30. Sun in Your Eyes

July 4 arrives with a clear sky and a refreshing morning sun. The rest of my Sunday was uneventful, including not seeing Mom at all. Part of me wonders if she even knows what I did on Saturday night. Part of me wonders if she remotely cares. But it’s 8:00 a.m., and she’s still asleep and thankfully isn’t messy.

Awaiting me on the table, lit by sun leaking through the blinds, is a box.

I get closer and see it’s an iPhone.

Just like the latest model I was looking at in Best Buy.

For a second I look around the room, then I glance at the door. It’s locked. But that doesn’t matter. Locked doors don’t matter in a place like Solitary.

I open the box, and instead of the phone being wrapped up in packaging, it’s ready to go with only a small sticky note on its black surface.

For a moment I think it’s from Mom. An apology of sorts, a bribe maybe. Something to make up for yesterday and the days and nights before.

But no.

I read the short note.

One less thing you have to worry about—being out of touch.

Your friend, J. M.

I pick up the phone and see that it’s charged. I slide it on and see that it’s loaded and ready.

Then I notice my hand shaking.

Throw it away toss it in the creek down below.

But I just keep holding it.

Sun streaks through the room, bright slivers making me squint my eyes.

I look and see that there’s a text from somebody.

I open it up.

RELIEF CAN ONLY COME WHEN YOU FULLY LET GO.

It’s from him, of course. From J. M.

What have I done?

I shut the phone off and slip it into my pocket.

The Chris from last month would have found the pastor and tried to make him eat this phone. But not today’s Chris.

It’s a phone. It’s a gift. And it’s mine.

I get my motorcycle keys.

It’s time to get out of here and see what kind of fireworks I can find.

Then I think of something else. I run upstairs and grab the phone number that Lily gave me.

The blurry, mostly blank snapshot still sits on my desk. It’s almost a reminder of a guy I used to be. Someone who slowly disappeared.

I’ll take a new snapshot today. One of Lily and me. And I’ll take it with this phone.

I head out.