Mike Harrison watched the shadow cross momentarily past Riku’s face and loosened his grip. He added that the new position was only an offer and that Riku wasn’t obliged to accept it, but could stay on in the hopes that a position might open within the department where he now worked. Not likely, but maybe in a few years. Nevertheless, the director encouraged him to take his time, perhaps as long as a week before deciding. Riku nodded, closing the door behind him.
Riku looked up at the sun, whose rays had begun to peek between the branches of the full-leafed apple tree. A cardinal alighted on one of those branches, skittered along the wood, and took to the air. He drew in a deep breath. What to do? What to do?
If he took the job, it meant uprooting his family yet again. But, as their only source of income, didn’t he have a responsibility to secure the best income, the best position, so that all their lives would have a chance to improve? And even though the family had placed much effort into the home—painting, scraping, polishing, and moving furniture—it was still only a rental. Even though he had a dream of ownership one day, it wasn’t his home. Surely Esther would be happy to see them go, to obtain a still-higher rental fee now that they had fixed up the house. And he would not miss the old woman next door, her spying eyes each time he would walk to his car, put the key in the lock. Still, a decision had to be made.
And then there was the matter of the job itself. Despite his confident demeanor in the workplace, he realized that it only masked his own insecurities. He understood numbers and formulas well enough, but manage a whole department of people? Just the thought sent his heart beating wildly in his chest. A decision. No matter what, he knew that Jenny would support him. Yet it was only his decision to make.
Riku closed his eyes. But the sun that had seemed so calming, so peaceful, only minutes before, was like a disk of fire now, attacking him mercilessly with its rays even though his eyelids were closed, and from which there was no escape. His eyes snapped open, taking in the patch of dirt, a grassy area that had been left untouched for years and that he and his sons had weeded only days earlier, the apple tree that loomed now threatening above him. Riku grew afraid when he realized that the thing that he had feared the most was happening again.
He felt the orange juice coming back up his throat, its acid burning, the black hairs on his arms becoming insects, crawling without mercy so that he couldn’t help but scratch his skin as he looked toward the sky, seeking a reprieve, a shower of rain. Worst of all, even though Riku was already on his feet, he found himself no longer able to move, rooted to the ground and trapped in the prison, lying faceup on a tiny cot big enough only for a small boy, encircled entirely by thick coils of barbed wire. He felt flushed, sick. He wanted to run but could not. He didn’t even know how to begin. He had to get out if only to stay alive. Get out. Get away from the body that had become a noose, tightening around him, sucking out his essence. And soon he was down, in that spot of dirt, still waiting for it to flower. He opened his mouth and felt the taste of salty wet tears. He wanted to call for Jenny but wasn’t sure if his mouth was even capable of making a sound. Miraculously, in minutes, she was by his side.
“Riku, what’s wrong? Tell me.”
But he could not formulate the words, could barely utter a squeak. His eyes, which he knew were wild now, like a madman, took in her lovely round face, so like a Kewpie doll, her liquid-brown eyes. She asked no more questions; only seconds later Riku found himself being escorted like an invalid back to the hammock, for somehow he had been lying on the ground some feet away. He plunged into it, surrounding himself in the comforting folds of the striped green-and-white canvas.
“Riku, please hear me. You’re having another panic attack. Take a few deep breaths. That’s right. You will be fine. You will be just fine.”
Jenny’s soothing voice washed over him, an ocean of calm. Riku closed his eyes and kept them shut for how long he couldn’t say. When he finally opened them, the sun’s colors had paled, and he watched the impression of clouds as they sailed through the air. Jenny was stroking his chest quietly. He nodded, took another breath.
“Will you tell me now?” she asked, her voice low, patient, as if speaking to a young child.
“I didn’t want to say, Jenny. It was my decision to make.”
Jenny nodded, her face settling from concern into a smile. It was almost as if she could read his mind.
“You know we’ll follow you wherever you go, whatever you decide. That will be the right decision.”