Green Eyes

The world he once knew had all but faded away. From the ridge-line, Jack tried to see the fields as they used to be. He missed the rippling verdant waves over the hills. He missed the trees that once had leaves. The leaves that once sheltered flocks of ivory birds. The birds that once sang life into the countryside at dawn.

His tattered scarf fell loose in a gust of wind, and he held it gently against his face. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to breathe without choking. Dust surged over the road, stinging his eyes and assaulting his nostrils.

Even in his mind, the colours were fading. How long had it been since he’d laid eyes on a scene that wasn’t a shade of dirt? How long since he’d chased red-breasted robins, pedalled a bike through golden wildflowers, or raced his brothers in blue overalls through thick, green grass?

Green. It had always been his favourite colour.

Green. Just like her eyes.

Jack clutched the small heart-shaped locket that hung from a chain around his neck. So long as he had her, that was one colour that would never fade. He pressed his lips together as warmth filled his chest. Lowering his head against the dust storm, he trudged on with new-found vigour.

* * *

Shielded by rocky outcrops, Jack arrived home just after the sun reached its peak. The hut stood grey and weathered, but it was a welcome sight. Shaking the dirt from his clothes, he squeezed through the wooden door.

“I found a tin of lentils,” he spoke into the darkness, dropping his shoulder to release the backpack he’d been carrying. “It’s not much. But I thought you could use it to make that curry you like so much.”

Across the room, the shadows shifted as a young woman leaned forward. Her cheeks were pale, but her green eyes glimmered even in the dim light. “Yes,” she smiled, her voice quiet, “That would be nice.”

He wandered over to the crooked table and sat across from her. “How are you feeling, Amelia?”

“Better,” she smiled widely, but he could see that the energy was forced. He fiddled with the chain around his neck.

“Do you still have my locket?” she asked.

“Of course,” he smiled, running his fingers over the smooth edges of the silver heart. “I must say, though,” he smirked, “I got this for you so that you could wear it.”

Amelia giggled, “I know. But when you’re out there, you’re all alone,” her voice cracked, and she paused to clear her throat. “This way, I can be with you.”

He smiled gently, gazing into her eyes with more love than he’d ever thought was possible. “You’re always with me.”

Her dark hair hung in long strands, swaying as she tilted her head and gave him a satisfied look. She was getting weaker, but she had a spirit that kept her demeanour bright despite her condition. He wanted to reach out and touch her soft, delicate features, when she suddenly doubled over to stifle a coughing fit. The sight left a bitter taste in his mouth, and his fingers tightened around the locket he was still holding.

“I’ll cook the food. You should rest,” he said decisively, rising from the table.

* * *

The small gas stove sputtered as Jack hovered over the lentils. A faint aroma of charcoal hung in the air by the time he’d finished, and he hoped Amelia wouldn’t notice. If she did, she said nothing but simply smiled gratefully as he placed a full bowl on the table before her.

“It’s not the same as when you make it,” he muttered an apology.

She only laughed. “It looks perfect to me.”

As he ate, he told her about his morning. About his trek to what remained of their hometown. About the fields of dirt, and how he’d tried so hard to remember what the old world had looked like before it was burnt and dry and smog clung to the horizon.

By the time Jack wandered over to the window, pulling the cloth back to glance outside, the dust storm had ceased and the sun sat low and comfortable in the sky.

“I should check the traps,” he thought aloud with an eye on the horizon.

“I’ll go with you.”

He turned at the small voice that had perked up from across the room.

“You should stay here,” he hesitated, “Besides, there’s nothing to see out there.”

“But I want to go,” Amelia stood, stepping towards him excitedly. “I haven’t been out in so long,” she reasoned, gazing past him to the window. “And the storm has passed.”

“There’s still a lot of dust out there,” he said, concerned. “It’s not good for your lungs. You know that.”

“I do,” she said sadly, “But I want to be outside. I want to watch the sunset.”

Jack pressed his lips together, fiddling with the locket again as he studied her. She was like a child, her green eyes wide and longing for adventure. But her delicate frame and pale skin made him anxious.

“Please?” Amelia gazed up at him intently, and something deep within him crumbled.

“Alright,” he said softly. “But we won’t wander far.”

Her obvious delight had him smiling despite himself. He watched as she wrapped a light blanket around herself, ready to shield her face against the arid outdoors.

* * *

They walked behind the hut towards a shallow ravine. At the bottom of the ravine flowed a creek, where the wiry shrubs and tufts of grey, dry grass grew thickest. Despite its relative fertility, the ravine was a lifeless scene to look upon. The plants that grew here were tough and drained of colour. Much the same as everything in the new world.

