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Arlana waited in vain for an apology so instead, she sent her sister a simple message apologizing for the fight - for her part in it. She knew things would never be the same, yet life is short and she wanted no regrets.
Genealogy was turning out to be a fascinating new hobby. Had Arlana known it would offer her an escape from her present circumstance, she would have researched her family tree much sooner.
She wracked her brain for any memories which might contain a clue regarding even just one of her grandparents. Still, there were no results. Just a little frustrating, but surely they could not have entered the world and departed without a trace.
Our lives are as a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow. That Scripture had greater significance now. How frequently we view our sufferings as insurmountable but they truly aren't when looking down from a bird's eye view. Here today and gone tomorrow without a trace. Would that be her legacy? The tears long forgotten, yet no trace left on the course of history? Nothing to show for her life?
Arlana's mood had changed. She was somber, reflective, her eyes often gazing off into the distance while her mind wandered roads long since forgotten.
Arlana had no one to talk with. Such had been her existence for six very long years. Sure, she spoke with her son, but just how much could she tell him? Her new hobby was just a little advanced for a four-year-old who had only just met his grandparents that summer. He barely knew his relatives. It wasn't right and yes, she wanted to change everything.
So many "If only's".
"Do you know what Mummy's been doing Aziel?"
"No, what?"
"I'm trying to find some family. You know...great uncles and aunts and cousins we don't know about. Wouldn't it be so nice if they lived close to us and we could have friends?"
"Will they have little kids for me to play with?"
"I'm not sure, Honey, but I think they might. I'm really excited about the possibility."
For most of the time, before he had to go to work, Jorken would squat on the end of his couch lost in a computer game. He only bothered to look up when he would bark at Arlana, Aziel or Marmaluke for doing something wrong - even as innocent as just glancing in his direction.
Theirs wasn't an ideal life, but hopefully, that life would soon come to an end and they could embark on the next phase of their lives: Freedom.
The difficulty was that Jorken wasn't going to work today. There was no countdown until he would be leaving. They'd have to endure until they went to bed, then begin the countdown until he left for work the following day. Arlana sincerely wished he would just set up a tent at work and stay there. How fabulous their life would be!
Jorken had radar hearing this morning. He snapped his head up, "Who are you having over?"
"No one...yet. I'm just hoping I can have friends, and if they are related, you can't say anything."
Jorken ground his teeth, but couldn't come up with a rebuttal.
Arlana sighed, her relief palpable.
****
SEVERAL HOURS LATER after Aziel was fast asleep, Arlana continued to study records of her ancestors. There were two voting records for her grandfather on her mom's side. That was a huge deal. Ignoring Jorken, she slowly looked at pictures of her great grandfather stored on her USB stick. He had passed away more than fourteen years before. These documents seemed to erase the years, a surge of emotion washing over her. Memories, long forgotten, welled up with tears in her eyes.
"What are you doing?" Jorken demanded for a second time.
Arlana whisked away tears, grateful for the shadowy light. She didn't need him ridiculing her - not now.
Jorken wouldn't let it rest. "I said, what are you doing?"
What was his insistence for? Perhaps it was the golden liquor in his glass mug that made him more interested in her than usual.
"My family tree."
He stood up from his perpetual position on his couch and kneeled before her. Arlana flinched, repelled at his nearness. If there had been any love between them, it had long since died.
Oblivious to the cold chill radiating up Arlana's vertebrae, Jorken continued, "I want you to make a family tree for me. You don't know what it is like to experience death..."
"Yes, I do. My grandparents died and I loved them."
In a second, he vaulted off the floor, jabbing his finger in her face, "Unless you witness the death of a parent, you don't understand sorrow. How dare you assume to know how I feel!"
He refused to acknowledge the fact that he wouldn't speak to his father until a few hours before the man died. Arlana wasn't judging, but she had been much closer to her grandparents.
"You didn't even talk to him - and you're doing the same thing with your family. Your brother was in the hospital for a week and you can't be bothered to call him."
"Shut your mouth! How dare you talk about my family!"
And for the next three hours, Jorken wept, recounting once again in detail his father's final hours. She knew the story well - having lived through it from a distance.
He'd rammed a clenched fist in her face when she'd suggested he call his dad. Within two weeks he lay dying in the cancer ward. While the family, including his brother's girlfriend, gathered on the 7th floor, she wasn't allowed to leave the waiting room on the main floor. A deserted waiting room.
