Theoretically Speaking

Open Up Your Heart

NESS

Bits of dust stirred in the air as Ness sat in his car, peeling back tape and ripping open cardboard. He coughed with every plume of dust that dispersed into the already bone-dry air. Going through the boxes was almost surreal, like going through ancient artifacts. With another rip and a few more tears, cardboard was torn away to reveal photos, knick knacks, and the rest of the junk that he didn't have the heart to dispose of.

He owned an absurd amount of New York themed merchandise for someone who had never even been there before, nor did he ever plan on visiting- it didn't matter how big of a deal people made it out to be or how frequently it was romanticized in movies, he didn't see the appeal of giant cities or visiting them in person to bask in their loud, bustling, smelly glory- the only thing that made him almost consider it from time to time was the thought of going to a broadway musical, the one activity that every other modern American had on their not-so original bucket list.

The largest box in the car was dedicated entirely to his collection of New York City sweatshirts, hats, and a few coffee mugs. He had no idea how his dad managed to fit so much into his carry-on before the flights back home. Whenever he got back from a business trip, he would proceed to unpack the haul from his bag like Mary Poppins, hamming it up like it was a totally unexpected surprise. He used to say the collection would be something to look back on once Ness got settled down and secured a successful career.

He was more than confident that his son would make it all the way to Juilliard, no matter how much Ness insisted that he only planned on moving as far away as Colorado. But then Dad would say, "if you can already make it to the stars, getting to the moon will be a piece of cake."

Ness held a snow globe in his hand. Its glass encapsulated a miniature Empire State Building, surrounded by bits of glitter and confetti. It wasn't in the same condition as when it was gifted to him when he was a teenager. The fake snow used to sparkle and swirl around like magic, but now it all stayed stagnant at the bottom, dead in the water. Ness gave it a tepid shake. The half-hearted effort did nothing to revive the magic. Nothing would. It was a painfully literal physical metaphor. And a cruel one at that.

There was no reason to be going through all of the boxes. He already knew what was in there, but he couldn't fight back the need to double check. Back when he still had the apartment, everything had its place. All he had to do was look, and there it was. It wasn't like it was at risk of being stolen, but it still didn't feel right to leave it all out here, abandoned. There was no way of knowing for sure how much longer it would be until he could unpack everything in its entirety without worry of having to move again at a moment's notice.

After several minutes of digging and deliberation, Ness removed a sweatshirt. It was the first addition to the collection, given to him on his fifteenth birthday. Dad bought it in a size that was three times too big, just to make sure that he never outgrew it. Ness had never grown into it to begin with. The material was soft, with a rough, fuzzy texture from years of pilling. It still carried the faintest scent of lavender detergent, with a hint of sunscreen and salt spray from the last time he'd worn it. He closed his eyes as he pulled it on. He could almost feel the cool gusts of wind on his face. He could hear seagulls overhead, along with the creaks and wines of an old boardwalk, wooden planks softened from decades upon decades of saltwater spilling over from the sea and the bare feet of tourists.

Somewhere in another box was a snow globe, from the last visit they had taken to South Haven, Michigan. It was only a few weeks after South Haven when they went to the hospital for the last time. Mom held both his and dad's hands as tight as she could, in spite of the aches and tremors of arthritis. She didn't cry after they said goodbye to dad. She didn't cry for a long time.