“You and Grandpa were stuffed in a bag? That must have been really scary!”
“It was.”
“How did you get out?”
“I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Listen, Mia, and I’ll tell you. Hahaha, you have your Grandfather’s patience.”
_____________________________________________________________________
I was trapped in a bag, utterly alone, racked with guilt for putting my new best friend in danger, and terrifiedly trying to bump his sack with mine to wake him up. The thing I will never forget about that bag was its utter darkness. It was a darkness that swallowed you whole, its emptiness was tangible, an inky black nothing with scratchy sides that chafed my arms and spirit raw.
People ask me all the time now, when I tell them this story, why didn’t I just call my mom or the police to help me? The answer is easy. My mom would follow me anywhere, even up Mnt. Everest, even to the ends of the Earth, and I needed her at home to keep an eye on my dad and where she was safe. As for the police, I needed them not to get involved. I was dealing in magic, and I knew full well what happens to witches when the law is involved. I had enough problems already.
Suddenly, after what seemed like an hour, but was probably only fifteen minutes, I heard a stirring from Jem’s bag.
“Where am I? … OH MY GOD! WHERE AM I!”
“We’re in bags.”
“Bags?”
“Yes. We were captured. But most importantly… Are you okay? You had me so worried!”
“Well, my head’s throbbing a little, but other than that, I guess I’m okay. Are you? My memory is starting to come back to me now… Oh my gosh! Are you okay! That giant man pounced on you like a lion and like, broke your trance of somethin’. Did that hurt?”
“A little I guess, but I’m fine. Any ideas about how to get out of here?”
“None that don’t involve us getting recapture.”
“We’ll just have to wait to see where we’re going then, I guess.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you ever meditated before?”
There we sat, uncomfortably in our bags, our knees pressed firmly into our chests, and breathed. Though we were separate, our breathing was in sync. It felt less alone and breathing was something that we could control during an uncontrollable situation. All we could do was wait there like idiots until we were freed from our canvas prisons, but it also helped me calm down enough to realize that Quincy was missing. And Quincy was all I could think of.
Then there was a thump. And my tailbone slammed into the hard ground. I judged by the way your grandfather yelped, that he had suffered the same fate. A few seconds later, we were released from our dark confinement and the sun pierced our eyes like daggers. Only when my eyes adjusted could I take in the scene. Standing over us was Creepy Old Lady Bus Stalker and her son, the guy who jumped me. They were smiling unsettling smiles and sneering like hyenas, ready to attack. We were all in the forest at a different hobbomak. This hobbomak was different though. It did not feel sacred at all. It felt invasive and compromised, and when I saw the cameras and light catchers set up, I knew why.