Jack Emerson by Michael Brent Jones


  Chapter 10

  ¶

  I felt very comfortable, and casual in the sense that I knew I would get the answer to the puzzle. We would play a game or two of chess, and he would tell me a story… and maybe some other random things as well.

  There wasn’t any tortuous wait before he told me the answer to the puzzle.

  “To find the right bag, you label each bag one through ten, and then take one coin from the first, two from the second bag, three from the third and so on. If the fifty-five coins weigh 55.04 ounces, then you should pick bag four.

  ¶

  Like routine, I asked for another story. “So what has Jacky been up to?”

  “Wasn’t she still in the pit?”

  “No, she wrote her way out,” I replied.

  “Oh yes, she was the one writing.”

  “I tried that by the way, writing my way out of a pit,” I told Jack.

  “And how did that work for you?”

  “I don’t know yet. It was a lot more stressful, and also oddly fun at the same time than I imagined possible, but I think it was good.”

  “Why do you think it was good?”

  “I don’t know, it was just good.”

  “I think you won’t know until a rainy day, whether it was good or not.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The point in writing is that you always move forward. You write your way out of a problem and into a dream. First you leave habits and thoughts that hold you back, and then you grab ahold of things that will help you move onward and upward. So what do you think she left in the pit?” He asked.

  I had to think for a few minutes, which wasn’t awkward, because after he asked, he got up and made us tea, giving me time to think.

  Once he came and sat back down, I gave him my answer, “I think the biggest thing Jacky left in the pit was despair.”

  “That is a good answer.”

  “What is the answer?”

  “I don’t know, I just thought of the question so I asked you.”

  “I feel like you still somehow already had an answer.”

  “No, I do have a question for your answer though.”

  “What?”

  “What about despair did she leave?”

  “She didn’t let it cripple her… and although she gave into it, she didn’t become content with it.”

  “Now that’s an answer!”

  I blushed. I really think I am thinking a lot deeper hanging out with Jack.

  “Thanks. What else would you add? I know you always have more things you see,” I prodded.

  It kind of surprised me that he didn’t just spit out an answer. He sat back in his armchair and looked contemplative. I didn’t know whether he had a lot on his mind or whether he didn’t have an answer ready like he always seemed to before. That actually quite impressed me, because he didn’t feel obligated to keep up his image of always having an answer ready for anything.

  “Well, how about instead, I tell you what she wrote about after she wrote her way out of the pit.”

  “Of course I would love to hear what Jacky writes next.”

  ¶

  “I rubbed my eyes as I started to awake from the deepest sleep I can remember. The soreness I felt all over surprisingly wasn’t at the forefront of my mind; it was that I still couldn’t see!

  Was it still night? Where had the stars gone? And how long had I been asleep for?

  There was a breeze, the darkness felt as thick as mist. My stomach panged with hunger. Weary of falling back in the pit I took a few handfuls of grass and ate them. Not being particularly fond of salad before, grass was definitely not the best option. But, anything was better than nothing… or was it?

  The burning pang in my stomach turned to nauseating rheumatism, and it only increased the craving for water.

  I listened in hope of hearing running water, but I didn’t hear even the faintest suggestion of water. Crawling on my stomach I found the edge of the pit, and then crawled the opposite way away from it.

  Where were the stars that were there the night before? I must have slept a whole day, or who knows maybe two.

  I felt a distinct sort of exhaustiveness, the type when you can’t see in front of you, especially when you can’t see far enough to walk or even crawl on your hands and knees for fear of falling.

  The looming fear of the pit, and possibly others like it didn’t help my nerves.

  I reduced to moving on my stomach, the pace was much slower, and my whole body could feel the ground. This only made me more aware of whether the ground felt like it was giving way or not. The fear of what dangers could lay in front of me was real, but the fear of the ground collapsing underneath me and falling into another pit was utterly terrifying.

  I had to stop for a few more mouth-fulls of grass. It still didn’t go down any better than the last time. It was probably after the fifth stop for grass or so that I felt the ground beneath me change.

