Jacob's Raven

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. An insult to Jacob. It was a reminder of the beauty of the world just beyond his bed. Darkness ate away at him in the form of stomach pains. Lurching and consuming, they pulsed through Jacob's torso, up through his spine and pounded at his temples. He had lived with aches and pains his entire life, though not as intense as these. This vile thing demanded his attention, calling for pause from whatever he was doing. It was as if he'd ignored a smoke detector within his body for years, and now, the alarms were getting louder. The pain subsided, the purple clouds dissipated and he closed his eyes, begging for sleep.

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The bell tolls for thee, Jacob thought miserably as he sat clutching his stomach on the side of the highway. The pain forced him to pull his car over to the shoulder to take some breaths. "What did the Doctor tell me again?" His eyes wildly darted the landscape as the pain pulsed. He was seeking anything to escape the waves of panic that arose within each sting. Trees. Cars. Fields. "Right, focus on something until the pain subsides." His eyes rested on a nearby raven, perched on the top of a telephone pole. It's black eyes staring through Jacob, giving him shivers, but he continued to focus. He took mental notes of it's shiny black beak, the curve of it's scalp through it's neck, the plump body, sleek feathered-wings and rough bark-like talons clinging to the wooden post. Taking slow breaths, the pain retracted just as the raven took flight, it's talons tucking within it's body. Jacob's pain tucked away for the moment too.

It was difficult to pinpoint the moment when life took a turn for the worse. Jacob had always been a happy-go-lucky guy, living for the moment and loved a good time. Back in his younger years, he had been the life of the party. Old photographs of his wild days at parties would reveal whimsical costumes he'd thrown on for a chuckle, and always a drink in-hand and cigarette in the other. These were the consequences of living too boldly, he surmised. He had done this to himself, and as he let that truth sink in, a wave of shame and regret swept over him.

Back onto the highway, Jacob tried to focus on the drive and the familiar scenery as it sprung up on each shoulder the further north he drove. "God, some places just stay stuck in time." He said aloud to the empty car. Each familiar shabby building he passed was a reminder of his carefree days, and he tried not to let those memories sour while in his present state of depression. His thoughts often drifted to Margrit, or Megs as he always called her. He wondered about where her life had taken her, and on low days he cursed himself for letting her slip through his fingers. What a life he could have had, and someone in the car with him now to rub his back, someone to ease his pain. On days when the darkness crept in and the pain surges were too much, Megs was the image he clung to, but he'd never admit that to anyone. It was a particular image, one he'd kept tucked away in a rare sober memory of his life back then. A white sundress with tiny pink flowers on it, tan sandals and sun-kissed cheeks. Wisps of sand-coloured hair blowing wildly around her head. Like a halo, he thought. Her smile, her squinting green eyes. Her slender fingers reaching out towards him. That image had pulled him through some of the most painful stomach lurches, even though he felt a little silly for clinging to an image so far in his past.

The clinic where Jacob was heading was still an hour away. He had pulled over three more times to wait for the pains to subside. He gulped ice cold water from a canteen he'd brought which slid down his throat and cooled the sizzle in his stomach. He had put off going to this clinic for too long, and finally his Doctor ordered that either he drove himself or he would arrange for a ride, but either way he would be checking in today. Even as Jacob was packing up his car, he thought about running. Maybe he could go West, live on a buddy's couch and forget this whole thing was happening. He'd gotten good at hiding the illness, and at least then he could give himself one last hurrah if it took him over. He was too scared to ask the Doctor what his prognosis was, but one always knew. The information came from the energy in the room. There was no need for words.

The parking lot at the clinic was close to empty. Jacob found a parking spot near the entrance and looked up to the skyline. By now the sun had tucked behind the building revealing a warm glow about the place, almost as if it were a dream. His eyes narrowed at the edge of the trees where he swore he saw an indigenous elder surrounded in a smoky haze. Worried that the cancer had gone to his brain he shook the image from his head and grabbed his things, and began walking towards the front entrance.

