OBSIDIAN: Birth to Venus

2121

The next morning, Jai stared at herself in the mirror, marveling at the disconnect between the nightmare she’d had and the perfect visage reflecting back at her. As always, her body betrayed her mind, making everything look perfect while her insides were gutted, raw. She gave thanks, though. It’ll be easier to hide this from Joy. She took a deep breath and went downstairs.

“Jai, love.” Joy beckoned her with the wave of a hand. “Come, sit with me.” Jai walked across the two-story great room to the couch where her mother was. Joy pulled a cashmere throw across her lap.

Jai looked out the window and watched the snow fall. She stoked a fire, then sat on the floor beside the couch. Joy motioned for Jai to come closer, and Jai rested her head across her mother’s lap. The last week, Joy had invited her to relax this way. Today, she stroked Jai’s long brown hair. The sun had lightened it to a golden brown. Jai enjoyed the feel of her mother’s fingers, lacing through her hair, when the nightmare flashed before her eyes. She looked away, her body stiff. Joy frowned. Joy understood her body had aged like any human’s. She was luckier than most, having lived so long without any serious health condition or illness. But, Jai couldn’t ignore the pain. It hurt to see her mother deteriorate and lose the vitality she once had.

“Jai, dear. I know you’re worried.” Joy swept and stroked Jai’s hair, from root to tip, twisting her fingers along the soft curls that had formed at the ends. Joy pictured how Jai’s hair had curled that way, so beautifully, since she was a baby. “But, growing old is natural,” Joy said. “Natural for me.”

Jai lay silently, staring into the fire. For her, growing old was unnatural. She understood, intellectually, that Joy was human, no matter how young Joy was in mind. They were connected, tethered to each other, humming in sync. But, no matter how much Jai wished to suspend time, to prolong Joy’s life, her mother’s wave was waning. Jai was acutely aware of it when they synced, and Joy made no effort to hide that she knew. It was Joy’s way of letting Jai know she understood the state of things, like a private note understood by only the closest of friends. That was what Joy had become, not only the one who had given Jai life, but the mentor, teacher, confidante…the best friend Jai had ever had. No one else had supported her as much as Joy. And, no one ever could. Joy was the last of Jai’s family. When she’s gone, I’ll be alone in this world. Jai couldn’t help but think it. Jai tried not to think of herself. It’s not about me, she chided. It’s the desperation in me, she realized, the anxiety, the fear I’m feeling, truly feeling for the first time. Fear drove Jai to those thoughts.

Deeper still, it was shame. Shame that she couldn’t share her gift, her blood, with others. Darin had died decades ago, when the world didn’t know what sentients were. Many times, she’d wondered if her blood was compatible with his. His illness was rare. She was a teen at the time. But, why didn’t I do more? Couldn’t I have found another way to help him somehow? She found ways to blame herself for not saving him or her father. Time and again, she looked at Joy, believing, I could’ve saved us the heartache…could’ve prevented their passing. For years she’d tried to hide the shame from her mother, but Joy didn’t need to sync to see it. It was clear in the quiet moments. Recently, Joy had caught her, standing with Sean and the rest of the group, crowded by friends, the only one not laughing. It was hard to laugh, though. Jai knew Joy’s passing was near.

And, like a fortune one didn’t want to be told, Joy could look at Jai and see her own impending death. Of course it frightened Joy, to recognize the inescapable truth of it, but death was universal to humans. The more they sparred, the more Joy knew with greater accuracy how much time she had left. She tried to make light of it, calling Jai “my thermometer,” a joke in which Jai found no humor. Eventually, Jai began making excuses, not wanting to lift the veil, to keep the countdown hidden. But, Joy insisted that they continue Jai’s training.

“Your training’s more important now than ever, Jai. Just look at our world. Since that sentient murdered a human, humans are demanding that sentients disclose themselves, like you all belong on some predator list. It’s like slapping a ‘neighborhood watch’ sticker on a lynch mob. It’s only a matter of time before they take matters into their own hands and find a way to hack into the list of so-called ‘anonymous’ testers.” Joy was right. Jai was lucky she hadn’t been tested. Sentients were in danger, and there was no way Joy would let Jai skip her training. They’d trained day in and day out, no matter how painful syncing might’ve been…for either of them.

