for. Then, she gently laid him down on the bed and kissed his forehead.
“Sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be alright. I promise.” She rose from his bed and began to walk toward the door. As she moved further and further away, he could feel the weariness bearing down on him. He fought hard to keep his eyes open, to take in one last look before she was gone. She had just reached the door, her hand on the knob, when she turned around.
“She’s very pretty by the way. The girl. Just promise me you won’t get married before you finish college.” His vision blurred, though he could just make out her smile. He tried to smile back, but the weight was too much and he fell deep into unconsciousness.
Jackson woke to the scent of raspberry. As he slowly opened his eyes, he could see the small candle that was burning on the counter beside the door, its flame dancing in the darkness. He turned to his right and there, sleeping in the chair by his bedside, was Kara. Her skin was even more radiant in the candlelight. She was wearing jeans and a pullover sweatshirt, her boots lying on the floor as she cradled in the armchair on the wall trying to get comfortable. She looked as if she’d been there for hours, maybe longer.
Jackson tried to reach out to her, but the residual pain from the surgery was too much for him. Kara stirred awake as he let out a low groan.
“Hey!” she gasped, “You’re awake!” she sat up and grabbed his hand. He looked at it for a moment then squeezed it back, a weak grin on his face.
“How’d you know I was here?” he asked, still groggy.
“I got a call from the Steve and Barbara. They were the couple that found you on the street when you passed out. I guess the napkin with my number had fallen out of your pocket when you fell. After the ambulance came, they called me, thinking I might be family or something. They told me you had no one else, so I came.”
Jackson looked at the door, remembering his mother. A single tear slid down his cheek as he looked away.
“What’s wrong?”, Kara whispered. “I know. You probably think I’m a stalker or something, just showing up here like this. I mean we only met once for crying out loud. I’m really sorry, I’ll
go. You need to rest anyway. ” As se tried to pull away, Jackson squeezed her hand, beckoning her to wait.
“No. I was thinking how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am that you came here to stay with me. Thank you, Kara. ” A little surprised, Kara smiled back at him as she sat beside him on the bed. She lifted his hand to her face and closed her eyes as she pressed it against her cheek. He smiled and turned his body toward her, caressing the delicate skin. And together they sat, the flame of the raspberry candle softly swaying nearby.
-END-