Where's Joy?

Where she ventures home

The front door was propped open and Harmony sat on the porch steps. Her long legs that matched Joy's, swung back and forth like the pendelum on a grandfater's clock. She had a lolipop in her mouth and drew circles in her drawing book. She looked up, assesed Joy's teary eyes, then went back to her circles.

Joy hadn't even passed through the door when Harmony snickered: "What did you cry about this time?"

Joy paused and turned.

You're the worst sister a girl can have! I hope one day all the love I gave to you disappears. All the times I listened to you rant over your stupid boyfriends, and replaced your drawing tools with my money, and asked you if you were okay when dad was being horrid. And when it disappears, when all my love for you dries up, when my heart is completely hardened, I hope you feel as alone and abandoned as me.

It always happened like this, that rage. Everytime Joy came even a foot near her home, it built up from somewhere deep inside her. Like she had buried it without knowing. Like it would fight to the death to take over.

But Joy refused tolet it spill. Instead, she concentrated on the circles Harmony had drawn. Each one a different color, they lay bright on the page. Red merging into blue, and blue dissolving into pink, and on, and on.

Somehow it stabilized her. Joy found herself turning away from Harmony. She entered through the open front door, allowing her little sister's twisted laugh to fade.

The smell of garlic powder and curry sauce swam through the air and splashed onto Joy's nose. Her stomach rumbled in response and she headed for the kitchen.

Her mother moved like a bird; snatching thyme here, sprinkling salt there. She was a machine, hardlined and cosnatntly rolling. There was no stopping her mother.

"Mom." Joy started, her tears freely flowing now. Her mother turned and sighed. "Oh dear, what's happened this time? Didn't you get to meet with George? Why, what is it, was he too busy?"

"He-, things were just-, he said love-" Joy rambled through her tears and cried a little harder. Her mother sighed again and set a plate on the island top. "Sit. eat."

And she did. Large spoonful after large spoonfull, until the tears dried. Until the pepper made her nose run and Peace wandered in.

"Hey sister sister." Peace smacked Joy on the back causing her to choke. The eldest had a sneaky sheen to her eyes, her ponytail of curls bobbing in mischief. Then again, everything about Peace was mischevious. From the way she spoke to how she walked, every word and every step laced with other-meanings that Joy had no intention of ever knowing.

Peace winked then danced over to their mother. She gave her a big hug. "How ya doing mama bear."

To an ordinary person peering through the kitchen window, the scene before them would have looked sweet. Perhaps endearing. But Joy knew her family better than that. Peace's eyes flashed once, as her arms went around her mother, something like hate carved deep into her expression. So deep Joy held her breath until it passed.

"What did you do to your sister? Are you what's got her crying?" Mother wiggled out of her embrace.

"Wait you cried?" Peace raised an eyebrow. She had stolen half a yellow pepper from the cutting board and was chewing it. "How'd you know I ate all your chocolate covered strawberries? Damn, you're like a spy."

"You did what?" Joy felt the hurt in her throat from her yell. She hadn't meant for her words to come out that way, but George's words scrolled through her mind: I just can't love me and you for the both of us.

The rage that Joy had struggled so desperately to keep together fell apart then boiled.

Joy lunged at Peace.

But her mother stood between them. "That's enough." Her mother's voice as usual remianed low and unaffected. "Peace, go out and buy some more it's only fair."

"I'm not gonna. She has two legs she can go buy them herself. Such a baby, cryyyy cuz of strawberries. Pah." Peace wiggled her butt and scampered away from Joy's clawing hands.

"What's all the noise about, ladies." Dad. He stood by the kitchen door. Harmony lumbered in right behind him, lugging his briefcase and humming a song Joy recognized.

Peace made a face. "Joy's crying over strawberries."

"What? What's wrong with you." He directed his question at Joy. His brows furrowed in confusion.

It was his staple look of bewilderment, because Joy was just such a puzzle. Because her entire being was just so freaking complicated. Joy hopped off the stool and placed her empty plate in the sink.

"Thank you mom." she whispered

Joy shuffled towards the stairs, refusing to look back.

There was silence halfway in her ascend. And she held her breath. This would be it. Father would call her back to come and talk about the matter, whatever it was. Peace would apologize, Harmony would ask her why she was crying for real. Mother's face will melt into real concern, real curiousity, not the underhand expression of 'why do I have to deal with this.'

But the silence ended immediately after Joy's hope began. And the everyday chatter of her family resumed. She retreated to her room at the top of the stairs and locked the door with silent fingers.

Their voices were muffled now and she was alone. Except for Mr loo.

Her stuffed elephant sat, rather importantly, on the edge of her bed, his large pink ears alert. Her one and only friend.

"Mr loo, I'm dying." Joy flopped down on her bed, grabbing Mr loo. She rolled on to her back and stared into his eyes. "Did you hear me? Well I'm not dying per say, but it sure feels like it."

And Mr Loo stared at her with his tiny knowing green eyes. It said so much. Because even with the drama that surrounded her words, even with the exagerration in her speech. He could see straight through to her trembling heart.

This house was filled with people, but it may as well have been empty.

Joy had used to wonder, when she was much younger, why she was living in this town that was so empty. With a family that made her feel strange for not wanting to be empty.

And Joy could never really place why Peace acted the way she did. Why she never showed anyone that hate that was so clear in her eyes. Why Harmony swallowed everything, including herself, in those ridiculously useless circles.

"I want to be full Mr Loo." Joy found herself saying. Her voice shook on each word. "I want to be full of so much love that I'll never be empty."

But what if George took it all? What if George had taken her heart and her soul, and her everything. God, it really felt like he had. Who then was Joy supposed to be?

"Mr Loo, who am I supposed to be when I'm empty?"

Mr Loo's knowing eyes bore down on her, something solemn: I understand Joy, I have always understood. The love you thought you had is gone. I understand if you need to cry some more. When we cry, our tears go to an other-place where our heart can heal.

"Thank you." Joy whispered. And the tears fell. Each drop escaping to that other-place.

 "Thank you, Mr Loo."