Soon, Jai realized that the more they synced, the more Joy allowed Jai these moments, to be with her and look away, a place to be together, yet apart. The fire flickered in Jai’s tear-filled eyes, as Joy continued to stroke her hair. “Jai, it’s normal to feel what you’re feeling. I understand. Just remember: it’s not your responsibility to save me. We know I’m human. This life, my life, is like any other human’s.”

A minute passed before Joy broke the silence. “Please forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” Jai began to sit up, but Joy patted her head down.

“I know I’ve hurt you by refusing your help. I know you’ve worked hard to find a scientist who can try to treat me with your blood. I appreciate that, I do. But, it’s not what I want.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Mom. I respect you and your choices.” Jai said it with conviction, reminding her mother as much as herself. Honoring Joy’s wish was the hardest thing Jai had ever done.

“Yes, yes, I know. But, more than respecting my decision, you need to make peace with it…in your own heart. Don’t burden yourself with worry. Don’t harm yourself with what-ifs, or question if you could’ve made a difference. A difference is only a small blip in time, when it comes to a human life. And, I’ve already lived a long and joyous one. I must go eventually, and I choose to go naturally. Let it be by my own terms.”

Joy paused for a deep breath. “I won’t lie to you, Jai. My body is weak now, weaker than it’s been before. I can feel and sense it. Just know that I’m fine with that. Trust that this is what I want. I know you question if I’m being honest with you; I am.” Jai had always worried Joy was holding back, pretending she didn’t want Jai’s blood, just to protect Jai’s identity. It seemed both were true. Joy didn’t want to jeopardize Jai’s safety, or fight for more time.

Suddenly, Joy stopped caressing her head and straightened her body. Jai steeled herself before turning to face her. “Jai.” Joy’s voice was a calm, soothing balm. She took Jai’s face in her hands and smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes. “Promise me one thing,” she said. Jai held her breath. She tried to avert her gaze, but Joy took her by the chin, redirecting her, square in the face. “Promise me: you will let yourself feel.”

“What do you mean?” Jai laughed, uneasily.

“You know what I’m talking about, Jai. I’ve noticed how you’ve distanced yourself from your friends, even from Sean.” She paused, searching Jai’s eyes for some sign of recognition. “I know it’s been hard, to leave so many human friends in the past, to have so many grow old or fall ill and die. I know it’s been hard on you, to make connections when the life you’ve lived just shows that others will leave you first. It’s hard to be the one left behind. I’ve lost friends too, but not on the scale you’ll have to. I do not and would not pretend to know what that will truly feel like. Only you and sentients like you will know what that experience will bring. Just take care not to harden yourself.”

Joy looked at Jai, adoringly. “You know, since you were a child, I thought you were sensitive, in the very best way. And, as you’ve grown, I’ve realized you are much more sensitive than most. In fact, it’s your sensitivity to others that’s made you more compassionate, made you attuned to others in a way most people will never become, sentient or not, even with practice. But, sometimes life can wear on a person. And, since the world’s discovered your kind, the world’s become a very different, frightful place. We’re lucky to have friends and resources, to shield and protect ourselves from it. All I ask is that you resist the urge to go too far. I know life can be painful sometimes, but don’t hide from your emotions, Jai. Let yourself experience life. Feel everything, whether you’re happy or sad, joyous or depressed. It’s what makes you like me. It’s what’s connected us all these years.”

Joy confessed, “I fear you’ll let that part of yourself go, especially once I’m gone. Please, don’t. Even if you’re in pain, go to Sean, find a friend, find many friends, who will hold your hand and help carry you. Life is for living. Rejoice in your life! Pushing others away will only leave you disconnected and alone. I’m not talking about just having people around. You have many people around you, many friends. You always have. I’m talking about letting people in. Let others see you, the real you.

“Don’t trade the uncertainty that vulnerability brings for the certainty that disconnection offers. Develop true connections. Belonging will always be uncertain, and their rewards more beautiful. Be brave, Jai. Don’t just feel. Feel deeply. It’s the only reason to live.”

It was a shock to hear her mother say it out loud. The last decade, Jai had felt a numbness trickle in, but she didn’t think her mother had noticed. Naming it left Jai exposed. She was naked. Tears ran down her face, as she looked into Joy’s deep, brown eyes. “I love you, Mom. I promise I’ll try.”

“I love you too,” Joy said, smiling. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “You’re strong. You’re my daughter, and you always will be.” And, with a bow of the head, Joy touched her forehead to Jai’s, syncing their minds, for the very last time.