Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Fellowship (among believers) (10/11/07)
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TITLE: Journey's End | Previous Challenge Entry
By Cathy Holsey
10/16/07 -
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Slivers of morning light seeped through bedroom shades. Cross-sectioned to the covers, a figure laid prone. At the foot of the bed an enormous cat stretched the sleep from its legs and proceeded deliberately towards his master, cranking up a feline version of morning revelry.
Allison cracked the lid of one eye. The massive hulk of Melvin loomed over her. Allison glared at him, but Melvin, nonplused, and slightly irritated that the furless one wasn’t already heading downstairs to dish up his Fancy Feast, shifted the caterwauling into high gear.
Allison, giving up on any hope of extra sleep, rolled out of bed. Scoping the room for slippers, she located one by the closet door. The errant slipper took a minute to find before spotting it in Melvin’s cat bed. The bed that finicky Melvin declined to use, preferring the big one of the furless creature and her little duvet, too.
Allison picked up the latest casualty of Melvin’s penchant for all things shiny. Felined racing stripes marked the sides of the satin bedroom shoe. The ones Ryan had meant to give her for Christmas that she’d found two weeks after the funeral under the top tray of his tool box.
Tears puddled, clouding Allison’s line of vision and threatening a dam burst. She dropped the slipper onto the bed, crawling in after it, and threw the duvet over them both. Minutes passed before Allison drifted restlessly to sleep. Melvin missed his Fancy Feast breakfast.
Hours later Allison startled awake to the phone ringing. “Hello!” her voice laced with irritation. Allison wondered what else could ruin the start of her weekend.
“Allison, hi, it’s Dana. Hope I didn’t call too early.”
“Sorry Dana. Melvin got me up at the crack of dawn and I was catching a few extra winks.” Allison propped herself up on one elbow and turned the alarm clock around. Eleven-thirty, almost lunchtime.
“Allison, you have a visitor in your yard. Since the funeral, Stephen has wanted to do something special for you; something you’d really like. He’s working on your walkway now.”
Allison pulled the bedroom curtain to one side. Dana’s twelve year old was heaving a flagstone towards the unfinished walkway.
Ryan had started this project just days before his death, wanting to surprise her. But the flagstone path would never be finished by Ryan. Allison’s business trip to D.C. had been cut short with a call about the hit and run accident that had claimed Ryan’s life. Now an autistic twelve year old was trying his best to situate an awkward load on the ground.
“Thanks Dana. Let me run down and say hi to Stephen. I appreciate all you guys have done to help out.”
“Allison, I’ve got a pizza in the oven. Could you come over for lunch?”
Allison declined and promised to make good on a rain check for lunch later, before hanging up. After making quick work of dressing, she headed outdoors to check on Stephen’s progress.
“Hi Stephen! Wow, look at you go!” The walkway had taken on a snakelike form, heading slightly away from the porch now.
Stephen didn’t acknowledge Allison’s greeting. Head down, intent on the task at hand, he repeated. “Line up stones, line up stones.” Dana watched him work, lost in the urgency of its completion. Stephen labored on.
“Could I get you something to drink?” Dana inquired.
“Line up stones. Line up stones.” Stephen was nearing the end of the flagstone pile and ignored the interruption. There was only one stone remaining. Stephen jogged it over from the spent stack and dumped it on the ground with an emphatic whump.
“All done.” He stood back to survey his work.
Allison suddenly noticed the last stone was different than all the others. She moved closer and bent down to read the etched words. Chiseled into the stone read, “There is a joy in the journey.”
Allison touched the stone. This was part of Ryan’s surprise and, unknowingly, his last words to her. Words delivered by an unsung prophet. Allison reached up to hold Stephen’s hand. Stephen’s grasp was brief, before pulling away and pointing to the last stone. “All done. All done,” he repeated.
Allison rose, smiling through the tears. “Let’s go home Stephen.” The sun overhead caught the flagstone’s edge as they headed down the street, towards home and a hot lunch waiting.
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