What’s the difference between a trip and a journey?" "Narnie, my love, when we get there, you’ll understand.
What do you want from me?" he asks. What I want from every person in my life, I want to tell him. More.
My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die. I counted. It happened on the Jellicoe Road. The prettiest road I’d ever seen, where trees made breezy canopies like a tunnel to Shangri-La. We were going to the ocean, hundreds of miles away, because I wanted to see the ocean and my father said that it was about time the four of us made that journey. I remember asking, 'What’s the difference between a trip and a journey?' and my father said, 'Narnie, my love, when we get there, you’ll understand,' and that was the last thing he ever said.
Someone asked us later, "Didn't you wonder why no one came across you sooner?" Did I wonder? When you see your parents zipped up in black body bags on the Jellicoe Road like they're some kind of garbage, don't you know? Wonder dies.
Hold my hand because I might disappear.
But grief makes a monster out of us sometimes . . . and sometimes you say and do things to the people you love that you can't forgive yourself for.
Maybe memories should be left the way they are.
So, like I asked, what’s with the nightie?” “It smells like what I always think mothers smell like,” I tell him honestly, knowing I don’t have to explain. He nods. “My mum has one just the same and you have no idea how disturbing it is that it’s turning me on.
It's funny how you can forget everything except people loving you. Maybe that's why humans find it so hard getting over love affairs. It's not the pain they're getting over, it's the love.
And life goes on, which seems kind of strange and cruel when you're watching someone die.
My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die.
This is the best night of my life," Raffy says, crying. "Raffy, half our House has burnt down," I say wearily. "We don't have a kitchen." "Why do you always have to be so pessimistic?" she asks. "We can double up in our rooms and have a barbecue every night like the Cadets." Silently I vow to keep Raffy around for the rest of my life.
When it was over, she gathered him in her arms. And told him the terrible irony of her life. That she had wanted to be dead all those years while her brother had been alive. That had been her sin. And this was her penance. Wanting to live when everyone else seemed dead.
When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don't know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don't know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.
He nods. "My mum has one just the same and you have no idea how disturbing it is that it's turning me on.
No," I say, looking up at Griggs. "It's actually because my heart belongs to someone else." And if I could bottle the look on his face, I'd keep it by my bedside for the rest of my life.
What are you so sad about? We're going to know him for the rest of our lives.
Because being part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.
If you weren't driving, I'd kiss you senseless," I tell him. He swerves to the side of the road and stops the car abruptly. "Not driving any more.
I’m frightened that one morning there will not be enough to keep me going.
How can you just forget a person completely until the moment you see his face again?
So why would I want someone to be my everything when one day they might not be around?" Jellicoe Road
A home to come back to every day of their lives. Where they would all belong or long to be. A place on the Jellicoe Road.
I live on the Jellicoe Road. Where trees make canopies over-head and where you can sit at the top of them and see forever.
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