While I Was Away(88)

This was more than a dream, though; he could feel that instantly. While his situation was surreal, there was none of the disorientation that came along with most dreams. He felt solid, he could feel the air in his lungs and could hear his own voice.

“Something happened,” he figured, pinching his chin between his fingers. “Something bad, and now I'm here.”

But this wasn't right. He knew what this place was supposed to look like, where were the poppies? Where was the endless ocean and the strange town? Where was the castle? Where was his diner and his cabin?

Where was Adele?

Jones frowned and glanced around him. Just twisting, curling, gray fog. No sign of anything at all beyond it, and certainly no sign of another human being.

She's out there, she's waiting for me. I know she is.

God, how long had he been there? It had felt like hours when he'd been jogging, but now he wasn't sure. Maybe it had been days. It certainly felt like he'd been there a good long while, and he knew time moved differently here. Adele had once said it all went fast for her, but had still felt like forever – like several forevers. So who knew how long he'd been there already?

And who knew how long he'd stay?

“Adele,” he whispered.

She was a sensitive soul, much more so than him. Wherever she was, she was probably hurting. She was probably scared and alone and missing him as much as he missed her.

“I'm so, so sorry, Adele.”

No. Jones refused to be sad. Just knowing she was out there, knowing she was probably holding his hand right that moment, it meant something. It was worth fighting his way back to.

“How did you do it?” he sighed, moving his chin to his palm and resting it there so he could slowly look around. “You imagined a whole world, but apparently this fog is the best I can do.”

It wasn't fair. He'd been there once before, surely he could make it happen again.

I just have to believe.

He concentrated. If Adele could do this, then so could he, and he pictured the poppy field in his mind's eye. Focused on the flowers. On the varying shades of red, and their green stalks. Gently swaying in a light breeze as it rippled across them. It was a beautiful day in his mind, and he could almost feel the sun on his skin.

Next he stared at the dark center of the flowers, with its bright spot in the middle of the darkness. He made note of the number of petals on different blooms, on the number of points on their leaves. He tried to memorize everything he was seeing, tried to paint a picture with his mind.

She did this, and so can you. Just believe.

When Jones opened his eyes, he was looking down at his feet, at the fog swirling around his shoes. Nothing happened, and while he stared, it felt like another eternity passed.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way – maybe he should try running again.

Before he could make a move to stand, though, something happened.

In front of his very eyes, a bud pushed its way up from the ground, through the fog. It looked dull and lifeless at first, but as it grew and unfurled in front of him, it started to fill with color. By the time the petals burst forth, they were practically glowing, the red a shining beacon amongst all the gray.

A laugh fell out of his mouth at the same time he felt a tear fall down his face.

“One down,” he whispered, staring at the poppy. It trembled, and for just a moment, he could've sworn the color flickered. But then it blazed brilliantly again, even brighter than before, and he smiled. “A whole field to go. It may take me forever, Adele, but I'll find my way back to you. I will. Wait for me.”

And then he closed his eyes and he pictured their field again, and if this was all a dream, he hoped she'd be there, waiting for him somewhere among the flowers.





Epilogue




“To River!”

Everyone lifted their glasses in the air. Adele was holding a piece of pizza to her mouth, but she quickly dropped it and scrambled to grab her cup. She held it aloft with everyone else.

“Why to me?” River asked, laughing and scratching at his head.

“Because,” Ocean continued with his toast. “While all of us were moping and whining about Adele being in the hospital, you went out and got a job. Found a place for yourself here. If you hadn't done that, I don't think I would've ever thought of making L.A. my home.”

Everyone was surprised by the statement. Ocean was the oldest Reins sibling, and took his job as big brother very serious – he loved them all fiercely, but he pushed them hard, and rarely ever seemed to notice when they accomplished something on their own.

“Uh ... you okay?” River asked. Ocean glared.

“What's that supposed to mean? I'm making a nice toast here!” he snapped, and August laughed from his end of the table.

“Exactly!”

Everyone else laughed as well, but then collected themselves enough to say cheers and clap and take their drinks. Ocean stayed standing the whole time, and before anyone could put their glasses back down, he started speaking again.

“And my youngest brother, August. I know you're going through a rough time right now, and I wish things were different, but I have to be honest – I'm so happy you're moving here, too. I didn't really realize it before, but when we're not all together, it just doesn't feel right. You coming to L.A., that's right. So I'm glad you're here, little bro.”