DIGITAL PICTURE STORY OF "JAKE" by Jim Bartlett
JAKE
by Jim
Bartlett
Jake’s
eyes snap open, and he quickly turns to the side. But like his aching heart,
the spot where Max always sat on the couch remains empty. He takes in a long,
deep breath – really more of a sigh – and squeezes his eyes closed, hoping that
by slipping into the darkness of a nap, he will temporarily mask his sorrow.
For fifteen years they were inseparable. Always side by side. The walks on the beach
with the gentle waves calling, the seagulls cawing. All those hikes on the
trail where the trees canopied over like arches, wrapping them in a soft cool
shade on a hot sunny day. Even just a ride to the grocery store for something
Martha may have forgotten, they always went together.
Though
he knows that in some ways he should be thankful for just having their time
together – those moments forever etched in his heart – and that the sickness
took Max quickly rather than dragging out the pain for weeks, maybe even
months, he still feels cheated. That somehow, he is missing years that could
have been.
Unable to sleep, he
looks around the all too empty room, letting his gaze fall upon the leash,
which still hangs from the peg by the door. It seems to wait patiently, ever
ready for that next big adventure. As his eyes well up, he realizes for the
first time how much his grief weighs, how hard it is to even rise with such a
heaviness inside.
It is then he hears a
shuffle from behind and turns to see Martha standing in the doorway, her
shoulder resting against the frame.
“I thought you might be
in here,” she says. She looks down at him for only a moment before her stare
drifts to the couch. “I miss him, too, Jake. More than you’ll ever know.”
There’s a faraway
melancholy tone to her voice, but he knows that her heart, like his, has a hole
too big to fill. His head drops and he gives off another long sigh, which seems
to prompt her to come over and kneel down onto the carpet beside him. She
slides a hand under his chin and lifts it up, then tucks back his long, floppy
ears, such that their teary eyes can meet.
“I guess you do know,
don’t you, Jake.”
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