(032)
It had been a reflex. Like a doctor’s hammer had fallen on his knee, but instead of kicking out he’d started walking. He’d left the office without a word, phone pinned to his ear and eyebrows furrowed, unconsciously distancing himself from the moment. He couldn’t say where he’d walked or what was leading him, except that he needed to get away – wherever away might be.
The park is all but abandoned, though perhaps unsurprisingly. The sun beams through the patchy canopy onto scorched bushes and flame-licked trees, and the smell of smoke still clings to the air and sticks in Jason’s nose. His brown leather shoes are ringed with soot from the forest path; the hems of his grey suit trousers becoming dusty and dishevelled, but he doesn’t notice. The phone call had long ended, but still he shakes his head, refusing to agree to the reality that had been forced upon him.
He follows the path downhill, unmoved by the devastation around him, numb even to the sight of a dead fox amongst the foliage, fur singed and curled up in a final act of desperation.
Away, away, away.
His feet lead him from the path, down a bank and into an ashen field, singularly occupied by the blackened remains of a once great tree. The sky above his head opens up and he feels his strength dissipating into it. His footsteps slow, his legs grow heavy and the weight on his chest robs him of his breath. Folding at the hips with his hands on his knees, he tries to inhale but merely retches, a cracked sob escaping at its nadir. His mouth mutters endlessly through a voice thick with tears.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
He stumbles towards the tree, hands outstretched begging for help. His fingertips connect and he presses his face and body against its charred trunk, holding himself close with eyes pinched shut, his mind conjuring the feel of missing arms around him. Body trembles. Face contorts. Saliva dribbles from his open mouth onto wounded roots beneath. First standing – then slumped – he holds on, butting his forehead against it once…twice, staining it black with each blow.
Time stands still and runs faster. Fumbling hands find his phone and dial a number. Swollen eyes watch as it rings. Mixed strings of snot and spit cling to his face untouched.
“Hey.” He croaks.
Deep breath, lip quivering.
“Yeah, I’m good…what you up to?”
Tears tumble from his lashes when he blinks.
“Ah, yeah– no, I was just uh–” his teeth sink into his lip to quell the second wave of tears. “No, nothing, I’m fine–” he moves the phone away and presses his nose into the tree. Choked sobs rock his whole body in spasms. The voice crackles, unheard through the phone speaker.
“Hmm?” He brings it back, biting down harder. “Mmm, I’m in the park– by the river.”
A pause. Tears cloud his vision once more. “Mmmhm…,” his jaw clenched, “yeah…I can’t–” he starts, but can say no more. He paws at the tree with his other hand, pulling himself tighter.
“I can’t.” He cries, listening to words that change nothing but bring solace nonetheless. The air is squeezed from his lungs and leaves him breathless and trembling. A static buzz engulfs him, the sound throbbing in his ears so loud he feels it tingling on his lips. Slicing through it from the phone, however, something reaches him. His lips form words in answer, though he couldn’t say how.
“You sure?” His voice breaks, his head nodding his agreeance.
“Thank you.” He sobs.
Then an unimaginable laugh bursts free and his misty eyes shimmer in the light.
“Yeah,” he rasps, “come waste some time with me.”
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