After settling into his sterilized and unfriendly room, Jacob wandered back towards the front desk where a young woman sat typing at her computer. Her wiry brown hair covering most of her downcast face while red rimmed glasses poked through the frizz. He tapped three times on the desk and smiled. "Could I get a gin and tonic and one for my friend with the red glasses?" The woman tried not to smile, but the corners of her mouth were creeping upwards. Jacob exhaled and gave the room a once-over. Typical mint green lobby couches, abstract paintings hanging on white walls, sliding glass doors. He winced, and attempted a conversation again. This time reading her gold nametag on her white blouse before speaking. "So Brenda, is this place always such a blast or are you guys just happy I'm finally here..." His voice trailed off, but he managed to flash his famous wide grin in her direction. She gave a little giggle, and finally her fingers stopped typing and rested on the desk. She gave Jacob a pamphlet with information on the clinic; when mealtimes were and when Doctors and Nurses would be checking in to see him. Jacob could feel another wave of pain starting and tried to discreetly end the conversation. "Cool.cool. Thanks." He began walking towards the exit slowly, planning to head outside into the cool air to practice his grounding technique. He turned back from the doorway across the room. "Brenda?" She nodded. "Am I allowed out or will someone put me in a straight jacket?" She laughed and waved towards the door as if to give permission. He practically fell out the door before the pain began again.

Taking slow steps Jacob tried to make his way to the tree-lined edge of the parking lot where he thought he had seen the elder earlier that day. He stopped as the pain intensified, holding his husky frame up by the trunk of the first maple he spotted. Looking up, his eyes focused on tiny veins on bright green leaves, hundreds of branches and spots of purple evening sky poking through the webbing of it all. The pain receded, but he lingered there, feeling the coolness of the tree, the strength of it's roots below holding him there. The man he'd spotted earlier was up ahead on a bench by the pond. Gathering his thoughts and steadying his breath he made the walk towards him. The man never turned to see him approach but as he got closer, the man spoke. "You're the new guy." He said dryly, and Jacob couldn't understand if it was a question or statement. So instead he responded, "New guy here. And you?" But no name was offered.

"It's your stomach." The elder said, pointing with a bony finger towards Jacob's torso. Followed by, "not good." That irritated Jacob, who had spent years trying to hide his weaknesses. No man wants another man to point out his flaws. "It'll be fine." Jacob said with a shrug and sat beside the man, mainly because standing for too long sometimes caused his legs to collapse on him. He hadn't admitted that to anyone, but wouldn't dare allow someone to witness it here. A long silence fell between them and then finally the man spoke again. "Do you know why you are here?" Jacob nodded, a feeling of comfort came over him and suddenly he just wanted to let it all out. "Things aren't good for me. I know that. I wouldn't be here if there were any hope. So what do I do? Change my life in the last second because I'm scared to die? Tell God I'll do anything to give me another shot? It's too late. I messed it all up. This is where people come to die, and I know that. No offense. I don't need anyone sugar-coating it for me though. I've come to the land of the forgotten. This is it I guess. No family around. No friends. Some life eh?" He was looking down as he spoke, his foot tracing the dirt beneath the bench. The man listened in silence, and after a moment, responded. "What would you have done differently?" He asked.

This was a complicated question. Jacob still didn't fully understand the steps of his life that had brought him to this place. He had a strange upbringing, with an absent father and a mother who liked to be the life of the party herself. At a young age Jacob learned that being loud gave him attention. He partied his way through his life because in the glow of those moments he was the star. He felt loved. But, after the parties, and once his friends started settling down, he had nowhere to turn. The spotlight had vanished, turning to his friend's kids; first as babies, then as kids starting school, then it was all about their sports camps and first jobs and all the milestones. His friends had no time for him. He was on the peripheral of every one of their moments, but he was acutely aware they were not his own. He could leave a room now and nobody noticed. What could he have done differently? He contemplated the question with real depth for the first time ever in his life. He didn't give a quick response. He knew it mattered now more than ever.

"I would've held onto Megs." He said.

The man replied, "And would you have treated her well?"

Another question that prompted some deep thinking. He wanted to say yes, but something inside of him wasn't sure. And maybe that's why he allowed her so easily to slip from his grasp. How could he ever know how to treat someone well when he couldn't even treat himself well? How could he ever have been a good husband, or father, when he had no role model of that growing up? Somewhere along the way he had decided that he didn't deserve those things. Somewhere in his early years he had chosen this destiny. As if reading Jacob's thoughts, the man asked,

"Did you experience love?"

