Jewel

         Jewel is lying on her back thinking of her childhood in the mountains of West Virginia. Grandparents raised her alone and didn’t send her to school until she was eight. Reacting to the sight of other children was what lingered in her mind as she laid waiting for the dryer to sound. Sunlight streaming through the window shades made its way across the wall onto the one hanging picture. It was of a small farm, a sort of rural scene you’d find at a Saturday morning yard sale. Her attention remained fixed on the ceiling, speckled with subtle glitter.”Who thinks this looks nice?” she thought, fixated on something superfluous, but all too debatable in her world. “Those kids back then probably saw all kinds of things,” she said aloud, leaning right to reach the saucer on the floor. Another sip went down slowly and she lay back on the floor, staring up again.

Specks of dust floated through the sunlight before Jewel’s eyes. She sat up once more, disenchanted with her fading buzz and sighed heavily. The sun warmed the back of her head. She closed her eyes and sank into impatience. Silence seemed to elude her when she yearned for it the most. Rustling leaves and spotting an animal in the brush became distant happenings. Jewel bowed her head a little more, straightening herself up doing so. Nostalgia had taken time and emotion from her but left tips to manage its poison. She sat for what seemed to be no longer than ten minutes or so. In fact, it had been almost an hour. The dryer sounded but her attention remained elsewhere. With clasped knees and closed eyes, Jewel began to tremble thinking of growth. Never in her life had she wanted to escape more than now. “What do I do?” Jewel said quietly, fighting tears and a wild imagination.

A close friend came to mind as she sat sniffling. Her advice, the kind that burns, felt all too necessary in this moment. Jewel let go of her legs and crawled on all fours toward the record player just below the picture. Her friend’s music was strewn across the carpet. It was too much for Jewel to sort through. A Hall & Oates record caught her eye as she raised the saucer to her lips again. She scooted forward, reaching for the music and hoping it was as good as she remembered. Jewel was sure nothing could sound as sweet as it once had. The record fell from the sleeve after lifting it carelessly. She picked it up and placed it face-up on the player. The needle needed replacing but it sounded normal to Jewel. When the Morning Comes filled the room as the day ended with orange streaks falling on the far wall. Jewel was no longer trembling. Her eyes opened and she grinned. 

A knock at the door came just as She’s Gone began to play. Everything Jewel had contemplated that evening was suddenly lost. “It’s probably Jaimie…forgot her key again,” Jewel thought. She got to her feet, stretched her arms, and strolled toward the front door. “Someone’s in a rush,” she said aloud hearing the hum of a car engine outside. A moment before grabbing the door handle, she considered the chance that it was him. With tiptoes, she lifted herself and peered through the peep-hole. All she could make out was the silhouette of a woman in a dress, standing in front of a car’s headlights.