Golden Wings

Chapter 27~ Present Day, New York

The room is large and spacious, with wide windows on the wall. The walls are the same colour as the bed, a warm yellow beige that makes the room look brighter. There are not many things in the room, only a photo on the wall. Inspecting it closer, I discover it's a photo of me. In harsh red marker, scrolled across my laughing face are the startling words, 'I'm sorry.' In Janet's delicate handwriting. The words bring tears to my eyes. Does she... blame herself?

I look over towards the bed and find an old woman resting wearily on it. It takes me a minute to recognize her as Janet.

But it is. Her navy eyes are the same, though everything else about her has changed. Her once confident posture has shrunken, making her look small. Her black hair, previously long and straight, has been shaved short, causing it to curl. It's turned into a silvery gray colour as well, only reminding me how old she has become.

"Oh, Janet..." I whisper in shock.

Her head whirls around, startling me. I stand there, dumbfounded, as an expression of doubt clouds her face.

"Who are you?" She demands, and my heart breaks to still hear some of my sister in her.

"Janet... It's me, it's Clarisa." I say, hurt, stepping towards her.

"No, you're not. You can't be." She says hysterically. "You can't be!"

"Janet-"

"It's impossible! My sister died-"

"79 years ago?" I ask her, cutting her off. "I fell off a boat that was bound for New York from England, in the middle of the Atlantic. It was storming, and we went up to see it. A wave hit the side, and I slipped off."

Janet sits there, silent for a moment. Tears then spring to her eyes. "Clares..." She whispers, and my eyes fill. "Clares, it is you."

I run towards her, and carefully wrap her in a hug. Tears stream down both of our faces, and being in Janet's arms again feels so good, I can hardly breathe.

"You look..." She sniffs, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. "Oh, Clares, you look just the same. A little older perhaps but... But how?" She asks.

Once again, as if of their own accord, my wings extend. "Janet, it's..."

Janet falls silent, and I assume she's in awe, but then she speaks, "I'm so sorry." Janet weeps, and I cock my head, looking at her.

"For what?" I ask, confused.

"It's- It's my..." She sobs, and my earlier thought is confirmed.

"Janet... you can't really think that it's your fault?" I ask, appalled.

"It is! It is!" She insists, crying. "If we hadn't gone up there-"

"We would have anyways!" I defend, "Janet, I know how much you like storms."

"Used to." She says so quietly that I almost miss it.

"Used to?"

"I used to like storms..." She says darkly. "Now all they do is remind me of you, and that night and-"

"Janet. I've never, ever blamed you." I interrupt her, shaking my head. "If I had known that you felt that way..."

"How could you? You're... dead, you're an angel... I don't know..."

"I don't know how to explain it, either," I say, not knowing why. If I were to try to tell her, I found myself unable to. "But Janet, please. Listen to me." I urge, and she looks at me. "I have never, and will never blame you."

"But-"

"The floor was wet and a wave rocked the boat. I slipped." I say simply. How could she possibly think...? "You could have done nothing to help, and it could have happened to anyone. I promise, Janet. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."

She smiles slightly, and we embrace again.

"I love you, Clarisa." She whispers, and a tear falls down my cheek.

"I love you too, Janet." I pull back and laugh through my tears, "Despite you being an old grandma."

She laughs but looks saddened.

"Janet?" I ask, worrying I'd struck a nerve. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." She sighs, "It's just... We each had our whole lives in front of us. That was what New York was supposed to be, right?" She smiles, but it's pained. "But then you..." She takes a shaky breath. "You fell off that ship, and I was... Never the same again."

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head sadly, "I've been here for 75 years, Clares. Not at Redwaters, but... I've been around. Mother and Father spent a fortune to get me to the best place, to the best help." She laughs bitterly. "Not that it did anything. Since they died, I've been stuck here via their final wishes, paid for in part by them and in part by the government. I never... even had a chance."

"What are you saying?"

"Clares, I'm the last living James. At least in our family, but even then..." She trails off, and starts again, "Think of all the things we wanted to do... I wanted to have a family, to go places, to do things..."

"Janet..."

"It's okay Clares... It's no one's fault but my own. I could have left a long time ago."

"Why didn't you?" I ask.

"You." She says quietly, and we fall into a comfortable silence.

"I missed you, Janet," I say after a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. I look at her, concerned, and see that she's fallen asleep. I stand slowly and kiss her on the forehead. "I love you, sister. Rest well."

I leave, closing the door silently behind me. Feeling satisfied, I take the stairs down and exit out onto the streets of New York.