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"THE UNKNOWN HAS never been a comfort to me," Jude began, unprompted.
⠀⠀⠀ They'd been trekking around the forest floor in uncomplicated quiet for the better part of twenty minutes now. Jude taking snapshots of a gust of wind billowing a wilting leaf, a scrap of the stratosphere being blurred at edges by the branches of trees as tall as watchtowers. The amber eyes of a hard-bitten redhead gleaming against a fading sun.
⠀⠀⠀"Before I moved to Britain, I thought I knew everything. I thought everything knew me," he said. "In Uzbekistan, everyone was cut from the same cloth as me. We spoke the same language, broke the same bread, shared a number of things like our heritage, beliefs, cultural practices. Y'know, the real things that make up a person; the most important, fundamental parts."
⠀⠀⠀ Darcy listened carefully, as she trotted beside the Uzbekistan boy, with an arm outstretched near the tree line; fingertips tracing each trunk she passed by. The sound of a camera whirring, then flashing intermittently was a ring in the quiet.
⠀⠀⠀ "And I know that just one person cannot be monolithic, cannot represent all things, but it certainly felt like we were. The people I mean," he told her. "All in one, one in all. That's not to say there weren't struggles, there were plenty — just turn on the news and you'll see. But what place doesn't? Besides, the feeling of belonging trumped everything else."
⠀⠀⠀ Distantly, Darcy made out the wings of a bird flapping. "Do you miss it? Home?"
⠀⠀⠀ Jude titled his head, gazing at her sidelong for a moment as they strolled on. Feeling his gaze on her, she met his eyes and wrinkled her nose at him. He chuckled before snapping another picture of her, momentarily blinding her. She took a moment before shoving him, with her little fists, in the shoulder. "Ouch," he said, a ghost of a smile still playing on his lips. "And no, to answer your question. Home is where the heart is. My mother took mine with her during her trip six feet under."
⠀⠀⠀ A quick breath. "That's dark, mate."
⠀⠀⠀ With sharp, brown eyes that looked near-night in the light, Jude said, "Is it? I thought it poetic."
⠀⠀⠀ "Tell me about her," she said, "your mum."
⠀⠀⠀"There's not much to say." Darcy noted that he looked uncomfortable, but was glad that he'd still chosen to share. "She was my onam, and before that a woman who led a passionate life. I don't know much about her childhood, or even her life when becoming a woman — that's a thing I've noticed about you lot, you know who your parents are. It's different for us, life before us was no life at all. She used to say I was the light of her life. Isn't that sad?"
⠀⠀⠀"How do you figure?"
⠀⠀⠀"I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. To shoulder that amount of love."
