A Journey to a Place Far Away

My name is Jena, and I hate fortune cookies.

I mean, I don't have anything against the taste at all; in that way, they're actually quite good. Nice and crispy, not quite as sweet as a cookie, but too sweet for crackers, they've got a kind of uniqueness about them, and there cheap, too. I used to love to stop and get them by the handful at the Chinese restaurant on my way home from the post office, where my friend had gotten me a part-time job.

Granted, stamp licking isn't one heck of a glamorous job, but it beat the shit out of being broke. And because of my flexible hours, I was able to go straight from school in the afternoons, or make-up time on weekends if Evelyn (my aunt) needed me to watch my sister and/or baby cousin during a weekday when both she and my uncle were going to be working late. Oh, and just for future reference: my sister lives with our uncle and his wife, our aunt, Evelyn.

Why? My family is… complicated. Not broken, per say, just… held together with rubber bands, paperclips, and good 'ol duct tape. Sure, some of the pieces are missing, and it's pretty worn and torn (not just around the edges) but it's my life. And somehow, it works. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah… fortune cookies.

Like I said, I used to stop by the restaurant I could never remember the name of to save my life after work, on my bike, and head to the back door where Li-Jun would be, more often than not, taking the trash out to the dumpsters behind the kitchen. I'd gotten to know Li-Jun pretty well through my late evening cookie-runs, and when she'd see me, she'd smile and her pretty face would be stretched from ear to ear with her brown eyes in slits that made her look the spiting image of her mother, the kind lady who worked the register and handed out free suckers to the younger children. She always knew exactly what I had come for, and usually we'd talk for a while until her brother would yell at her to get back to work. Sometimes she'd manage to get a break, and we would either sit out on the porch steps leading up to the front door, or she might take my inside with her and her grandpa would give us small plates with different samples of food he always made from scratch, like he used to do before the restaurant had to start buying pre-packaged "stuff" because scratch took too long, cost too much, but tasted much better.

I didn't really know Li-Jun's grandfather like I knew her, but I considered anyone who fed me at the very least a good acquaintance.

It was a night like this that I learned to hate fortune cookies forever.

I had just gotten off my shift at the post-office (small town post-office, where they trust a 15 year-old with a key, not that the trust was unearned, but you get the point) and was racing down the hill to Li-Jun's and my cheap cookies. I hadn't eaten since lunch that afternoon, because Sam (my boss who's wife always packs him too much anyway) was off his diet, and had started scarffing down all of Mrs. Sam's home cooking by himself again. I appreciated the pay-check too much to ask (more than twice) for him to share, and so I went hungry. When I pack my lunch, I can usually go with out eating Sam's (if he's being difficult), but when I am forced to eat the toxic waste they serve us in the cafeteria, I'd almost rater starve. Honestly, had I been given the choice of being stuck on the Oregon Trail with those poor starving cannibals up in the mountains, or eating the school slop, I'd take my chances with the Donner's.

I could hear my stomach growl over the wind rushing passed by ears as I nearly flew down the hill toward Li-Jun. I could see her at the bottom, heaving the garbage bags into the open dumpster, her black hair tied in red ribbons in pigtails laying gently across her shoulders. I started to push the pedals on my bike, making myself go even faster than at my previous coast. Li-Jun had tossed the last bag, and had turned just in time to see me flying straight for her at break-neck (or break-less) speed and she smiled and waved enthusiastically.

I stopped pedaling as I reached the bottom of the hill and gently squeezed the handbrakes. I was still going too fast though, as I reached Li-Jun at the restaurant. I jerked the handlebars and skidded around, braking with my foot as I swiveled around, just passed the back door and six feet or so passed Li-Jun.

"Hey," I greeted cheerily and smiled back at her. My hair was a mess, it always was, but I could only guess how much more so from the ride down the hill. I stood straddling my bike with my hand still on the bars.

Li-Jun laughed, "Nice stop, Ace."

I just grinned, too exhausted from the day to reply before her brother came out.

"Li-Jun," He said in a deeply authoritative tone, with his hands on his hips and a glare that did not suit his grease stained, once white apron. "Get back to work. We all have much to do, and I can't waste my time coming out her to get you like this."

