Jocelyn's River

Jocelyn's River: Chapter 17

                                River Jameson's Point of View

        The drive back home was an uneasy one.  I wanted to turn around and go back.  Leaving Jocelyn at Denise's house brought on thoughts of being without her forever.  God knows I didn't want that.  And I knew that I could not make her stay with me.  There was nothing more I could do except confess my love to her over and over.  She had to know by now that ever since I was nineteen, I'd been hopelessly in love with her.

            Eight years ago, at the Tennessee River, I saw a beautiful and fragile girl about to commit suicide.  Her skin color did not matter to me.  Color could not define a person and I had learned this from my mother.  She befriended many of the colored citizens of Waterloo.  The gang I condemned myself to hate every single black person that came across their path and one night, that person happened to be Jocelyn's brother.

            When I first joined the gang, I stood around and watched them torment and call them the degrading “n” word.  Once or twice, I begged them to stop and brought punishment on myself which forced me to keep my mouth shut from then on.  Thinking about it now makes me want to explode at how ignorant and cowardly I'd been.  I gave in to their every word just because I wanted to belong.  They murdered Bryson and that was when I vowed to step out of the circle.  Belonging did not concern me so much any longer.

            That night when I first saw Jocelyn, I felt her pain.  Her desire for freedom flooded all that I ever wanted.  I came to realize that I had been selfish.  I moped around wanting to belong when others were trapped in a country that shunned them and I put myself in a gang that did just that.  It stung me to see her cry and know of her unhappiness.  She was so pretty and helpless that all I thought of doing was protecting her.  I kissed her which evoked a strong emotion that trailed through my body and ended its journey in my heart.

            While eliciting the past, I turned the wheel to drive into the parking lot of the apartment complex.  I heard the sound of a siren and everything around me whirled and then melted away.  The sound was horrendous to my ears and had such an impact that I felt as if my insides were crumbling up.  In slow motion, an ambulance rolled in from the other direction.  My heart slammed against my chest as I parked the truck. 

            Without thinking, I hopped out of the truck and raced through the entrance door before the paramedics. 

            “Oh, god!”  I mumbled to myself.  “Lord, please don't let this be!”

            I could hear them with their equipment as they came in after me.  Within a matter of seconds, I was at the door to our room and I almost kicked the door in to get inside.  Aunt Debbie rushed into my arms, sniveling uncontrollably.  Uncle Brian stood a few feet away.

            “What happened?” I hollered unconsciously.

            “River,” Uncle Brian started.  His eyes were watery.

            Gently, I unwrapped Aunt Debbie's arms from around me and I walked into my mother's dim room. 

Switch to Patricia's Point of View

            My son, my precious jewel.  Oh, how I wanted to reach out and embrace him and tell him how much I loved him.  I was exhausted and I heard the angels calling to me.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not move.  The room illuminated magically and around it stood muscular men dressed in consecrated white robes.