Pain's Joke
Chapter 17
West of Dorn's Hill was a smaller, unnamed hill. From just the right spot along the side of the road on County Road 30, a clearing between the trees would allow a glimpse of both hills aligned perfectly; the unnamed hill in front, and Dorn's Hill in back, with the peaks centered exactly. The small hill looked like a shorter, shaved version of its densely wooded, massive sister. Most of the western exposure of the smaller hill, including the crest, was taken up by a sheep pasture. Jonas had been to the pasture on a field trip when he was in the third grade, but he had mostly forgotten about it. But as he slept, Jonas was dreaming about that pasture.
He was standing near the bald summit, looking west, over the empty field. Beyond the pasture, he saw a thick row of trees along the road, and beyond the road were more tree-covered hills. It was cold, and the skies were overcast, which dulled the colors of the trees and grass, and gave Jonas the impression that he was in a black and white photo. Jonas squinted into the strong and steady wind, and he watched it roll the low, dark clouds toward him. It seemed to him as if he was watching the scene in fast forward, as an endless stream of churning, gray clouds rushed toward him. He felt .
In the distance, nearly as far as Jonas could see, he spotted a lighter colored patch of clouds come over the horizon. The small patch of clouds began to brighten, and it continued to rush toward him. Soon the clouds parted, and a beam of sunlight shot out. It not only illuminated every leaf on every tree in its path, but Jonas could also see the bold, bright colors of everything it touched, while everything outside the beam's footprint remained dark shades of gray.
When the shaft of light finally reached Jonas, everything stopped. The clouds were motionless, and the wind had gone still. He stood in the center of the circle of light which the beam had cast all around him. Then he closed his eyes and raised his head toward the bright, yellow glow. To Jonas, it felt like an all-encompassing warmth. It felt a lot like when he used to hug his grandmother.
Suddenly, Jonas heard the old man's voice calling his name. He shielded his eyes from the light and looked across the pasture to see Reverend Chambers at the far end, calling to him.
“Jonas! Get up. I'm running late.” shouted Dolores as she tossed open his bedroom door, rousing Jonas from his dream. He groaned and turned over to face the window, and she continued to the bathroom to get a hair brush.
“Jonas, baby, you're gonna have to make yourself a bowl of cereal, hon. I'm leaving. Get up!” She repeated from the hallway while violently brushing her hair back. She hurried into the living room, shoved her feet into her work shoes, and quickly returned to Jonas' room.
She leaned over the bed and kissed him quickly on the back of the head. “Get up, Jonas! Get you something to eat. I'll be home earlier tonight than last night. Promise.”
Knowing that she wouldn't leave until he showed some signs of life, he waved.
“Love you, honey.” she said, and jogged to the living room. With a bow and a swipe, she gathered her purse and smock from the coffee table. She swung the door open and spun around. “Call me if it's an emergency!” she shouted before closing the front door.
Jonas pulled the thin, cotton sheet over his face and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't. He wanted to return to the pasture from his dream. The sunlight felt like warm, soft towels, fresh from the dryer, just like when he helped his mother fold laundry. He opened his eyes and saw only shades of sky blue as the morning sun shined onto the sheet. It was a barely adequate substitute for the sunlight from his dream, but still beautiful nonetheless. He eventually came to terms with having to get up, and he sighed as he pushed the sheet toward his waist and sat up to stretch. He yawned heartily, and when he did, his stomach growled and moaned, which reminded him of what Dolores had said to him before she left.
He shuffled into the kitchen, wearing only his underwear, and one sock. He pulled open the fridge door and removed the milk and sat it on the table. From the cabinet next to the fridge, he pulled out a box of corn flakes and sat it on the table next to the milk. With a bowl from the drying rack and spoon from the drawer, his breakfast was ready. He plopped down onto the chair and poured the flakes into the bowl and added milk. As he ate, only the sounds of crunching corn flakes and a clinking spoon could be heard. Clink, slurp, crunch, crunch, crunch, was the rhythm, and it continued until Jonas propped up his tired face with his left hand. That was when he noticed it. Or didn't notice it, rather. The calcified lump of bone which normally protruded from his jawline was gone.
He nearly choked on a mouthful of corn flakes, then spat them into the bowl as he darted from the table to the bathroom mirror. There he saw what his hand first felt: a smooth, normal jawline. He gasped and turned his head left, then right, then back left again to compare the two sides. His heart was pounding, and he didn't know if he was going to cry, or laugh, or both. His first thought was to go tell the old man about the miracle, but his body was a step ahead of him, and he found himself about to run out the front door without wearing any clothes.
“Shoot!” he said between his teeth as he turned around and ran toward the bedroom to hastily throw on some clothes. He returned to the living room in short order and bolted through the doorway to the outside. He hopped onto his bike, pointed it toward the reverend's house, and didn't stop peddling.