Final
SolitaireThe first time was an accident.
Joy had walked out of her office building, cursing her workload but relieved the day was over, and barely stopped to look both ways when she crossed the street and almost got hit by a truck.
In her defence, the light was green.
Maybe.
Point was, it was an accident, and Joy had zero intention of dying.
“Still alive, huh.”
Joy blinked at the woman staring down at her. “Wow, rude.”
The woman shrugged and checked her nails. ing rude.
“I’m so so sorry, you alright there?” A man rushed to his side.
“No, you almost killed me.” Joy accepted his hand and stood. Her legs almost gave out. “She was right though, don’t know how I’m still alive. You came out of nowhere.”
“She?”
“Can’t you see her right here? I’m the one who should have a concussion, not you.”
He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Jesus, are you blind?”
“Better stop now,” the rude woman said. “He’ll think you’re crazy.”
Joy spent the next 5 minutes trying to convince him that no, they weren’t alone, and this woman certainly existed because she was standing right next to Joy and Joy wasn’t high or in trauma but the guy drove Joy to the hospital and Joy feigned ignorance at the doctor to avoid being admitted into a mental ward.
So yeah, that was how Joy almost died and met Irene.
“Are you a grim reaper? Because that’d be really cliche.”
“I wish,” Irene didn’t look up from her perfectly manicured nails. “Unfortunately, I’m your guardian angel.”
“I thought guardian angels were supposed to be cheery.”
Irene shrugged. “Sorry to let you down, I do that with everyone.”
///
The second time was not an accident.
Joy wouldn’t consider herself a daredevil, but when she had a guardian angel by her side who almost guaranteed she would come out alive no matter what, it was kind of hard not to test it out. So she tried one of the oldest methods.
“Wow,” Joy said, breathless. “Thanks.”
Irene had the same look of a person watching grass grow. “You’re welcome.”
“So.”
“So?”
“You’re the real deal, huh?”
“Obviously.”
“Alright, super.”
Joy pulled herself to her feet, cringing at the mess in her apartment. She staggered her way to the bathroom. Her head pounded, her body ached, her clothes stained beyond salvation. Time for a hot shower.
By the time Joy came out of the shower and put on clean clothes, she looked like a functional human being.
“Want some ice-cream?” Joy asked.
“Sure.”
Turned out Irene liked red bean ice-cream. Figured her guardian angel would have old people taste. Joy went to her favourite ice-cream parlour, ordered one scoop of green tea for herself and two scoops of read bean for Irene, and put her change into the tip jar.
///
The third time just kind of happened.
“Again, Joy?”
Joy coughed, knocking her fist against her chest, eyes watery. “I couldn’t help it.”
Irene sighed, and for some reason, Joy felt like a child who had disappointed her mother.
“Whatever you do, don’t use a gun,” Irene said. “You’ll ruin your pretty face.”
Couldn’t argue with that. “Is there a limit? There has to be a limit of how many times I can survive.”
“Thirteen sounds about right.”
“Just thirteen?”
Irene rolled her eyes. “Better thirteen than one.”
///
The fifth time, Joy woke up in a bathtub.
She went to work, said good morning to the janitor, and laughed at her coworkers’ bad jokes.
///
If someone asked Joy if she had any problems, she would say no. And it was right, she had no problems. Yeah, she had taxes and bills and rent to pay but so did everyone, and it wasn’t a big deal working from 09:00 until 18:00, with a 2-hour drive home, and by the time she collapsed in bed, she was too tired to even watch a movie, and she had to do this 5 out of 7 days, for the next 40 years.
She grabbed a plastic bag.
///
There was an excerpt from a book Joy remembered by heart. But Joy liked to entertain, so she picked up a book from the shelf, flipped to a bookmarked page, and recited the words she had read a hundred times.
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.” Joy batted her eyelashes at Irene. “One fig was a husband—”
Irene scoffed.
“—and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion. And beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.”
Joy paused. She always paused at this part.