  It was sand. Not wet sand, but dry, sharp dessert sand. A whole new set of fears bombarded my mind; prickly cactuses, snakes and scorpions, and oh not to mention I was already more thirsty than I ever could have imagined possible.

  There isn’t a speed slow enough to feel out the danger of a cactus without pricking yourself.

  Unlike the tiny spines on the cactuses my mother had in her kitchen window, the spines on this cactus were massive. More than the pain I felt as the spine sank right through my skin to the bone is the eerie, repulsive feeling of being violated.

  Along with the terror of the darkness, I more fully realized the terror of what I couldn’t run away from.Was I going to be infected? They say dirt and plants house the most bacteria, and I have now cut myself in the midst of both.

  Doesn’t matter, whatever happens, I still will just have to figure out a way to survive.

  First impressions are important, but I wasn’t going to let this prickly introduction keep me from getting water out of it.

  I dug my hand into the sand and came up the body of the cactus, and felt for the spines coming at them from the side. I grabbed a hold and broke off the first one I grabbed a hold of. I made a sort of sand basin where I started to collect the spines. It was quite the tedious job.

  It was a while before I cleared a big enough spot in the cactus, but I did, it was only after a few more pricks.

  With a sharp rock I burrowed into the side of the cactus. Reaching in with my hand, it wasn’t what I was suspecting. Maybe it is the cartoon watching kid inside of me, that figured water would start pouring out like a water fountain, but it didn’t.

  What I felt was a rougher sort of watermelon, and tasting it, it also lacked the pleasant savor of melon. At any measure, it did hold a lot of water in it, and it was thirst quenching. Despite the bitter taste, it did somewhat fill me up as well.

  All I could think about was sleeping after I had had my fill of the cactus. I dreaded sleeping through the day and having to wander through the night again in the dark.

  It wasn’t terribly cold, and I convinced myself that at whatever time I awoke, I would at least have food and water.

  Well, if the snakes and scorpions don’t get me in the night, here I will be in the morning.”

  ¶

  When Jack stopped speaking I wanted to clap, but I wanted her to end up out of the dessert.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

  “Why didn’t she get out of the dessert like she had gotten out of the pit?”

  “She found water and food.”

  “Yes, but she’s still in the dessert.”

  “Have you ever slept on the grass or sand before?”

  “No…”

  “Well I’ll tell you I much prefer sleeping in sand.”

  “Well maybe, but why was it completely dark?”

  “I don’t know, what could make it completely dark?”

  “What? You’re telling me you don’t know why it was dar
k?”

  “I don’t know, maybe she’s above the stars.”

  “What?” I questioned.

  “Sometimes there will be light from stars we can follow, and other times we will have to blaze our own trail forward in the dark, or make our own light.”

  “But how could she make her own light in the dessert?”

  “I guess you will have to wait until next time to find out.”

  “Wait, how was there a dessert at the top of a mountain, and how could she be lower than the stars while by the pit, and above the stars while in the dessert?”

  “How Do you know the dessert was at the top of the mountains?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if two planets traveling almost perfectly parallel, collided? Then, in that state of the two conjoined worlds, she moved to the next one.”

  “I know you are just making this story up, but now it seems science fiction.”

  “I don’t see why it can’t be, but don’t be expecting spaceships or aliens- this story is about writing out of a problem.”

  “And right into the next problem apparently. She should have stayed at the top of the mountain by the pit.”

  “Is life better below the stars?”

  “It doesn’t seem better above it.”

  “I guess we’ll have to see. You ready for a puzzle?”

  “Alright let’s hear it.”

  “More than hear it, you will probably want to draw it out.”

  I rolled my eyes and Jack chuckled.

  “There are five circles overlapping in a straight line so that there are nine defined spaces. In each of the defined spaces you can place a number one through ten, the sum of each circle must be the same, and each number can only be used once.”

  “We’ll see what I can manage.”

  “This one will test you.”

  “As if the others didn’t?”

  Jack chuckled again.

  ¶

 
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