Journey of a Cotton Blossom. Jennifer Crocker-Villegas
side and crinkled his forehead with a look of puzzlement.
What does he mean they never leave? I am free, and I can do as I please, he thought to himself with an indignant tone echoing in his head.
He decided to ask the boy. “What do you mean, they never leave?”
The boy took a quivering breath and responded, “You see, it’s like they get stuck there. There are these invisible chains that are chained so tightly, you can’t never leave.”
Invisible chains? How can you have invisible chains? Joseph wondered. Nothing this boy was saying made any sense. There must be something wrong with him. Maybe he had a little something to drink, or maybe he is just crazy.
Joseph kept all this to himself and tried not to let his face show his feelings of judgment and mockery. He told the boy, “My mama is there, and I have to go get her.”
The boy nodded his head back and forth slowly as if he felt sorry for Joseph and was disappointed in him. He looked Joseph in the eye with a bit of sadness. “Good luck. I guess I’ll be seein’ you again,” he said in a whisper as soft as a faint rustling in the distance.
Be seeing me again? No matter. He was not going to fixate on that for too long. He was on a mission: Operation Save Mama. He did not have patience or time to fixate on someone’s craziness.
As he was leaving to walk off, the boy said, “By the way, I’m William.”
Joseph stopped and turned. He looked into William’s tattered and worn little face. “I’m Joseph, but I am leaving after I get my mama.”
Joseph was somewhat defensive over William’s insinuation that they would meet again. That went against his whole plan, and to veer from the plan was not acceptable in Joseph’s book. He hadn’t diligently worked on this plan for it to fail him now. What in the hell is this boy talking about? Joseph just stared at him with perplexity. William could see the confusion in Joseph’s face, but he offered no further explanation.
They both turned and headed in their separate directions. Joseph continued in the direction that William had pointed out to him. As he turned and began to walk, he continued to think, What does he mean, they get stuck? Invisible chains? He could not shake those statements even though he tried. No matter; he was on his way to go unstick his mama, no matter what that crazy boy had said.
The closer he got to the senator’s house, the more excited and anxious he became. His pace got increasingly faster. He was so close to breaking into a run. Then, like an image from a dream, there it was before him—the thing he had been walking toward for the past three days. On the left was the huge flag, flying strong in the breeze. Its red, white, and blue waved in the sky, the X-shaped stars rippling on top of the waves. It was almost as if the flag were clapping upon his arrival as it popped in the wind. It was the flag William had told him to seek out. It was attached to a large, slightly tarnished metal pole buried deep in the ground.
The flag was on the corner of a gravel driveway by the road, as if its job were to welcome you when you arrived. After days of walking, he had reached his destination. He stopped to take a deep breath and relish in the moment. This was a huge accomplishment for a boy who had lived his entire life controlled. He had broken out to seek what he had always dreamed of: his mother and freedom. He felt proud in this moment of accomplishment. He had made it all on his own.
As he rounded the corner into the driveway, he saw this magnificent house. The yard was covered with elaborate gardens and extraordinary flowers. There were enormous white columns in the front of the house. The stature of these columns was such that it seemed as if they could have supported the entire structure all on their own. There seemed to be a great level of order at this house, apparent from the first glimpse. Everything had a place. The entire outside of the senator’s residence and the yard were pristine.
Joseph was ready to sprint up that stretched driveway when the strangest and most unexpected thing happened. When he took his first step, he felt a chill come over his entire body. It felt like a hand was on his chest and was physically pushing him backward off the driveway and back onto the road. It was an intense pressure like he had never experienced. No matter the order that was seemingly seeping from this estate, all it did to Joseph was place his body and emotions into complete chaos. It appeared tranquil but felt like turmoil. What could it be? He attempted to shake off these feelings as he had previously tried to do with William’s statements. He wanted to keep moving forward, and he was able to do so, but a distinct heaviness weighed on him.
He desperately wanted all that he had imagined to come true. He wanted it so badly that he was willing to ignore all the warning signs and even alter reality in his mind to fit his agenda. He was searching for signs that would fit the expectation he had for this day—any sign. A hint of hope was all he needed.
He then scanned the yard with one sweep of his head, searching for the large oak tree that hosted his mother. She was supposed to be right there, swinging in the wooden seat tied by ropes from a stout, sturdy branch protruding from the tree’s body, as he had imagined. Suddenly, there it was. The large oak tree was right where he had envisioned it. His mother was nowhere to be found, however; just for a second, he’d thought he saw the swing hanging there. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed there was no swing at all—it was just a lone rope dangling in the air.
What he had envisioned was quite conflicting, to say the least. One rope would have held memories of childhood fun and innocence. The other rope held only memories of screams, hatred, evil, death, and sadness. It held such a disturbing level of fear and intimidation just hanging there, slowly swaying in the wind. Was this the point—to strike fear and intimidation in him? Joseph had always heard stories, but in his lifetime, he luckily had never come into contact with one of these ropes being used for what it had been purposed: vile murder.
What is it doing there? Maybe it is just for show, Joseph thought. He had seen people hang these in their yards or somewhere on their vehicles as a form of “decoration.” Joseph felt they were trying to strike fear into people to prove dominance, but he knew it just proved ignorance.
As repulsive and distressing as it was, Joseph did not want to see it for that. He was still trying to be positive, and he was searching diligently for the bright side. That was assuming that you could see something not of pure darkness in this situation, but Joseph, in a sense, just burrowed his head into the sand and refused to see the negative. He only wanted to see what would support his mission. That noose did not fit into his plan. His desire to meet his mother overruled all logic. He quickly brushed off all the signs that were right in front of him and kept walking toward the house.
Sometimes in life, you are shown all the right signs, but you ignore them anyway. You have to open your eyes and your mind to see them. These were not the types of signs Joseph wanted, so he chose to proceed blindly, pursuing his plans. He was too invested in his emotional state to see what needed to be seen in that moment. His eyes were sealed shut.
No matter what emotions and sensations Joseph attempted to suppress, he couldn’t deny that things felt so strange here. There was an unnatural presence about the place. You could almost hear the silent screams in the wind. He spotted a few shifty eyes lurking from behind corners and from within the cotton fields. He had imagined that he would immediately recognize his mother. No one looked familiar, and no one seemed as friendly as he had imagined. Everyone seemed downright creepy because of their silence and skulking. It felt like he was walking into a dragon’s den. Everyone was hiding and remaining quiet to keep the dragon sleeping so it would not awake and destroy the village. It was the most eerie feeling he had ever felt.
All of a sudden, Joseph felt a strong sensation of panic. His fear and intuition were starting to break through his bullheadedness. His pace slowed tremendously as he tried to process it all. Maybe I should turn around. Maybe I should listen to that boy, William.
Just as he turned his head, looking back at the road while contemplating the idea of leaving and running far away, he heard a boisterous voice call out. “Hello there, boy! Can I help you?”
Joseph whipped his head back around, looking toward the house. All