“I wanted each and every one of them,” Irene said, head on Joy’s shoulder, peering at the page. “Go on.”
Joy cleared . “But choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
“Dramatic.”
Joy laughed, tossing her book onto the table. “If you were human, you’d understand.”
Irene didn’t reply, and Joy wondered if she had said the wrong thing.
///
The ninth time wasn’t as painful as Joy expected.
Irene opened as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” Irene picked up the rope and tossed it into the trash can. “You.”
“Yeah?”
Irene wrapped her hands around Joy’s neck, squeezed ever so slightly. “What are you doing?”
“Excuse me, you’re the one choking me.”
“I’m not,” Irene let go and the warmth was gone. “I would never..“
Joy looked at her reflection in the mirror. The red mark around her neck wasn’t there anymore.
Irene sighed, running her hand through her perfect hair and making it slightly tousled but Joy thought she looked better this way.
“Did I scare you?”
“No,” Irene’s back was arched instead of straight. “No, you didn’t.”
///
“If I weren’t here, would you still do it?” Irene asked.
Joy topped her pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries. She sliced through the pancakes, satisfied at the seamless cut. “Probably not. Too risky.”
Irene watched her eat, and when Joy offered a bite, Irene shook her head. “I wish you weren’t so reckless.”
“I’m not getting you into trouble, am I?”
Irene smiled. “If I can handle you, I can handle anything.”
For the next thirty days, Joy stayed away from any potentially dangerous activities. Irene didn’t ask why, and Joy didn’t say why.
///
Sometimes, when Joy stared off into space, Irene would hug her from behind, and they would stay like that. And on weekends, when Joy and Irene stayed at home, Joy would wear her favourite lipstick, blow a kiss to Irene, and Irene would roll her eyes. Other times, Irene would ask Joy to have a walk together after working hours, and five out of five times, Joy would say yes.
And Joy felt peace.
///
But Joy was a curious individual, and that was why she took a few too many pills, just a few, and she may have mixed them up a bit, an unreactive combination, and drank a shot of vodka after that.
She woke up the next day, Irene by her side.
“No more pills.”
Joy added pills to her list of ‘things Irene told her not to do again.’
///
By the twelfth time, Joy was getting tired.
“Can you,” Irene said, hand around Joy’s wrist, “can you not do it today?”
“Why?”
“Just,” Irene let go, not meeting Joy’s eyes. “Can we go home? I want to play a card game. You can teach me, right?”
Joy looked at the gushing river underneath, then back to Irene’s face. This was new. Irene never lost her composure.
“Sure,” Joy said. “I’ll teach you how to play Solitaire.”
They stopped by a 24/7 convenience store. Joy bought the cheapest deck of cards, a crease in the box, and walked home with Irene, hand in hand.
“Ready? First, you arrange them.”
Irene nodded, eyes open wide, and Joy resisted the urge to smile. Joy played the first round to demonstrate, and she finished the game in five minutes.
“If I beat this game in less than five minutes,” Irene said, “will you stop?”
“Sure.”
Joy hadn’t meant it, of course, but Irene spent the next few hours playing Solitaire over and over and over, and when Joy woke up, Irene was still playing.
///
“What’s your record?”
“Seven minutes thirty seconds,” Irene said. “Just wait, I’m going to beat you.”
“Really.”
“Really.”
“In that case,” Joy said, running her hand through Irene’s hair, their lips an inch apart. “Hurry up, I’m running out of patience.”
Irene’s eyes flickered to Joy’s lips, then back to Joy’s eyes. “Fine. Just stay out of trouble.”
Joy giggled, tapping Irene’s cheek. “Okay.”
///
Joy thought she was doing great. She stood behind the yellow line while waiting for the train. Looked left and right before crossing the street. Drove under the speed limit. Ordered a book titled ‘How Not to Die’ that preached about, Joy made a face, plant-based diets and although Joy wasn’t eager to to go through all 576 pages, she read at least 2 pages a day.
