Episode 62 - Possibilities

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  Welcome back to the podcast. And to all the uncertainty that comes with it, to the questions I can’t answer and the ones I won’t. To the details I don’t have and those that don’t seem to fall into place. Welcome back to an imperfect story that seems to be trying so hard to be something more. 

It is what it is, I suppose. Not that I fully know what I mean by that.

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I have no clue what other hints I could give you to help find this show. But I think you know that. I know you know I never had a bunch of details to offer because I told you as much. I told you I was young, my memory was weak, and very few things were consistent. This episode felt more realistic than some of the others, but that doesn’t mean anything. Some of the quests took place in a cartoony sort of world where the laws of physics were mere suggestions on how the world shouldn’t be. Some were colored in with a more crayon-type texture or simple color blocks. Others were composed of expertly constructed blends of carefully shaded colors. The styles varied greatly. Consistency went against the show’s very nature. Which–now that I say it–likely contributed to the show’s decline. 

  How do you sell something that doesn’t have a cohesive identity? How do you persuade someone to care about what they don’t understand? Should you?

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  Their home was a home. That much was clear when the three of them entered the front room. The man led them inside after taking the key that Jade made and unlocking the door. He stepped in without hesitation or anything like an apology for the mess. And there was the mess,  but it was just a part of where they were. It was a part of their home, not unlike any other.

  Jade stepped in after him, pushed or encouraged–maybe I want to say–by the woman who falled after her with a close step and immediately pulled the door shut behind her. She moved with a haste that an adult viewer might notice but a child wouldn’t understand. A child would think of the times an adult would be eager to get out of the weather–rain, cold, or excessive heat. So to them, it would seem normal. It was the sort of thing a child wouldn’t question. They wouldn’t think about the weather outside not requiring that sort of withdrawal. They wouldn’t think about all the pieces that just didn’t line up.

  Instead, Jade was consumed by this new building, this home she was being brought into. And there was a lot to look at. There was no formal entryway, and that front room was cluttered with the touches of life that one would expect in them. But with it being a fantasy type setting, there were other types of clutter besides the various papers, books, and other miscellaneous items. There was a cauldron by the fireplace. In the vases placed around the room, there were flowers and long vines that reached out and wrapped around table legs, the vase itself, and the exposed wooden beams in the walls and ceiling. It wasn’t the open concept sort of place you see all the time on TV in those home makeover shows nowadays. There were plenty of walls marking off the rooms and giving the space shape and structure. 

  Of course, at the time, it was normal for buildings to be that way. It was the fashion of the day bleeding into the television show. So don’t think much about it. It was just a product of the times. 

  But it does mean that when the man disappeared into another room, Jade couldn’t see him or where he went. It means that Jade didn’t have any clue what else was in that home outside of the rooms that she was brought into.

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I don’t really promote this podcast. Maybe you’ve noticed. Maybe that acknowledgement calls to mind how it was you found this show, the very specific story I’m sure you could tell and how you ended up listening to this audio file. 

  And most people would say that’s a mistake. Even if you know your creative product only has a limited appeal, those who it would appeal to need you to advertise your show so they can find it, especially in the modern day sea of media choices that we all face. You have to at least offer, even if you’re alright with someone not taking you up on that offer. Even if you don’t feel compelled to have a large audience, you should still seek out some sort of audience, right? 

  But I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to try to pull anyone in or if that’s the right thing to do, even.

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  The woman kept Jade’s hand firmly gripped in her own as she pulled her through the home. She didn’t aggressively yank Jade’s arm, but there was tension in the grip. It was stern and unwavering, and that was magnified by the woman’s silence. Her face was blank. 

  But maybe there was a reason for that, though. Maybe she didn’t need to worry about her face or the expression or how it looked if no one was going to see it. The man was off doing whatever he was doing, and the woman wouldn’t bother to look at the girl. Much like before, the woman was in her own little world as she navigated the tight hallways of her home. 

  It felt like she was walking forever. It felt like this was a long walk full of twists and turns. It felt like a maze, but it couldn’t have been a maze. The sequence was too quick. There weren’t enough frames for that. And we saw the building out front. It wasn’t that large. There was no reason to think this was some sort of magical twist of reality. 

But I don’t know that for sure, do I? I can’t be sure. I can’t remember it well enough. It was too long ago.