"I was talking to my friend," She answered back simply.

And if he'd had any friends, he might have understood. But judging by the overly dramatic way he "kept his sister in line", I could have safely guessed he didn't have any.

He was about to reply to that when their grandfather suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"So you were, Li-Jun, so you were. Right then, Cho, back to work. Li-Jun and her friend are only talking. Perhaps you would like to come in, too girls? That's alright then, come on now, everyone, back inside." There was no arguing with Li-Jun's grandfather, and her brother knew it, so he settled for throwing us both dirty looks before preceding the others inside. Li-Jun's grandfather stood imperiously in the doorway, far enough away that the grumpy one could get through. I got off my bike and leaned it against the side of the building like I'd done a hundred times before, and followed my friend as she walked in through the kitchen.

"Good to see you again, Miss Tashi," He said kindly as I walked through the door.

"Good to see you too, sir," I smiled. He was one of those good kinds of old people, the few that you didn't mind hearing stories about the old days from, or whatever else they felt like talking about.

He nodded, and I walked passed him, following Li-Jun to the table in the back room between the kitchen and main dining area that had come to be known as "our table". We sat down and Mr. Yee stood at the end, hands behind his back and feet apart.

"Would you two lady's be willing to try something different to-night?" He asked.

"Sure, Grandfather," Li-Jun said.

"What is it?" I asked. Not fearfully, really, everything Li-Jun's grandfather made was delicious, but sometimes… "different" was a little too different. Like the time he wrapped sushi in tortilla shells and poured cheese sauce over the top. Li-Jun liked it, but I almost felt like I was going to throw-up my Turkey sandwich from lunch.

"Oh, good recipe, one my grandmother had, very tasty."

"Sounds good to me," Li-Jun could be a little too trusting at times.

"Uhh…" I wasn't so confident. "Sure. Thanks."

"Haven't got it yet," He said as he walked back toward the kitchen. I should have been more worried, but not for the reason I had then.

"That sounded a lot like my grandpa," I said to Li-Jun.

"Grandparents," she shook her head. "They all say pretty much the same thing, don't they?"

"Yeah," I had to agree. "No matter what, the advice is the same."

"Pretty much," She smiled.

We talked a while about nothing in particular, mostly how the day went for each of us, and she told me how her brother had burnt himself on the stove making something earlier that day and their uncle (it's a family business, you see?) had really ripped into him. We both got a laugh out of that one, and it explained why he had been extra grumpy that day.

"So how was your day, Jena?" Li-Jun asked once we had both started breathing again.

"Alright, I guess," I answered unexcitedly. "It wasn't bad or anything, just… dull."

Li-Jun sighed, propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "Pretty much like every other day, huh Hon?"

"Yeah…" I sighed too, and mimicked her elbow-prop, chin-rest without really thinking about it. "Like every other day."

"Hmm…" She closed her eyes. "You know what we need?"

"Enlighten me," I answered.

"We need a vacation," Simple as that.

"Agreed," I said. "When we can afford one, let me know."

"Or at least an adventure," she continued. She opened her eyes. "Where would you go, Ace. If you could go anywhere in the world?"

"New Zealand," I answered flatly.

"New Zealand?" She repeated, confused.

"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes.

"Okay…" She was waiting for an explanation. "Why?"

"They've got more sheep in New Zealand than people. Counting sheep. I might actually get some sleep there."

"Ah, I see." I have terrible insomnia; sleep is yet another one of those luxuries I cannot afford. I could feel Li-Jun's eyes on me, but I chose to ignore the pitying look I knew was there. I didn't need to see it.

"Ah, ha!" Mr. Yee came back with two small plates, one in each hand. He placed them in front of us (we had straightened up). Sitting on each delicate platter, there were two fortune cookies, but not the cheap ones I came for every night, these were different. Little did I know then just how different.

"OH!" Li-Jun cried. "Grandfather, thank you!"

"Thank you again, Mr. Yee." I honestly couldn't wait. I have to tell you, I'd never had home-made fortune cookies before.

