My Bridge To Forever by Tavares Jones

Author:Tavares Jones [Jones, Tavares]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brandt Hoffman
Published: 2015-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

Six

I rouse from a pleasant dream of me and her enjoying an intimate evening walk at the park to early morning sunshine beaming through the bare opening in the wall that once functioned as a window. Its moderate temperature brushes against my left temporal lobe, like Jen oftentimes does with the smooth touch of her left hand, either along the side of my face or from the sternum to my defined core, the mornings her eyes open before mine.

I can envision the broad smile she makes at the sight of me becoming awake and me mirroring her expression at how amazing it is waking next to her. I feel the warmth from her bare, silky figure against me. I hear the sudden calmness in her breathing at the sight of my mouth rising. I picture her soul smiling, with each look into her eyes. I picture her looking in my face with the perfect smirk, illustrating how she appreciates me, or with an attentive gesture, wanting to hear what I plan to accomplish for the workday. I never thought I would ever be waking to mornings without her next to me, without my arm cuddled around her, in position to greet her forehead a good morning embrace of affection.

I slip from the sleeping bag to lean against the wall near the pillow, mushed on the floor just above the hood, quite careful not to generate audible sounds; Mr. Louis, comfortable on his side with his back to me, is still out like a light. Relaxing the back of my head onto the wall, I am finally able to view the bedroom in detail. It has charred discolorations on the ceiling, and the walls. The trashcan and months-old plate of food I was able to make out nights ago are how I remember, the timber floor as tough as nails, and ragged.

“Morning,” he speaks out of nowhere, surprising me.

“Oh! Didn’t know you were awake.”

“Yep.” He slides from his sleeping bag to mimic me on his side of the bedroom.

“Oh.”

“You alright?”

“First time getting a good look at the place.”

“And?”

“Was just looking.”

I notice him lower his face in my peripheral vision.

“Lemme share something with you, young buck. Ain’t no preacher, or nothing like that. Hear me out, because I’ve been where you are. The color of our skin may be different. Our backgrounds, our personalities, our characters, our ages, our minds, too. But life happens the same exact way. Puts us in predicaments we never see coming. Puts us in places we thought we’d never be. I’d the same look on my face my first time seeing this place, like you. Early one morning, a little over three years ago. ’On’t blame you for feeling the way you feel. Know it’s easier said than done, but it’s what you make out of it. You can sit ’round, pout, be sad or depressed or feeling sorry for yaself. Or you can take it with a grain of salt while you learn what He”—Mr. Louis points a finger in the direction of the ceiling—“tryna show you.

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