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  I’d rather be writing than doing anything else, really. I especially prefer it to talking about my writing or trying to get anyone to care about it. Why? I think it’s because of my relationship to the things I make. So many of them are influenced by my life. My pain seeps out onto the pages. And do you know why that is? 

  Okay, I might have worded that badly. 

  Everyone has a different relationship with their art form and the way they express the things that bother them. For me, writing is the only place where I dive into these issues, and it’s only when I’m writing that I’m willing to think about them. 

  Yes, I compartmentalize a lot. No, I don’t know if it’s good or bad to do as much. Honestly, I think it’s a little of both. I think this issue, like so many others, is incredibly complex. There’s a time and place for one, and another set for another. There’s situations where one might help and another might hurt. Life is complex. Circumstances are as well. 

  So I don’t know if my reaction is okay. I don’t know if this compartmentalizing is helping or hurting my mental health. I know that it’s not great for my writing life or career, if I have one, to not be willing to advertise or promote my work at all. And the thing about being an independent creator is that you have to do that. For all its benefits or virtues, it does mean that the entirety of marketing your work and other various administrative tasks falls almost exclusively on your shoulders. There’s a fair bit of it that you won’t know how to do, but you still have to figure it out. Or you don’t, and you suffer some nondescript consequence. Whatever it might be.

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“Are you tired?” the woman suddenly asked. 

  Her voice wasn’t so shrill or harsh right then. It was neutral or somewhat calm, in fact. It was the sort of voice that you would trust simply because there was no reason not to. It didn’t make a good argument, but it didn’t push you away. And that was enough. It’s often enough. We just don’t think about that, do we? Maybe we don’t want to.

  Jade looked up at the woman. Her eyes were wide. She was focused, but no more than I think any child would be when an adult is trying to have a conversation with them. It’s that invitation into something bigger than you. It’s an invitation that you aren’t normally extended into a space that is normally kept from you. It’s a sign that you are valued in a way that children often aren’t. 

  So of course, Jade accepted it. Of course, she raised her shoulders. She went through the same motions that children often do to want to look bigger than themselves, to seem more adult. It’s a performance that is easy to see through, but children don’t know that. 

  To the question, Jade did not nod or react much. The woman wasn’t looking at her anyway. The woman was still leading her, and Jade–hand still locked in the woman’s–followed without a complaint. 

  They had been to the small room Jade would be residing in. 

  “It’s yours,” the woman had said. “Do whatever you want with it.”

  The offer was simple, straightforward. No strings were introduced in the sentiment. There were no limitations explicitly said. And maybe an adult watching could have picked up some nuance there, some hidden charge or limitation, but a child certainly couldn’t. A child wouldn’t think twice. She would just take out her pack of crayons, all the many colors, and build a room for herself exactly like she would dream. 

  Jade started with the bed. There was already one in the room, but it was made of a bare frame and mattress. It needed a bit more if it was going to be a child’s bed. It needed sheets, obviously. Jade drew those with a pink crayon, but then she took a swatch of other colors to build out the bed frame. She gave it character and life, or rather, she gave it more than a few flowers. It wasn’t quite an endless sea of blooms. That would have meant drowning in the flowers, especially for someone so small. 

  To top it off, Jade pulled out a blue crayon and drew a not so small teddy bear for the bed. For a child’s comfort, there’s no need to hold back, especially when one considers how Jade’s life had been or where she was right then. Jade stopped and restarted a time or two. It was the sort of process that required a great deal of care and focus. 

And all the while, the woman watched, a small smirk on her face as she got a true sense of what Jade could do.

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  I need to talk about my writing to keep doing it, though. Or so I fear. But I don’t even know anymore. The writing can be hard enough. Why should I add more layers to it? How can I?

  It will help you explain to people what you are really talking about, you might want to say. It would mean you don’t have to let the slow burn burn so slowly. Or is that my point? Maybe it isn’t.  I don’t know anymore. I’d have to think about my writing more than I want to. 

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  “What do you think?” the woman said.

  She hardly looked at Jade. The child didn’t matter to her. The girl had never mattered to her. She was just a part of the plan, a piece of the whole. 

  “Just a tray,” the woman said, as she pulled the bottle out from wherever she had hidden it. “I’ll make his drink. We’ll be a team, okay?”

  Okay, Jade seemed to say. Without saying a single word.

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Aishi Online is a production of Miscellany Media Studios. It is written, produced, performed, and edited by MJ Bailey with music from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. If you like the show, please leave a review, tell a friend, or post about it on some mysterious online forum. You do you.