He didn't even have to think about that one.

"Yes." He nodded.

The next question the man asked,

"Did you experience forgiveness?"

That one was harder. He wanted to say yes, but realizing earlier in his venting he had mentioned how he was all alone now, with nobody here with him while he faces this illness. Perhaps he hadn't forgiven those who'd abandoned him. And as he considered which person he should begin with, the man got up slowly, patted his shoulder and walked towards the edge of the trees, almost blending into the dusty backdrop of the evening sky.

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Jacob's pain was increasing, and he was no longer able to get back outside to the pond where he had met the elder. He asked the nurses and Doctors about him, but none of them would answer. They just nodded and said if he improved he could go back out. It was infuriating for Jacob. He didn't want to be stuck inside such a sterilized room full of machines and beeping. He wanted to feel the cool air on his skin, focus on the treeline and he had thought about his answer and wanted to tell the old man that, yes, he had forgiven. He finally felt ready to release that burden he had carried for so long. Jacob's stomach lurched and he began to vomit, some blood coming at the end. The nurse rushed in to swap out the bucket with a new one, and with a wash cloth for his face. He couldn't bear to look at her eyes. He felt so shriveled up, like the shell of a man, missing all the things he actually liked about himself. He wondered if this were another test the elder would have asked him. Was he ready to let go of his vanity? He wasn't.

From Jacob's window he could see the maples in the distance, and noted that they were now a burnt orange and on sunny days, some glowed a vibrant yellow too. Summer slid away while he lay in this bed, and yet he hadn't had any visitors. In the early days of arriving at the hospice, he had well wishes sent by text message or email. Old co-workers mostly and a few high school friends. His parents had been gone for a long time, and he didn't have any siblings. A few times he'd reached for the phone to send a message to Megs, but couldn't do it. He wanted her to know how much he thought of her, how the memory of her smile made his pain go away, how the thought of her voice, even so long ago, gave him a swirling feeling in his stomach. Like the remedy to his pain. But every time he stopped at the thought of how she may be angry that he'd done that. Maybe angry that he'd waited so long, or maybe just creeped out.

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The season shifted again, and on his better days he could sit up and see that snow flakes had gathered on the windowsill, the ground looked grey, matching a grey sky, and his mood mostly too. He lay shivering on his bed, while nurses came and went. One day nearing what Jacob assumed, based on the decorations in the building ,was Christmas, the elder had finally visited.

"Where have you b-"

But it was too much effort to say the whole sentence, so he inhaled, and was about to try again when the elder stopped him.

"It's alright friend, no need to speak."

He patted Jacob's boney knee then sat beside the bed, both hands on his wooden walking stick. His eyes closed and he mouthed some words of prayer silently, then opened them and addressed Jacob.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked calmly.

Jacob's breath was slow, he wanted to talk to the elder though and so he gathered his energy, he nodded.

"I'm sad," He began. "I'm sad that I didn't get the chance to love Megs." A tear slid down his pale cheek.

"But you did love her, you said that." The man's eyebrows raised.

Jacob contemplated that, it was true. "But... I wanted to... express that love."

It took everything he had to form the sentence.

"Ahhh" The elder nodded. "For her sake, or for yours?"

Jacob thought about it again.

"For both."

The man's eyes closed a moment then he asked, "what if I told you she had a good life. She was happy. She was loved."

Jacob tried to form a smile, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"That would...be...good."

"And what if I told you that you would see her again soon, and she could tell you all about it?"

Jacob smiled again, nodding slowly, trying to picture it. The man sat with Jacob as the nurses fluttered about him, lights blinked and sounds beeped, shadows moved around the room as the daylight slid into evening. Jacob held the image of Megs in his mind, of that sunny day on the dock together, his goofy grin and bare feet backing away from her while he laughed, her hand stretched out to his. As his breaths slowed, the image grew stronger, and finally, he was able to see beyond her in the memory, into the deep blue sky and above it to a raven flying high above. Jacob had this desire to join the raven so he could see the view from above too. Up, up, he flew. Higher and higher, circling into the air and looking down below at the two young lovers, until they were only just specs, and then, nothing at all.

It was just past midnight, and Jacob joined the purple clouds in the sky, dancing and free.