Chapter Forty -One – 6 of Cups

It was fascinating to be with someone who wanted to be with me.

That was one of the first emotions that came to mind when I thought of Francis. When we walked together, waited for the bus or we were at one of the Pagan brunches, Francis made room for me. I could see him lowering his walls just as I was lowering mine. It was never a thought that it was possible to love someone so effortlessly. I had never experienced this and it was so new to me. I felt included in his life and everyone I knew already knew Francis. It was a seamless transition from caterpillar to butterfly. The transition was not painful as I had wanted to be free of my cocoon for long.

I was still afraid, though. Francis held my heart in his hands, and it had been a long time since I had trusted another man to hold my heart carefully. I loved him despite that fear. I adored him because I was afraid. A small part of me even feared the love that Francis and I shared together because of everything that had happened in my past. I loved him with an open heart and wanted to hide and be seen by him at the same time. It was like I was walking an internal tight rope, and I had no idea where it would end.

Francis showed me that there was nothing to hide from. When I was with him, I remembered what joy was. I loved him so completely. Lisa and I would talk about it when I wasn’t with him. One night, we were getting ready for sleep. Lisa was lying on her bed smoking a cigarette and I was on my foam roll doing the same thing. From my vantage point on the ground looking up at Lisa’s ceiling, the smoke looked like clouds. I pretended we were on a raft floating along the water, letting ourselves flow towards the future.

“You don’t have to be afraid, you know.”

I perched on an elbow and looked at Lisa. “What do you mean? I’m not afraid.”

“You forget how well I know you.” She gave me a gentle smile. “You don’t have to go back there, Jamieson. I know you hold on to every slight and every slap you’ve ever received. People like you always do. I’m Warrior because I want what I wasn’t given and now I just fucking take it. You’re a Warrior because you love so much. Your heart is in everything you do and say. You walk around offering it to others every time you speak even though you’ve been hurt to the breaking point and still you offer your heart, but at the same time, you’re afraid. Francis isn’t like the other fuckers you dated. He’s not your father. He’s different, Jamieson.”

My nineteen-year-old heart swelled with hope and with love as I pictured Francis in my mind. I was standing with him and my heart swelled even more when I looked at him and took in the shape of his eyes crinkled because his lips were shaped in a smile as he looked at me. I could hear the rush of water again, the waves sending water into the boat. I looked around us and held on tighter to Francis, but I loosened my grip. I didn’t want to hurt him or hang on too tightly. I was afraid that he might turn away from me if I did that.

When I opened my eyes, Lisa had turned her head to look at me. “I keep over analysing everything,” I told her. “My heart, mind and spirit are open to him, they are giving and receiving love, but I am afraid, Lisa. What if I fuck this up?”

“The way that Francis looks at you, I’m sure that’s never going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

“So, it does. You’ll do what you always do, pick yourself up and get on with it, but you need to move on from all the worry. Just because Francis carries a lot of pain doesn’t mean you need to. You can’t love someone with one of your feet stuck in the past, Jamieson. If you love Francis, love him without the fear.”

I thought for a moment about what Lisa had said, looking at the smoke as it swirled above my head. I blew out smoke rings, trying to see if I could join the smoke that came from the burning cigarette with the smoke that came from my mouth. I watched intently for a moment, and the smoke looked like it was in a casual dance, melding and shifting with each other, before rising out of my sight. I noticed something though. When the smoke rings I sent up to the sky joined with the smoke from my cigarette, they each grew stronger, even if only for a moment. The smoke grew thicker and when they separated, they each took a bit from each other before moving onward.

I knew that Lisa was right. I had been afraid for so much of my life before now that fear had become the only thing I knew completely. I carried my fear and the pain that had caused it, and they were my constant companions. No matter where I roamed over the waters, fear had become my anchor, my pain an oar. I knew that I was letting my fear hold me back. I could love someone completely but still be afraid that they would cause me more pain. I didn’t want to find my direction in life because of the pain it had caused me.

“How do I let go of all of that?” I said this more to the smoke than Lisa. I felt the smoke would have a kinder response than she would. The smoke would probably say something mysterious and alluring. Lisa would deliver her advice in her typical bluntness. She was wise, but she did not mince words.