Jorken didn't stand up for her, instead only acknowledging her when he stepped out of the hospital for a cigarette. Things hadn't been good between them for months, but this wasn't helping. And now he was reliving that event in excruciating detail.
Arlana glanced down at her laptop screen, hoping to work on her family tree - wishing he wouldn't notice. Was it so crazy to feel he was wasting her evening - the precious few hours she had to herself?
Of course, he noticed, "How dare you look down when I'm speaking to you! You don't care. You don't know true sorrow. Shut your f'n laptop!"
"It's my night" she murmured, her protest useless, "I think you should talk with my dad. He watched his mother die. He would understand."
Jorken couldn't say anything.
"Fine."
Eventually, he sat back down, his tear-blurred eyes focusing in vain on his tablet's screen. It was past midnight and Arlana dragged herself up the stairs.
Within the hour, the nightmares came to stay.
****
JORKEN DIDN'T SEE IT coming. Arlana wanted to strike while the iron was hot - before he had a chance to forget last night's conversation. She couldn't take it anymore. Jorken even acknowledged he took his father's death out on her. Well, if anyone could help, it was her dad.
"I can't take it, Dad. He's grieving and taking it out on us. Will you please talk to him?"
"Sure. I was just playing that worm word game on the computer. Remember it?"
"Wow. I'd forgotten all about it! Okay, I'll pass the phone in a second. Love you Dad."
"You too."
Arlana made her way down the stairs, stopping to stand in front of Jorken. He was close to levelling up in his online game and wouldn't appreciate the interruption, but something had to be done.
"Who is it?" Jorken didn't bother to look up.
"Dad."
Ice blue eyes bore holes into hers. "I don't think so!"
"Don't be so rude," and with that she shoved the phone in his hand, turning to leave the room.
He snarled, gritting his teeth at her.
Arlana called out, "Aziel, let's play doctor in your room."
It would keep him distracted and quiet, although, in Arlana's version, it really should have been called "Spa Day '' where she clipped Aziel's nails before giving him a foot massage.
Arlana sighed, "Alright Sir, welcome to my hospital. I'm Doctor Dumbledore. Let's see what's wrong with you, shall we?"
Aziel giggled, wriggling beneath the blankets.
"What are you going to do first? Can you start with petting my hair? But just make sure you pretend you are doing an operation."
"Sure," Arlana agreed, straining to hear what Jorken was saying downstairs.
****
ONE HOUR LATER, JORKEN joined them upstairs. Arlana was busy performing "surgery" on her son's feet.
Jorken sidestepped Aziel's bedroom, choosing instead to feed their Betta fish - all ten of them. This would take forever as he went from tank to tank. Why wouldn't he just tell her?
Moments later, he stood in the bedroom doorway. "I had a good talk with your dad."
'"That's good" Arlana didn't look up, but the nail clippers slipped in her hand.
"Your dad had a lot to say about you."
"Really?" Arlana looked back over her shoulder, "Like what?"
"He says you are a complainer. Always complaining about everything."
Arlana bit her bottom lip hard, drawing blood yet unwilling to give Jorken the satisfaction of a reaction.
Her father saw her as a complainer? The hurt was deep. He didn't live her life - didn't want her to leave. As her parents had made abundantly clear on their last visit - she must stay or Jorken most likely would never be saved, and his blood was on her hands.
Arlana had never felt so completely alone than when Jorken told her what her father thought of her. It was a devastating blow to her spirit.
****
ARLANA EMAILED HER dad and thanked him for talking with Jorken, omitting that she knew his opinion of her. Instead, she talked about her family tree project. Did he remember his uncles that used to visit? Were they his mom or dad's brothers? She spoke of the brevity of life - how he'd always said that it didn't matter if you only ever ate fruit, when your time came, that was it. It is appointed unto man once to die and after that the judgment.
For the remainder of the day, she refreshed her email like a fool, and then at 9 p.m. her father's reply came.
Family trees are a waste of time. The only thing that is important is for you to teach Aziel the Word of God.
Arlana typed a quick reply, then clicked send:
Yes, teaching him the Word of God is important and I am, however, I feel that there is no harm in researching the past. I think it is important to remember where we come from. Besides, I'm homeschooling and I can incorporate it into Canadian history. Anyway, it is something I want to do.
Thanks again for talking with Jorken today. I love you all.
~ Arlana ~
Closing her email, Arlana opened up the genealogy website. There must be something.