Nerves' End

The pain throbbed in his toe but he hardly noticed it through his racing mind. This had never happened to him before. It had happened to Joe across the street, to that braggart Carl, and even twice to Janet, who was unlucky enough to get parking tickets everyday, even on Sundays. But now it was his turn. Now there was a portal in his home and Chris didn’t know what to do.

He looked down at the doorframe he had stubbed his toe on and gave it a good kick of annoyance. Bad idea. The pain doubled. He limped away in defeat.

What do people usually do when they get a portal? He knew what they offer, of course. Everyone does: entrance to Paradise, the place that everyone dreamed of being visiting. Forget the Caribbean. Screw Heaven. Paradise was the real deal. He had only heard rumors and stories. At times he had even considered the theory that he was the center of some great conspiracy, a joke that he found himself at the butt end of. But no, it was real. And there was a portal to it right there in his bathroom.

Chris ran his fingers through his prematurely balding hair. He began pacing around the living room trying to focus amidst his racing mind.

What should I wear? Am I ready? What should I bring? Did I forget to brush my teeth this morning? What about deodorant? What does one even wear to Paradise? Is it a business casual type of deal? What if I’m not ready? What if it sucks?

The last thought made him stop mid-pace, aching toe inches away from the doorframe. What if it sucks? He had dreamt all his life of visiting Paradise, he had never thought about what it would actually be like to be there. How stupid. He had made this mistake before. And he had suffered for it.

He had dreamed all through university of being with Becky LaBlanche. She wasn’t the prettiest girl by typical standards, but she most certainly was to him. Every time he looked at her round face with those freckled, flushed cheeks, his heart fluttered to his throat and he choked out an excuse to run away.

Finally, one night at a house party, when he had the courage of several beers to egg him on, he managed a full conversation with her. He was a Picasso with words. No, a Monet. And she was an awestruck museum patron. Jokes flowed from his mouth and her’s never stopped smiling and laughing. Next thing he knew, that magical mouth of his was on hers and they were in her bed for the night.

They dated for several months, the first couple a romantic daze of kisses and holding hands. However, as the rosy veneer wore off, his dream turned into emotional water torture. Little things began irking them with the harshness of personal insults. Arguments happened when apologies should have. Harsh words were exchanged too easily. His self-confidence was down at his shoelaces. By the time they broke up, it took him a month of crying himself to sleep every night to get over her. His dream had wrecked him.

He briskly turned away from that memory and bumped his elbow on the doorframe.

“Fuck!”

He couldn’t tell if that was more for the now aching elbow or for the lingering unpleasantness of memory. He ran up the stairs to his bedroom three at a time, the wood of the antique staircase squeaking beneath each step.

He looked in his full length mirror. All he saw was a thirtysomething with a gut held at bay by occasional gym trips. Khakis and a green polo were definitely not the kind of attire you wear into Paradise. He rifled through his closet and found a slim fit pair of beige slacks and a tasteful powder blue button down shirt that he threw on. He hastily christened it with a spritz of cologne.

By this point, his heart was beating loud enough in his ears that he didn’t hear the voice.

“Chris…”

He was shuffling to the bathroom now to try and tidy the hair he had fretted into a mess. He ran his hands through it and grabbed his comb.

“Chris…”

The water from his comb was dripping down his face and he hastily toweled it away. He barely had returned to his thoughts when –

“Chris…”

He stopped in his tracks.

“Chris, relax. Come here.”

He tip toed to the top of the stairs and waited.

“Come here. Relax.”

He leaped down the stairs, across the living room and pinned himself against the wall. Peeking around the bathroom door frame, he eyed the portal glimmering in front of the sink.

“Don’t worry. You have nothing to fix.”

“M-me? You’re talking to me?” That was stupid, who else was here? “Who are you?”

“You don’t need to ask. You know me.”

“Are you – are you God?”

“No, I am not God. You know who I am,” the voice said smilingly.

He scratched his neck and scrunched his eyebrows. “You – I know you?”

“Yes. You’ve known me your whole life. Sometimes better than others, but we’ve always been there for each other. We grew up together; I was there for you after your mother’s death.”

“I – I’m sorry, I don’t know…” his voice drifted off in anxious thought.

 “Why are you so nervous? You’ve wanted this whole life.”

“Why am I nervous?” The words came out a bit more forcefully than he intended. Nerves always got him worked up. “I don – I don’t know. I guess I just don’t know what to expect.”

“Of course you don’t. That’s life. No one does. That’s something everyone is afraid of: the Unknown. But this isn’t the Unknown. This is Paradise.”

“Yeah, but, what if I mess it up?”

“You’re thinking of Becky, aren’t you?”

Chris nodded then realized the voice might not be able to see him. “Yes…” he muttered.

“That wasn’t your fault. That just was. Everyone loses love. That’s life, there’s nothing you can do about that.”

“I know, but – ”

“You know a portal only appears to those who are ready. What are you afraid of? You’re ready.”

“I don’t know, I’m just afraid!” Now he had angry tears in his eyes. He hated when he let himself get emotional like this. He tried to stifle it.

“Chris, really think about why a portal appeared to you. Why do you think you’re ready?”

“I don’t know. Because I got lucky?”

The voice laughed. It sounded like the lowest chord being played on a golden harp. It rang off the tile walls of the bathroom in front of him and embraced him in the doorway like a warm blanket.

“No, luck has nothing to do with it. You’re ready because of who you are. Because of who you’ve always been. Instead of focusing on the negative, remember the good parts.”

Chris closed his eyes and sifted through his memories. What was he supposed to think of? Inevitably, he landed on that heart-wrenching breakup with Becky. He always came back to that. But instead of getting mired in the self-pity and sorrow, this time he instead found himself in the light of an entirely new side of the memory.

The weight of the box in his arms was nothing compared to the crushing blow his mom’s words was having on him. He was just grateful Chris was there to help. Even after that devastating breakup Chris had had last week, he still showed up as soon as he heard what happened. Jason put the box in the trunk of Chris’ car and turned around. Chris stood there with tears in his eyes and a comforting look on his face. No words could be exchanged between them. What do you say after your mom calls you a disgrace? What words can take away the fact that your mom never wants to see you again? Chris reached out, grabbed Jason’s shoulder, and pulled him in for a hug.

Watching the memory now, Chris felt something he had never managed to feel in that moment before. He felt a darkness of despair in his friend lighten from a pitch black to a dull gray. He felt that hopelessness and ache of sorrow start to fade away. He felt his friend’s body soften into his as he dissolved into tears. And Chris knew then that that moment had been a linchpin upon which his friend had built his future. A future in the Peace Corps helping around the world. A future teaching at inner-city schools and changing kids’ lives. A future with a happy marriage to a man who finally appreciated him. A future cut too short by a stage-4 cancer diagnosis.

“You – you’re Jason, aren’t you?” The realization spread through Chris’ body with a tingling sensation.

“Yes.” Chris could hear the beaming smile in Jason’s voice.

“Come. You are ready. We need you. There is so much good about you that you don’t realize. You have given so much to the world and expected nothing back in return.”

“I don’t know…I mean, all I’ve done is live my life. There’s nothing extraordinary about that.”

“Of course you would say that. Trust me, this place deserves a person like you.”

Chris let go of the bathroom door frame and stepped onto the tile floor. He took a deep breath and clenched his fist. With one more step, he would be in Paradise. He would realize his dream. He lifted his foot off the tile and took a step forward.