“By choosing to,” Lisa said. “You’re the one that controls your destiny, Jamieson. Where do you want to go? You need to pick your direction and head that way. Sometimes you have to let go of things when you choose a different direction.”

“What if it hurts?”

She let out a snort and a puff of smoke at the same time that made Lisa look like she was some of dragon. “Of course it’s going to hurt, Jamieson. That’s the point of growth. If our journey had no fucking pain, it would not be worth it. You’ve had more than your share of pain. It’s time to let some of it go.”

I closed my eyes and Francis was beside me again. The waters around us calmed and the boat that we rode in stopped rocking back and forth. I reached out to put my arm around him and pulled him close. I felt Francis put his arm around me and I looked forward to see where the waters would take us. I let out a puff of smoke and the water rippled, reflecting the sun as it shone down at us.

I opened my eyes and tried to let a bit of the pain go. It wasn’t much, but it was a start and that had to count for something.

Chapter Nineteen – The Sun

I was at the Mission having lunch when I heard someone call out my brother’s name.

Turning automatically, I saw shock and knowing on the persons face. “Your him, but not him, aren’t you?”

“If you mean my brother, then yes and no.” I took in the sight of this man. He looked quite a few years older than me, mid thirties or so. His eyes were filled with curiosity and openness, which was rare. Almost all the people I had met here had storms in their eyes, having survived some kind of trauma and it left a mark on people. He had clouds in his eyes, but even from where I sat, when the clouds moved, I could see the light within him.

“I see that. You are less of a storm than he was and more of the sun.”

Beside me, Sunshine leaned forward. “My name is Sunshine, so what am I?”

The man blinked at him. “You are radiant, I think.”

“Oh, I like this guy.” Sunshine stage whispered to me.

“How long did you know my brother?”

The man shrugged. His hair was combed, and he had a bushel of a moustache and a thick grey beard. He reminded me of a librarian as he was wearing a cardigan and what looked like glasses hanging from a chain around his neck. “I knew him for some time. He was very kind to me on a few occasions and that’s not something you forget.

I thanked him and Sunshine and I finished our meal. As we were about to leave the table, the man called out to me. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, young man. You need to look for what brings you joy. There is a storm brewing in you and I would hate for it to consume you.”

I shrugged. “I do have joy.” I looked over at Sunshine.

“You need a joy all your own. You can’t always depend on others to be around to keep your light alive.” He tapped my chest gently with the first two fingers of his right hand. “You need to find that joy and carry it in here. That will see you through.”

I thanked him, resisting the urge to give him a hug. I didn’t know if it was okay to hug strangers and I did want to hug him, but I resisted. Maybe he could see me hesitating because he took me in a soft and gentle hug. I let him hug me and I hugged him back. It was the first time that an older man had hugged me, and it brought me so much comfort instead of the fear that my father brought to life. He had never hugged me like this, simply for the sake of a hug. Every time that my father had come close, it had been to hurt, not to heal.

The man smelled of spicy aftershave and tobacco and I breathed that scent in. I’m not sure how long that hug went on for, only that for that moment, all that existed was that embrace. “You are braver than you know. Remember, joy is out there if you are willing to look for it.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

Sunshine and I left the Mission and walked towards the YSB. I lit a cigarette, took a drag and handed it to him.

“That’s pretty amazing.”

“What is?”

“When everyday angels like that show up in your path.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom always used to tell me about ordinary people that come into our paths just for an instant. They are supposed to bring us clarity, show us the road ahead or just help us in a moment of need.”

“Do you really think that’s what that man was? Some kind of angel?”

“Don’t you?” Sunshine said.

I thought about what the man had said. I needed to find my own joy in order to keep my light alive. I thought of the storm that had raged in my brother for as long as I’ve known him. It gave him the monicker of bad son and troublemaker, but I knew that what propelled him was a need to find out where his place was in this world and not being able to find a place for himself.

I was going through the same journey now and had to let go of the fear. I needed to remind myself that I had a lot to be joyful about. I had my street family, I had Sunshine, I had friends. I may not know where I was going, but I could see the road ahead of me more than I had been able to before.

There was joy to be found in that. I pictured a candle inside my chest right next to my heart. Its wick was lit with a small flame, a pinprick of light. It was a spark that had been given life inside of me. I cupped my hands around that small flame to keep it safe. I needed to shine my own light and every light began with a spark.