The Trip Home

The trip home

Written by: Darling Jackson

The flames flickered and crackled, swallowing the darkness attempting to envelope it.

 Embers floated and swirled off of the fire like small sprites. 

The heat wrapped me in a heavy cloak, chasing away any lingering heaviness from the day.

The wind howled, making the flames dance and swirl towards the west; almost like the flames were reaching for home, just like me.

The flames represented my soul in a way; the way the flames reach but are rooted to wherever I go, like the way my heart reaches for home but logic and amica mia kept me rooted.

That thought reminded me of him and I glanced upwards towards him and saw him gazing at me with a look I knew too well but at the same time not well enough.

 A smile tugged at my lips and I reached out and brushed the back of his hand with my long, delicate fingers.

Such a juxtaposition to his calloused and big hands, while my hands were dainty and airy.

My fingers softly grazed over his hand.

“Amica mia?”

“Yes, mon amour?” he responded, his voice and subtle accent striking something deep inside of me.

A moment passed of me carefully leaning my head against his shoulder. One of the horses nickered softly, earning a soft chuckle from Antoine.

“How long until we reach corbeau?”

He grasped my hand, stopping me from continuing to stroke his hand. He gave my hand one gentle squeeze before releasing my hand. His own special way of saying I love you.

A small moth landed on our open topped tent, flapping its wings a few times.

The woods were so dark at night. When I started traveling with Antoine I would get scared of the darkness in between the trees and Antoine would lay close to me in the tent and reassure me.

The darkness doesn't scare me anymore, in fact I find the woods even more beautiful knowing its animals sleep at night alongside me, and knowing more about the wondrous animals that stayed awake at night and co-existed beside me.

“Only two more days mon amour.”

The way his voice softly drifted to me made my heart ache for him.

 My head was pounding in hope and excitement to get to Corbeau and finally have a true home with Antoine, finally have my own home with no one to dictate what I was allowed to feel or think or do.

As much as my heart reached for home like the flames I was ready for a new home. A home where I was allowed to love Antoine without being shunned.

That was of course why I had left my beautiful village that I called home. 

When I met Antoine he was a mere traveler from the west continent which is why my involvement with a westerner got me shunned. For some reason my people had always hated westerners and westerners had always hated us. Which is why me and Antoine thought it was better to head north.

So we took a boat from the east continent to the north continent and traveled upward towards Corbeau, the city of lights and love.

We packed our heaviest clothes, and only at that what the horses could carry and set onwards north.

It had been getting steadily colder as we moved. 

Antoine had guided us through days of riding through beautiful mountains and forests and I could not love and appreciate him more for what he’s done for us.

I stared at the fire for a while, simply feeling Antoine’s energy and love and letting him caress my hand until I drifted to sleep, my head still resting on his shoulder.

When I awoke nestled in Antoine’s arms the sun was shining through the trees, casting a wonderful green/yellow light on the mossy forest floor. My watch read exactly seven o’clock.

I gently rubbed Antoine’s arm.

“We should get up soon amica mia,”

“Just a few more minutes mon amour,”

“Okay, okay just a few more minutes,”

I chuckled, it was routine to have this conversation every morning. It was clear that he would lead us to our home and I would wake him and feed us as long as he supplied the animals. We worked like gears, we supported each other. A smile played along my lips.

“Its been a few minutes amica mia?”

“Okay, okay mon amour.”

It took two days more until we reached the checkmark marking the official entrance to Corbeau. The city of life and love.

A wondrous smile played over Antoine’s lips.

“Are you ready to go home Julliete, mon bel amour?”

“I’m ready Antoine, meus pulcher amour.”

And with that me and Antoine rode our horses into the bustling streets of Corbeau.

People bustled around us with carriages trancing through the streets. Vendors were set up everywhere on the streets, selling things from jewelry to street food.

 All of which we could pay for if we were so pleased because of the money both of us had been saving and working for the year leading up to our departure from the east.

Of course we were making sure we had every penny for the house we had been guaranteed before we went around spending.

The seller had promised us the house if we could meet on this day and pay in full. We had cut it close, arriving the day of the payment but we had all the money to pay upfront. 

I could feel Antoine’s eyes on me as I surveyed the beautiful buildings and bright colors surrounding us with a smile displayed across my features.

We rode through the bustling streets, joyous people and bright buildings until we reached the countryside of Corbeau. We rode through a few country homes with expenses of land until we reached a modest baby yellow painted country house with an orchard in the back filled with bright red apples, yellow lemons and pint cherry blossoms. We rode to the front and a small old man sat on the porch, a glass of water in his hand. He reached his arm over his head and waved.

“Are you Antoine and Julliete?” he asked in a gentle soft voice.

“Yes we are. Nice to meet you sir.”  Antoine responded with his deep booming voice.

“Are you ready to pay upfront?” The man asked as we dismounted our horses.

Antoine walked up to the old man, up the stairs to the front porch with his arm sling around my waist and a broad smile on his face. He stopped in front of the man and pulled me into his side.

           “Me and my wife are ready to pay upfront sir.”

He threw a sack at the man’s feet with a clunk.

Wife? Wife?!

He called me his wife. Does that mean Antoine is my husband?!

Antoine got down on one knee of the white painted porch. Sun streaming off his thick brown hair and blue eyes. The eyes that our children would have.

“Juliette, Mon amour. Will you marry me?”

I flung my arms around his shoulders.

          “Yes, yes, yes Antoine!”

          “I’ll leave you two to your new house.” 

The seller said and left us. Antoine wrapped his hands around my waist and swung me around.

          “Ready, mon amour?”

          “I’m ready, amica mía.”

And with that my husband, my love, amica mia carried me into our home.