Chambers of the Heart // Jake Kiszka

I

Brides of Christ argue

in the chambers of his heart:

that little red house with the picket fence,

always on fire.

---

Josh was talking very loudly, his words directed at Jake, who was standing over in the grass, long, dark hair hanging in his face. I watched him push a strand away only to have it fall back in front of his eye; he tucked it back behind his ear, the curve of seashell-colored flesh peeking through his threads of dark hair, nodding a little at whatever Josh was saying to him.

I was a little distracted by the chill in the air--the wind whipped around my body for an insidious moment, the flimsy black dress doing next to nothing at keeping me warm or even slightly protected from the elements. At least it had sleeves.

It's for Josh, I reminded myself. I wasn't an actress--the most I'd ever done was an elementary school production of The Wizard of Oz, and I hadn't had a lead role then--yet I'd succumbed to Josh's wishes of using me for this short film he was working on.

The wind whipping around me again, I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and glanced to the twins again. Josh had the script in his hand and his camera on a tripod next to him; Jake squeezed the pig's heart in his hand and I winced a little at the sight. We had both asked Josh if a fake rubber one would do the trick but he'd insisted on making it as real as possible. Unfortunately, that meant having to go through a number of those pig hearts just to get the scene down.

Josh called my name from the other side of the road, waving me over.

I checked to make sure that no cars were coming--unlikely on such a rural back road at 7 am--and crossed, shoes scuffing as I made it over the pavement.

"What?" I asked, crossing my arms again.

"What do you think?" Josh asked, gesturing to his brother. "Should we have him wear the crown of thorns for this scene or not?"

I looked down at the very crown that was peeking out of Josh's open backpack, then back to the pair. "No, right? Because he's imagining himself before he was like, the symbol of himself, right?"

Josh hummed and tapped his chin. "I think you're right. He does need thorns on him, though."

"Did you bring any?" I asked, not sure if that was a stupid question or not.

Josh laughed. "No, we have to go get them."

"I think I saw a blackberry bush," Jake remarked with a jut of his chin to the woods behind all of us.

"Okay, you kids go do that," Josh said, grabbing the camera from the tripod. "I have to fiddle with this thing for a minute anyway. But we should really get this before the sun is too high."

I grabbed my jacket and put it on as Jake and I headed to the woods, though he remained in the loose, thin white shirt. His chest was exposed and I could see his skin was pink from the chilly air, his cheeks even pinker than that.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, ducking under the spindly branch of a tree, the leaves crunching under both of our feet as Jake led the way into the trees.

"A little," he admitted, voice still somewhat gravely with sleep.

I left it at that, keeping in stride with him. I'd never been able to read Jake--my friendship with Josh had started easily, with his beaming bright energy a segway into any conversation and any activity. I'd been mystified by Josh at first, how his beautiful chaos was seemingly endless, and it had been easy to feel close to him as time went on.