She was doing great.
But some things were out of her control.
///
The twelfth time, well, it wasn’t like Joy did it on purpose. She never would’ve stabbed herself. Too painful and too slow.
So yeah, she really should’ve minded her own business when she saw a guy in a hoodie not so secretly following a woman, especially when Irene wasn’t here to save her because Irene was at home playing ing Solitaire.
Damn her trying to play hero.
Damn her for breaking her promise to Irene.
Joy shut her eyes, sharp stinging pain in her lower abdomen, blood slipping through her fingers. Was this how she was going to die? After all those articles she read, and all those half-hearted attempts to off herself, and now she was going to die for a stranger she didn’t give a damn about?
What a ty way to die.
But.
At least it wasn’t meaningless.
///
Okay, so Joy didn’t die.
“You’re alright, oh, thank goodness you’re alright.”
A woman hugged her a little too strong and, gosh, why was she in so much pain, she just woke up, and, wait, why was she in a hospital bed?
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“Uh, you’re welcome?” Joy patted the woman’s back and pulled away.
“I’m Seulgi.”
Seulgi told Joy the story of how Joy heroically — Irene snorted — saved Seulgi from a mugger armed with a knife. Joy wasn’t blind, and she wasn’t one to use flowery words, but when Seulgi was telling her story with animated movement, props, and silly sound effects, Joy swore she saw stars in Seulgi’s eyes.
“Looks like you have a fan, congratulations,” Irene said, flipping through a fashion magazine. “Try not to be so reckless next time. You’re lucky I found you.”
Joy mouthed ’sorry.’
“If I hadn’t been there,” Irene looked away, putting the magazine down. “Never mind, just rest.”
Joy said “sorry” out loud and when Seulgi gave her a confused look, Joy said she was sorry for spacing out.
///
The next day, Joy received get well soon text messages from her coworkers. A handful of them visited her and brought fruits.They never came back for the second time though. That was understandable, they all had work and personal lives.
Apparently, Seulgi was an exception.
The clock struck 18:00, and the door opened. Joy didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Her doctor always knocked, her nurse came in at 19:00, and Irene never left because she was too busy playing Solitaire.
Seulgi came in, smile as bright as ever, and gave Joy a batch of freshly baked cookies. She talked about a puppy she met on her way here and Joy listened to every word. When visiting hours was over, Seulgi said good night and promised to come again tomorrow.
And she did.
///
Joy’s life didn’t change much. She still had taxes and bills and rent to pay but so did everyone, and it wasn’t a big deal working from 09:00 until 18:00, with a 2-hour drive home listening to the radio, and when she came home, she made dinner with extra vegetables, watched a drama series, and she did this 5 out of 7 days but sometimes she had drinks with her coworkers, and she took up knitting which was surprisingly calming, and on weekends, she went out with Seulgi.
Irene, well, she was always there, whether by her side or in a corner playing with cards.
So it kind of when Irene talked about leaving.
“You don’t need me anymore, do you?”
“Can you stay?”
Irene smiled a little. She handed Joy a deck of cards, that somehow felt heavy, and kissed Joy on the lips so softly and briefly. “I beat your time score.”
Joy couldn’t help but laugh a little. A sad sad laugh. “I shouldn’t have taught you.”
“You have to keep your promise.”
“Technically, I never promised.”
Irene frowned and Joy took that opportunity to catch her off guard with a kiss, a bit rough to make sure Irene was there and much longer than appropriate just so she could convince Irene to stay but that wasn’t happening.
“Is this a yes?” Irene asked.
“The things I do for you.”
“Don’t do it for me,” Irene said, cradling Joy’s cheek in her palm. “Do it for you.”
Joy never considered herself a touchy person, but at this moment, all she could do was hold Irene’s hand, and she did it very gently because Irene deserved this much.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Being alive wasn’t completely terrible.
Author’s note: Take care, everyone! Even when you’re working hard, remember to eat well and sleep well. :)
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