Spirit Blood

Chapter 7: Atmara

Farah and JJ had driven far past the street of Jamaica and headed farther down the road to a nicer neighborhood than that of the urban city. Apartments turned into townhomes and townhouses turned into estates. In fact, Farah and JJ entered the area of Jamaica Estates, one of the better living areas of Queens, New York. The neighborhood was filled with trees, forestry, and most importantly, full suburban houses, a sight rarely seen within the 20 mile radius of New York City.

The Jamaica Estates were known for their ostentatious sense of colonialism architecture and obvious boastfulness. Each house was big enough to fit four families by New York standards.

JJ's car started to slow down near a house with white pillars and dark hickory brick. It was a large estate with an even larger front yard. The hedges were obviously trimmed weekly and the grass was cut clean.

Farah stepped out of the car in amazement. She hadn't realized how wealthy JJ was. He didn't have that typical snobbish air to him when she met him. But after seeing where he lived, she could sort of see that he did come from money.

He walked her into his home, being a gentleman all the way by holding the door for her when entering.

In the entrance of his home, a dazzling chandelier sparkled above them, hanging from the open high ceiling. The floor was made of hard wood, not some cheap apartment carpet that Farah was used to feeling between her toes.

JJ asked her to take her shoes off. They had a no shoes policy at his home. Farah's home also followed by this rule. However, JJ offered her a pair of slippers for her to walk in. She hestatnly took them as she thought it was quite strange of him to offer.

He led her into his room upstairs. As they walked, Farah got the sense that JJ's parents were not home. But, she looked around the house and instantly felt as if they were watching them. Family portraits decorated all the walls. Pictures of family reunions and scenic images were placed up the great white walls going up the stairs. Farah gazed at each photo, learning more and more about JJ.

She learned that he played baseball as a child and knew how to play the guitar and saxophone. He also wasn't one to stay in one place for long. In every photo, JJ and his family where in a new city with new friends. He had been to Arizona, Texas, Florida, Japan for a few months, and North Carolina.

As she walked higher up the stairs, she saw an older man and a younger woman all dressed in military uniform.

"Hey JJ, who are these people?"

He turned around to face Farah, "That is my father and my cousin Meghan. Well, she is more like my sister. They both were in the army. Meghan is basically like my dad's daughter although she is my uncle's daughter. It also is kind of the reason why I never lived in one place for a long time. Dad was always moving because of his job."

Farah moved away from the photographs and finally made it up to the second floor of JJ's enormous house.

The second floor was no less grand than the first. There was a lavish media and game room, each with their own separate space. Three of the six bedrooms were on the second floor as well as three of the five baths were also. Farah couldn't stop imagining how JJ's family used all this space. New Yorkers really were all too accustomed to living with space far less livable than many areas. Seeing such openness was given to freak any New Yorker out.

JJ led Farah into his room. As expected, he lived much like the average teenage boy with clothes scattered on the ground and bedding and decocoram in various shades of grey, blue, and black.

He bent over searching for something underneath his bed. His long burly arm reached until his fingertips felt what he desired.

As he shifted his frame from underneath the bed, within his hands he held a small box.