Loose gravel rattled down the side of the ravine as Jack carefully stepped down the incline. Approaching one of the traps, he sighed at the absence of a small critter in its grasp. Making his way to where the next trap lay, he was startled by a shrill sound from above.

“Jack, look!”

Jerking his head up, Jack could see Amelia peering down at him. His stomach settled once he noticed the smile on her face.

“Over here,” she called to him again, “Jack, you need to see this!” She turned and began making her way along the edge of the ravine.

“Amelia, wait for me.” Jack scurried to climb the rocky slope. A cloud of dust surrounded him as he churned up the dry earth.

The melody of Amelia’s laughter floated through the air. “Come on Jack, hurry!”

Reaching the top of the incline, Jack coughed through the dust and searched for Amelia. He called out in the direction she had gone, away from the hut, further down the valley. There was no response.

Hurrying along the edge of the ravine, he continued to call for her, forcing down the dread that was brewing in the pit of his stomach. She shouldn’t be out here alone. He squinted as the fading sun cast the world into grey, struggling to make out his surroundings in the low light. The silver chain rattled against his chest, and he reached for the locket instinctively. Pausing to catch his breath, Jack tried to decipher the darkness around him. The ravine to his left had widened into a gaping gorge of shadows. For a moment, Jack was sure he glimpsed movement in its depths.

“Amelia?” he called, walking to the edge of the ravine to scrutinise the shadows. An odd sense of familiarity came over him, and suddenly fear shot like a bullet through his core. Jack stumbled back. Deep inside, he knew he shouldn’t be here.

A distant voice broke through his fear. “Jack?”

Finding his resolve, Jack stepped to the edge of the ravine once again. Amelia’s voice echoed below, “I’m down here. I... I need you.”

“Amelia, are you alright?” Jack cried out, “Where are you?”

“Down here. I need you to come. Hurry!” By the sound of her voice, Jack decided she could not be too far from where he stood. With a sense of anxious urgency he scrambled in the darkness as he descended into the ravine. His voice rasping, he continued to call for her.

It may have been a loose rock, or a branch weakened by death—whatever it was, Jack barely noticed until he was tumbling down the side of the ravine. The world spun and bruised him on every side, scratching at his face with skeletal claws. Dust filled his lungs and burned his throat.

A moment passed before Jack realised that he was no longer falling. A damp chill spread over him as he rolled over. Muddy creek water swirled around him.

Slowly, Jack rose to his knees, relieved to find that he could move despite the pain. Lifting a hand to his chest, he reached for the silver locket but felt nothing. Moonlight began to break through the smog as he glanced around. Panic surged within. “Amelia? Amelia!”

The night was still, but for the steady trickle of the creek.

“Amelia!” His hands searched the water around him, clawing at the soft mud below. She had to be here. “Amelia!”

Her voice was a gentle, warm whisper. “I’m here, Jack. I’m right here.”

Jack glanced up. He could hardly make out her green eyes in the pale light. Amelia. Something brushed against his fingers, and he lifted his hand from the creek bed. Caught in his palm, the silver heart glimmered. He glanced back at Amelia who knelt before him. Regret filled her green eyes.

“Why did you bring me here?” He could feel a deep pain—the kind that was heavy and old and familiar—awakening in his chest.

“I had to.”

Jack could hear that same pain in Amelia’s voice. He glanced over her shoulder, just beyond the creek bank. The moonlight barely illuminated a pile of rugged stones and the wooden cross wedged between them.

A cry of despair filled the air.

Amelia’s voice whispered gently in the night. “I brought you here to say goodbye.” She compelled him to meet her gaze and, when he finally did, he saw her tears. “Jack. You have to let me go.”

“No... Amelia.” My Amelia. Unable to grant her request, he lowered his gaze. As the water flowed around his knees, he caught glimpses of a man he had not seen in a long time. A man with tired eyes, features worn but hardened, framed by grey hair. This man was unfamiliar to him. But the longer he stared, the more he begun to recognise the distorted face gazing sadly at him from the water’s surface. And with that face, the memories of a lifetime long forgotten slowly returned. Memories of love. Of loneliness. Of survival.

Jack wiped at the tears in his eyes. He wanted to see her face clearly, one last time.

Amelia held her hands open—waiting. Jack clutched the silver heart, and with all the courage he could muster, he placed the locket in her palms. Letting his arms fall, his empty fingers lingered in the water as the return of old grief weighed him down. He tried to etch the image of her deep in his mind. His sweet Amelia, kneeling before him, with her gentle smile and dark hair falling over pale cheeks that could never break the spirit within.

His vision clouded.

As the tears fell, he allowed the green to fade from her eyes.