The Wish Bone

The Only Part

There is an African myth about a trickster who breathed life into a select few, so that when they died, their souls didn't die with them. Their souls would churn their pain, anguish and love together into something stronger than death. Their teeth are filled with enough emotion to bring forth magic. The tooth is wrapped around a simple string and hung on the necks of those who dream of hope. Once broken, it has the power to grant one wish to the beholder of the tooth. I hold the wishbone in my hand, twisting it around my neck with such familiarity. The rope begins to tear through my skin and the pain that overlaps the past, delves into my conscience. My memories seem distant but as the rope digs into my skin, the memory of her begins to knot.

A shiver travels through my skin, as I sit in the vacant living room feeling the darkness consume me. The room is a series of dark silhouettes illuminated only by the night sky. Past the reflection of myself, through the window, I feel an eerie calm set in, but the rain cries for me. The bed heaves goose bumps throughout my body. Through the darkness, I still know all the features. The room is filled with the same furniture and bookshelves that are now covered in plastic and coated with dust. The walls, that were full of knowledge and wisdom from all around the world, are bare. The nagging, plastic covers are a constant reminder of losing her. I wrap the wishbone in my hand and clench it until there is no distinction between the white tooth and my knuckles. As I glance down at the wishbone, I remember my eyes lighting in excitement when I first received it.

I was no older than a teenager and I jumped up in glee over it. I was ecstatic to try and make a wish. But I was halted by the seriousness of my grandmother's tone.

"Jenipher, you only get one wish; break it only when you're truly certain of that wish."

"What if I make a mistake and wish for the wrong thing," I mumbled.

She replied, "You're not a fool. If there is something you want, you should pursue it. Hope has its own power. Don't waste it on foolish things."

I became sober for a moment as the importance hit me. The wishbone became more than just a necklace. The urge not to break the wishbone became more important, the wish- the hope, rather – should be worthy of it. I felt my grandmother's slightly aged hands move around my neck where she tied the knot.

She began educating me on life and all its beauty. One day she took me to the beach where the water moved harmoniously across the sand. I stood at the edge of the water and felt the tide erode the sand underneath me, over and over again. Both my grandmother and I stood in comfortable silence. We looked up at the translucent clouds and gradually lowered our eyes to the horizon, never out of sight. The air was crisp as is flowed past me. I could hear the waves gently colliding with the rocks to the side. I closed my eyes and envisioned myself dancing across the horizon, surrounded on each side by a never-ending body of water. Afterwards, we went to the swings that looked out to the world in front of us.

As I was swinging, I imagined myself dancing through the pinks and oranges of the horizon. Up in the skies, I lived in a world free of precaution, free of pressure and free of loss. Up in the clouds, there was no start or end but the vast depths of the pale blue universe. The heat of the sun caressed my face as I began drifting with the clouds. I longed to stay in this moment, but everything changes; the world evolves, people are brought into this world as death is cast onto others.

When I saw my grandmother, I smiled but I grew worried by the brownish tone to her skin and the slow, painful way she moved as she took steps towards me. She always had a commanding presence no matter what, but recently, she seemed frail. That scared me as I began to face my worst nightmare. I gradually began seeing less and less of my grandmother as the sickness took over.

Death began to cast a shadow on her. I was reliving my nightmares but this time I couldn't wake up. The wrinkles that told stories about her life and her struggles deepened. Her face became too small for her hazel brown eyes. Those eyes looked past the mask I put on, and saw all my fears.

She continued to gaze into my eyes as she spoke, "Jenipher, you create your own life from making your own actions and thoughts. Life is about making constant choices that result in consequences and benefits. Death is part of life because without it, would we really be living?"

"Would we really be living if we knew we couldn't die?" She pondered again.

I had no answer and looked around the living room where we sat. It was filled with rows and rows of books. I focused on some of the books with distinct names. However, two books caught my eye, A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis, and The Next Place by Warren Hanson. As my grandmother continued talking, I stood and became lost in pull towards the books.

When I noticed it was silent, I turned around to face my grandmother. She began watching me with a hooded expression.

She said warily, "No one can hide from death forever. No one. Death travels through the world and can pass the thickest walls. You should remember that."

With the last sentence she searched my eyes for understanding but all she acquired was a look of despair. I grabbed the wishbone in my hand and said:

"I can wish for you to become healthy again,"

"Do as you will, but remember what I said; don't waste your wish on something that is only part of life."

My grandmother gave me one last look with a half smile which was even too much for her and left.

She tried to teach me the ultimate lesson. The last look was filled love, pain, and anguish with a hint of disappointment. I walk to the empty bookshelves and the trial of my fingers on the dust creates a path from one end to the other. I remove the wishbone from my neck and set it gently on the shelf. As I set it down, a weight is lifted. As I leave the room and turn to lock the door, I remember what she said to me while I was lost in thought.

"Hope? Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there is no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it tightly, you can make things happen."