EDITOR’S NOTE: This quarter, the editors of Prime accepted short fiction submissions or personal essays from the UCLA community. We selected this piece to be illustrated and published.
Submitted by Jacob S. Jarecki
“Mr. Harris!!”
…
“MR. HARRIS!!”
The sound finally bubbled into the forefront of Jason Harris’ mind, catching his attention. After 35 he had always had some trouble hearing, or maybe just listening.
“Right here! Sorry ’bout that, my hearing… Well, ya know…”
Or at least Harris assumed his limo driver was smart enough to put it together.
Then, as he stepped into the limo, he realized how ridiculous he must have looked. Crocs, khaki shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt buttoned a tad too””mdash;aahh, there we go; he buttoned up the second-to-top button. Anyway, clearly not limo material.
But he didn’t usually travel in such a fashion. He would have preferred a cab to take him from the Honolulu airport to his uncle’s, but he wasn’t going to refuse a chance to ride in a limo, and he wasn’t going to compromi””mdash;
“So have you been to Hawaii before?”
The cab driver interrupted Harris’ thoughts. He didn’t mind though, as he figured that he thought too much about everything anyway. The world was so simple, and he knew it, but he couldn’t convince himself to act like it was. The sun was bright out, he was in Hawaii, but how could he function when””mdash;
“Jason, you all right?”
Heh, Harris laughed to himself, there I go again…
“Yah, I am fine, and I actually have been to Hawaii before, but not for scuba diving…”
Harris felt salt welling in the corner of his eyes…
“Or for my mom’s funeral.”
***
“And Jason, you ain’t so little anymore, are you?
“Practically a strong man like myself!”
Harris hadn’t seen his uncle since the man had moved to Hawaii five years ago. An awesome feat, he noted, as he threw himself awkwardly into a bear hug. He assured himself he would be rich enough to afford a house up here when he was even younger than his 42-year-old uncle. He had like what, 25 years to beat him?
“And Margaret, you look as beautiful as ever! But where’s the old hitch, out on some business trip?”
Harris’ uncle was right about both. His mom was stunning, all it took was her smile””mdash;and his dad was on business in Beijing for the next month or so. So why not have a little mother-son vacation on the spring break of senior year of high school!
“Sorry the weather isn’t more welcoming for Hawaii neophytes.”
His uncle must have been referring to the light warm rain. It was practically nothing, Harris thought, compared to the Midwest storms he was used to.
“Who’s hungry, I made you guys some Spam an’ eggs, locals’ favorite breakfast! Cures jet lag and terminal food indigestion!”
His bowels grumbled at the promise of food.
The knots in Harris’ stomach knotted themselves deeper and deeper into a torrent of discomfort.
Tears escaped from his eyes. Why would she””mdash;didn’t she? But he””mdash;
His brain couldn’t process what was going on. She left him because he liked her too much, because he was too serious?!
That kind of made sense, but it wouldn’t help him get over the fact that he loved her. Of course he was serious, how couldn’t he be. It was impossible.
Why was life so complicated””mdash;what the hell?!
He slammed his hand against the brick outside the school library.
It hurt his hand, and it felt good. He was going to throw his other fist into the wall when he felt something trickle down his back.
It was rain, cold and steady.
That and the pain made him smile a little, rain for the kid’s first breakup huh? Ooohhhh, the irony. Maybe the world did make some sick sense after all.
Nevertheless, he didn’t much care right now! He threw another fist.
OWWW! That really hurt! Harris had just tripped on his shoelaces in the middle of the gravel field.
He wanted to cry and hug his parents, but he had a point to make.
“I doon WANNA go home!”
He kicked his shoe into the dirt in a fit of passion. It hurt his toe, which scraped the gravel, but again he ignored the pain.
“Son, it’s freezing and pouring out here, we will all be sick with colds for the rest of the week!”
His dad’s points were logical and simple. How could he turn things around like that? It couldn’t be that simple. It wasn’t!
This was Harris’ first trip to the carnival; he was at least going to get a churro, even if it meant eating it in the cold and the rain and getting sick. He ran off toward the smell.
***
He sniffed the flower and with a flourish, put its stem into his mouth. After which 3-foot-4 Harris waddled to the diving board and took a dive””mdash;well, a flop””mdash;into the pool.
It was pretty cold, but outdoor pools in Michigan were going to be, pretty much all year round.
Wait, how do I know that? Never mind, the water felt good, time to come up for””mdash;
***
Harris wasn’t in a pool, he was in a bathtub, and he had shrunk, and was aware of it. And the water tasted funn””mdash; he saw his mom’s face, more beautiful than ever before! She beamed at him.
***
Then his dad was beaming at him, holding his mom’s hand. And Harris couldn’t breathe.
***
Harris’ leg was underneath a large rock.
Why is my leg like that, thought Harris? It certainly isn’t comfortable. I should fix that as soon””mdash;
OWW!
He shut his eyes.
Then opened them.
His eyes stung and all was blurry.
What in the world, he rubbed his arms together and felt a strange fabr””mdash;
He was wearing a wetsuit.
Ahhh.
Oh.
It all came back to Harris now. It was his first time scuba diving. And he was in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of a small bay in Honolulu.
That was when Harris realized he was drowning.
Things were happening fast. Through the bubbles, why were there bubble””mdash; His tank had a leak, and the compressed air was escapin””mdash; No, it was empty now, the bubbles gone. He yanked at his leg; pain, but no give.
He had to breathe, but he knew he couldn’t. Harris yanked again to no avail.
He breathed. And he was drinking soda for the first time; no, it didn’t taste like soda, it was saltwater.
He pulled at his leg again, and with a grin, he slid on his shoes. Realizing he didn’t have to tie them every time if he kept them loose eno””mdash;
I am dying! I am dead! No, dying… He took another gulp. No Sprite, just saltwater this time. He gagged and struggled. Not now, no!
I won’t even get to say goodbye to my mom! That’s not fucking fair! Life deserves to give me at least that much! The water got saltier as he teared at the thought. MOM! Dad!
DAD! Oh crap, he can’t take it, me and mom dying! Ah, but it would be convenient for some of his no-good relatives, get two funerals done in one trip those””mdash;
And then the saltwater was soda. The carbonation filled his lungs with breath. He felt himself rise, he saw his mom, looking more beautiful than he ever could have imagined.
Jason Harris ceased to exist as we know it from that moment on. Two funerals were held that week.
A smile and a thought were extinguished. No smile quite the same. No thought quite as unique. Two lights in the world… gone. Irreplaceable. Is it fair? No. But it happened.
It?
What really does happen when the lights go out?
And is it possible to turn them on again?
I sure hope so.