Orphans

29

29 Thunk. Huh? There is grinding, metal on metal, and mashing, on my head and in the air, everywhere. It is familiar, mostly, confusing still, but I’ve been here, there, here. There is settling , lowering, movement, shaking and more grinding, scratching and pings. While I don’t know exactly what’s happening, some part of me does know, and something will turn on soon, has to, will. The movement is slowly coming to a halt. I am here, somewhere, yes, here, somewhere. But where, is it Kanas Lake? What, I don’t know? I know I cannot breathe, but I will, I know I will, and I will calm down. I will, right, right. I try get up, but, what, oh, the lights are coming on. The glare burns my eyes, my skin, my brain. I put my hand up in front of my face, shielding myself from that which I don’t yet grasp, but will soon, now, yes. “Relax, breathe,” the calming voice says, always calm, always protective, like a cocoon. I relax. I breathe. “Slowly move your hands and feet,” the voice continues , “you are alright.” How does she know this? Because she is the voice and I know to trust the voice. The voice loves me, and the voice knows everything. I trust that and know it to be unequivocally true. It has to be so. I shake my hands and feet, at first just moving millimeters at a time, and then something more, bending, and O R P H A N S 98 blood flow. My eyes begin to adjust, my brain no longer so fried, my skin beginning to cool. “You are here,” the voice says, and the voice is life, “the journey is complete, please stand-up, slowly.” I am home. Soon, I will see Joey and Shalla, and I will wallow in them and lose myself in them and ultimately engulf them so there is nothing left that I will ever need. I tell my legs to stand, to swing over the side of the bed, but they do not, will not, not at first. I know it’s possible though and I push off of the bed, despite peeing my pants, and despite the jolt that ripples through my legs, starting with my feet, before moving through my calves, knees, thighs and into my hips. I know I can do it, and now I’m standing. I’m good. As good as I can be. “Please proceed to the shower station outside the shuttle door,” the voice says. ...