"Nothing, nothing," He protested expressively. "It was nothing, Li-Jun, Jene."

He never said "Jena", it was always "Jene", but I never minded much.

"These are amazing, Jena," Li-Jun gushed. "You haven't lived until you've had one of these. We usually don't get them, except on birthdays."

"And special occasions," Mr. Yee amended with a smile.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, no warning flares going off yet.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he waved it off. "Good friend of Li-Jun for almost a year now, and never have you had real fortune cookie."

"A real fortune cookie, huh?" I said, not believing or taking it seriously.

"Yes, Jena," Li-Jun said seriously. "These fortunes aren't like the ones from the stores, these ones always come true."

Li-Jun's grandfather nodded. "Always."

I didn't say anything. It was their belief, not mine, so I just kept quiet.

"Eat, eat, girls," Mr. Yee motioned animatedly. "Enjoy."

"You first, guest." Li-Jun smiled.

I took the first cookie off the hand-painted plate and broke it in half. I pulled the paper out of one side and stuck the other half in my mouth.

I have to say, it was good. No, better; it was the best desert I'd ever had in my life. Banana cream pie and strawberry cheesecake where put to shame. It wasn't that it was especially… I don't know how to describe it, it was almost magical.

That should have been a big clue if nothing else was. But I'm just too dense for stuff like that.

"Well, read it," Li-Jun said.

I looked down and read aloud, "'You will receive an unexpected gift from an acquaintance.' That doesn't sound so bad."

Mr. Yee nodded.

"Alright, my turn," Li-Jun opened hers and then we opened the last one together. "'You are going to receive an unforeseen phone call.' Okay then."

"Jene?" Mr. Yee waited patiently.

"'You will take a journey to a place far away.' New Zealand?"

"You never know, Jena. Maybe it's your vacation!" Li-en exclaimed.

Yeah, vacation, right…

I didn't stay much longer that night, it was getting dark and I had to get home before the sun set or I'd never find my way. So I shoved my fortunes in my pocket, got on my bike and waved to Li-Jun and Mr. Yee as I rode off. I had just made it to the end of the main road and the sun was disappearing fast. There was a long, pact dirt road that eventually leads to my driveway, but there were shorter, faster trails I'd taken hundreds of times before through the woods. They were wide enough for two to three people to walk comfortably together and bike riding friendly. It wasn't like I hadn't done it before, anyway.

And yet, I still should have known better. I'd never taken the trails this late, and even though there was a chance I could get home before dark, I could have probably still followed the road the short distance home. Too bad you never think of these things when it's really important, huh?

So I took the trail, and was going along just fine, no hitch no bump no trump. Donald, that is. Okay, bad joke, but I couldn't think of anything else that rhymed. I was ridding along just fine, anyway. I could hear the leaves crunching beneath the wheels, and the gears of the bike clattering. The wind felt good on my flushed face, and I felt it blow through my still messy ponytail. It didn't matter; I was just going to bed once I got home anyway. I'd fix it in the morning before school, like always. Like always… I got to thinking about my dull, everyday schedule, how the most variation I could look forward to was what crap they were trying to pass off as food today in the cafeteria, and wonder how many times they'd killed it and brought it back to life. And whether it was still living. Or maybe I'd be watching Kim that day, or Ella. But that was it. Dull, boring, my life.

I kept going down the trails. I knew the route by heart and didn't have to think too much about where I was going. It was pretty much down hill from there, anyway. I started thinking then about the six years before that day, how my life never was normal, but at least it worked. I was thinking about that as I coasted down the homestretch, it worked, and it could have been worse. Things could have not settled down for me, they could still be getting worse. Since that day…

I was too lost in my thoughts, I suppose. Because of it, I didn't see the tree branch in my way, only heard the sickening crack and felt my loss of control over the bike. My breath caught in my throat, I saw the tree and threw my hands up. I tried to jump off or at least fall over, but the hem of my jeans was caught in the bike and the way I was leaning would have sent me crashing head first into a sharp rock. All I could do was close my eyes and pray.

I never felt the crash.

