1.5 | Desert Snow

With things going well at my job and my paintings selling really well, I managed to save up enough money to buy a used but nice vehicle without putting myself in the hole. I was glad that I wouldn’t have to rely on smelly taxi cabs and the company’s crappy carpool any longer.

On my next day off, I called Sammi up and asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery with me. She said she couldn’t due to an important job interview, but she told me that I should go and then call her later to tell her what I thought. I decided that was a better alternative to just sitting at home staring out my window in fear of the water that surrounded me (which had been my original plan.) I wished her good luck on in her interview and hung up the phone.

As I was packing up my guitar to take to the art gallery, I looked out my window and realized it was snowing. Great, I thought. Cos that makes a lot of sense. Lucky Palms is a desert! But oh well … I’m not the one who chooses the weather, or how it acts in what setting.

When I got to the art gallery, the exhibits themselves were closed off because there were new pieces being put up, but I was told I could play my guitar freely in the lobby where a couple of people were sitting around chatting and drinking coffee. I decided to do it – as much as I had been practicing guitar lately, I felt like I’d gotten quite good.

 I was lost in the middle of a composition I had titled “Cold Darkness” when I heard a childish voice jeering me and blowing raspberries. Before I could respond, another voice called out – “Hush up, you brat! This is what I get for giving you coffee!”

I looked up to see a woman and a child, and the child ran away giggling once the woman scolded her.

“I’m really sorry about that,” The woman said as she approached me, her cheeks blushing. “That girl is a handful, but she usually knows better. She’s just had a little too much caffeine.”

“It’s fine,” I said with a small laugh. “Kids will be kids. Is she your daughter?”

“Oh no, I’m just babysitting for a friend!” The woman laughed nervously. “I should have known better than to bring her out in public.”

I laughed again and extended my hand. “My name is Jin.”

“I know.” The woman said, blinking. “We’re neighbours!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Um. We are?” I asked. The only neighbours I had noticed were the older ladies who lived right beside me and sometimes threw loud parties. I assumed the other houses were abandoned.

“Mm-hmm!” She nodded and shook my hand. “My name is Naomi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, formally.” I said. “I’m really sorry, I had no idea you lived close to me…”

“Right across from you!” She grinned. “Your penguins are adorable, by the way.”

I was still a bit in shock. How could this woman have lived across from me this whole time and I never know it? “Uh, thanks.” I murmured. “I’ve never even seen you out and about …”

“Cos she’s a zombie obsessed weirdo who stays locked in her basement!” The little girl yelled from some unknown location, and Naomi made a face.

“Shut it, you loon! At least I don’t have a crush on the school bully!” She shouted back. That quieted the kid. Naomi then sighed and looked at me. “But um yeah, that’s pretty much it. The brat’s right.” She shrugged, and I laughed softly. “The rest of the time I’m at work.”

“Well um … it never hurts to be prepared.” I told her.

“Wow, you think so?!” Naomi’s brown eyes got big as she spoke. “I mean, obviously I know that, but most people just assume I’m a nut case and don’t even bother seeing the sense in it …”

“I don’t think you’re a nut case.” I said, and I meant it. She didn’t come off as crazy, she just believed in something and wanted to be prepared in case it happened. And she could be right for all I knew. Besides, I was a guy who was currently living his second life with help from my dead wife. I wasn’t one to judge who was a nut case and who wasn’t. “I hope you have plenty of canned goods. That’s a survivalist staple, right?”

“Yes!” She almost squealed, and then calmed herself down. “Canned goods, dry foods, stuff that doesn’t go bad, ya know? I’ll have to get a list of your favourites so I can stock up. You’re one of the few people I’ll allow in my bunker when the time comes.” She grinned.

I laughed. “Well thanks, Naomi. I think that might be the nicest offer I’ve gotten since I’ve moved here.”

Naomi smiled and I took notice of the fact that … well, she was really pretty. Not that I was interested in women at all, but as an artist I couldn’t help but notice beauty. Sammi was pretty too, but Naomi was a different kind of pretty. A beautiful kind. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to paint her, but I quickly brushed that thought aside.

Naomi was about to speak when the little girl she had been babysitting ran out the museum door shrieking with laughter, without her jacket on.

“Augh!” Naomi groaned. She looked at me and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I gotta go. I’ll see ya around, Jin!” She called before grabbing the little girls’ jacket and running after her. “Sophia, get back here!”

I watched her chase the little girl through the snow, laughing softly to myself, before I returned to my guitar playing.

It was dark when I returned home and there was a letter in the mailbox. One lone letter from my dead wife.

“Jin,

It’s Christmastime. You’ve always loved this time of year – don’t let our deaths stop you. At the very least, hang those pretty lights you always liked. I remember that was your favourite part … not the presents or the silly songs … just the pretty lights. Remember how you’d finish hanging them on the house and we’d stand outside and look at them while you held me?

Merry Christmas, Jin.
Yours, Ginger.”

I hadn’t even thought of it being Christmastime, but it was. And I did love the lights.

When I finished, I stood outside and looked up at them. Only I didn’t have a wife to hold, so I held her letter tightly in my hands and wished like hell that things could be different.