Japhy Part 2

Japhy and I didn't end up jogging too much together.  But when we did it was because the connection loop had come full circle, intertwined.  He and Charlie and Colin.  The boys with frisbees and sparkles in their eyes.

So we would run, sometimes out Mill Creek.  Japhy liked how we would give it everything the last 200 yards or so, just kick and laugh.

One time, when Charlie was out of town at a ski race, I had a ceramics project and I wanted to do shoulder blades.  So, I asked Japhy if I could feel his back.  He had such defined bones.  It was extraordinary.  

Then, there was the time in Reepacheep.  Can't remember what inputs were adding to the fairytale like quality of the night (although I have suspicions it is not safe to disclose).  But I felt Japhy's shin bone, "What is in the water in Deadwood anyways Japhy?"  I said.  His bones were dense and strong, unlike others.

I would trail those bouncing movements like a mother hen.  "Look both ways!"  "Stop, there's a car!"  "Japhy, that's too high, what if you fall."  It irritated him, I know, but it was an impulse, he felt like he was always over the edge, always tilting on the precipice.  That's where he liked to be.

So, I guess it wasn't a "surprise" in the traditional sense, when I called Charlie from Italy and he started crying..."What is it?"  I begged.

And nearly 10 years later, I can't write what he said exactly because it is too much.  An accident, and its not o.k.  I am pulling at my hair.  Colors are too bright.  The trees are crying.  Parts of me, of all of us, are breaking.

And I am coming home now, flying through time zones, crying all the way from Florence to Oregon.  Leaving bits of my Soul scattered across the North Pole.