Hazy, blurred images swam in my head. Red and black, vague shapes I couldn't quite make out danced before my closed eyes…

Closed eyes. Open your eyes, stupid! I tried, and let out a growl as I quickly closed them again and shielded them from the sun with my arm.

The sun? When did that get there? I rolled on to my side, well… attempted to anyway. The sharp white pain in my head prevented any further movement or thought for quite some time. When I could even consider moving again, all I did was try to open my eyes, slowly this time. I got them open, and blinked a couple of times. I moved my arm carefully back to my side, and my head didn't argue. I stared up, and looked at the clear blue sky, one or two puffy clouds the only thing disturbing the perfect blue. Well, that's nice. It's a beautiful spring day…

Wait. Spring? How the hell- how long was I out for? When I had waken up in my own bed the previous morning, it had been November 24. Fall, not Spring.

The stupidest things you remember when you're delusional; I was at that moment suddenly back in my AP Lit class on the day after the exam, going through the poetry book we had been studying from, and found a limerick by some Anonymous dude.

There once was a man named Paul,

Who fell in the spring in the fall,

T'would have been a sad thing,

Had he died in the spring,

But he didn't. He died in the fall.

Thank you Anonymous.

I closed my eyes again as I became conscious of the pounding in my head. I was too out of it to have notice the fact that there were no trees around me, or trails, or any sign of my bike for that matter. The one I was sure was as mangled as my head felt. I was also too far gone to have noticed the particular softness of the grass I was laying on, which, I assure you, there had been none of on the trails. So I was therefore to preoccupied with other things (namely the pain in my skull) to even consider that I might be dreaming, in a coma in some hospital somewhere with my grandma and… okay, just my grandma- standing there, waiting for me to wake up, or even, possibly, dead.

This last one did strike me eventually though. Just about the same time I noticed the footsteps, ones I hadn't been aware I was listening to, had stopped.

"Are you alright?" A voice asked. Male, I was pretty sure it was, not unpleasant either. It seemed concerned. Heaven knows why…

Good question, I thought, Am I okay? Hmm… Would I still be lying here if I was? Did that stupid tree kill me? No, it couldn't be. Ma' hit trees harder than that going 60 without a seatbelt or airbags, and she lived. It took more than a stupid tree to kill you, Mom. Sure, there was brain damage, but you were mostly fine. (Could this be brain damage?) It's in my blood; no damn bike accident could take me out… Could it?

"Am I dead? Is this heaven?" I said aloud. It was the first time I had spoken, I think, but again I couldn't be sure of anything. I opened my eyes and looked at the face that belonged to the not-unpleasant male voice. "Are you an angel?"

The… I'm gonna' take a wild guess here and call it a boy… blinked at me with big, emerald green eyes and raised eyebrows. He stood with the sun shining off his long, blood-red hair, not unlike a red halo.

"No," He said. "I don't think so."

"Huh," Was my eloquent reply as I continued to stare stupidly. "Could have fooled me." He just stared, wearing an expression I couldn't –or was too out of touch with reality (in more ways than one) to- read.

I forced myself to sit up, suddenly unable to lay there with this guy, who said he wasn't (but could well have been) an angel, staring at me.

I quickly discovered that I am NOT superwoman, no matter how many trees I crash into and don't die from, and am NOT impervious to pain.

"Oww…" I brought my knees up and held my pounding head in my hands, trying and failing to will the pain to go away.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I heard the grass rustle as he knelt beside me, but he did nothing else.

"I said I was in the first place?" I laughed, hard as it was I couldn't help it. "I don't know your definition of the word, but what I was saying back there wouldn't have made me believe I was 'alright'. My head…"

"At least you are talking," He said simply.

Good point.

"Didn't think about that," Don't talk, moron! Pain… Hurt… I buried my head deeper in my hands. "Then again, thinking hurts."

"Hm," was all he said, "If you don't mind my asking, do you remember what happened?"

So he's not an angel, he's a doctor?

I just shook my head, then after a minuet said, "You wouldn't believe me."

I think I saw the hint of a smile, but I wasn't really looking.

"Try me."