LOSS... 

By Tessa Harvey

    "Call us Jean and Will if you like, son," smiled his grandfather. "You were  unconscious a long time, Jack. We were worried. Were you dreaming?" Jean looked concerned. 

    The sun was sparkling through the hospital window and Jack felt a familiar panic rising. "Could I come home with you, please? I get claustrophobic in small enclosed spaces not being able to see a door properly. Please, I will behave."

    Will popped out to talk to the doctor. Soon he returned, smiling. "They agree. There is no more concussion. But wait for a wheelchair and we have to collect meds for pain from the hospital pharmacy."

    Jean gathered his few clothes. The French nurse came with a wheelchair and drove it jauntily to the bedside. "All in for a trip to Paris," he joked, "op in! Last one up the Eiffel Tower is a pussycat." They all laughed.

    "I have a dream to share," whispered Jack to Will and Jean as they left.

    As they drove up to the place where Jack had lived for four years, he found it was hard to hold back tears. Roses of pink, white, yellow, red glowed like jewels. He could see spikes of ruby raspberries where he and his sister had pretended they were in a green jungle eating delicious rare fruits. A small half feral kitten had played there, a funny little tabby who kept peering at them from various angles in the abundant foliage. Once he had even hung upside down before scampering away - leaves, branches swaying, dappling them with sunshine. There was such an abundance of fruit. They had even saved some on nasturtium leaves for their grandparents.

    Of course there had been days of blustery wind, scattering rain, frosty dragon breath. They walked to the front door, Jack limping slightly, wincing at his sore ribs.

    An elderly neighbor waved from her window. Jack had learned to ride on her lawn, teetering on his bicycle.