Five Seconds

Two Crows on a Journey

Andy

Things were a lot scarier at night. Perhaps an hour passed of lying in the bed of my truck, waiting for sleep to caress my body and wrap me in a safe embrace. It was impossible to keep my eyes closed for more than a minute, regardless of how heavy they felt. Fear enraptured my brain, and whispered terrible ideas into it. I was scared that the next time I opened my eyes my house would be engulfed in flames, or that the truck would be swallowed by a sinkhole, or the sky would fall and encase us in a tomb. Gone forever.

Newt lay at our heads, a warm soft pillow whose snores sang a lullaby.

"When do you think things are going to get better?" I asked, breaking the tension.

"I don't know," Parker said restlessly.

"Maybe, this is all a bad dream. And when we wake up it'll all be over, and our home will still be a home." My voice sounded like two boulders rubbing together.

"I'd still have her," Parker breathed.

"I'd still be alone," I whispered to myself. The realization that this earthquake quenched the loneliness made me shudder.

"Huh?"

"It's funny, you know. In such a busy, over populated world, I was a complete loner. Yet now, in such a broken place, where everyone is losing people, I'm... not alone. And I don't know if I should be happy, or sad, or guilty." I didn't know why I was saying this to him, but the words came out faster than I could stop them.

"Why would you be guilty?"

"If I'm happy that I'm not alone, I'm guilty. If I'm guilty, I'm sad. If I'm sad then I'm not happy, and I just want to be happy again. With all that's happened... I don't know if I'm happy or just numb."

"I think you would know when you're happy," he said in a passive voice, rolling away.

"How? How would I know I'm happy?"

He let out a breath of annoyance. "I don't know. You're happy when, well... I don't know how to explain a feeling," he huffed, rolling back over to face me. "I guess, when you're happy, you feel, like there's nothing wrong. You feel safe, and light—you don't feel weighed down. You just, want to live in that moment, because there's nothing better than that moment when you're happy."

"Are you happy right now?"

"I—"

"Do you feel safe?"

He paused for a moment. "For now I suppose."

"Laying in this truck, it kinda feels like nothing's wrong. We're just two people, camping. Looking at the night sky."

"Yes."

"Do you feel weighed down?"

"There's nothing left to weigh me down," he huffed.

"Are you living in the moment?"

"I suppose so—yes."

"So you're happy?"

He blinked. "No, no, no," he said, exasperated. "Happiness doesn't work like that. I can't be happy after everything today. That's ridiculous."

"But you just explained happiness and you agreed to them all."

He sighed. "Yeah, so. I guess I did. Big deal. I didn't create the rules, I'm not a scientist, or a psychologist, or whatever."

"Well it's good. Because I suppose I'm happy too. I'm happy that you're alive, I'm happy my dog is alive, and I'm happy to be alive and not alone," I said softly. "Maybe sometimes you just have to count your blessings."