All Who Would Win Joy

Christine Haese
Copyright 1993
Second Place Fiction
Northland Pioneer College
Show Low, AZ

  

                                                         All Who Would Win Joy

            Sara picked up the tattered book as she did every morning. The New Dictionary of Thoughts was now over sixty years old. Somehow, beginning each day with an inspiring quote helped her find new strength. Today she would need all the courage she could find.

Flipping through the stained pages, she randomly scanned the headings: Happiness, Joy, Love, Dreams, Hope.  Could she carry one simple, positive thought with her today?   She read through the encyclopedia of quotations and decided to choose one at random: "All who could win joy, must share it, happiness was born a twin."  - Byron

Sarah smiled as a thought flashed across her mind. The quote made her think of Melanie, her twin sister. She needed to talk to Mel. Picking up the phone, she instinctively dialed her sibling.

"Damn!" she growled, remembering the phone was disconnected. "I'll have to wait and talk to her when we get to her house." 

Glancing around at the boxes and bare walls, Sara returned to reality. Today was moving day. And not by choice.

Putting the book down on the kitchen table, Sara stretched to a top shelf and grabbed a crystal goblet. As she started to wrap the delicate, feather-light glass, she paused. Touching her finger to her tongue, she wetted her index finger. Racing it in a circle around the rim of the goblet, she listened intently. The glass began to ring. She looked around to make sure no one was watching. She felt a little silly, but just couldn't help herself. Images of Melanie showing her how to make the glass sing clouded her mind. It was a game they loved to play as children, especially at holiday dinners. Now it seemed the four goblets represented her strongest connection with her sister.  A lot had changed. She and Melanie lived in different worlds. Mel owned a popular seafood bar on the beach called the Bass Ackwards. It was a fun place for the young and beautiful crowd and it earned her an income that staggered the female imagination. They talked on the phone but rarely saw each other.

Once again, Sara began packing. After securing the precious contents with heavy tape she wrote, "Kitchen - Good Stuff” on the box with a marker and carried it to the tri‑colored pickup. The screen door whined, and then banged behind her as she added the box to the unorganized heap. Then she remembered the contents and decided it might be safer on the front seat.

Inside, Sara took one last look around. Her address book, drawings from her students, Chapstick, an old vase, and a lottery ticket were on the kitchen counter. Glancing at the ticket's square dot print, she rolled her eyes.

Why do I buy these things anyway?   It's just become a bad habit.

She compulsively bought one lottery ticket, allowing the machine make the roulette decision. This week the machine had chosen 7, 8, 17, 30, 25, and 40.

Scooping up the items, Sara tucked them into a box and quickly taped it shut for the movers. She didn't want to be influenced by the daydreaming that the lottery ticket provided.

"Sara!   C'mon honey. The truck is here and the movers need us to sign papers,” her husband Matt called from the front porch. Medley, the mongrel dog, barked in unison. The movers were courtesy of Matt's new company.

"Be right there!"   Sara paused, trying to recall her passage for the day.

Matt and Sara loved their country farmhouse. They had lived there for ten years. Leaving was not what they wanted, but they had filed bankruptcy and needed more income. Sara taught at the local middle school, spent her time (and paycheck) on her students.   "You can't take care of this entire town by yourself."  Matt reminded her monthly. "We need more money before we can help others."  

Matt and Sara had decided he should accept a job in the city.  He would be a consultant for a veterinary supply company. Sara would work on her master’s degree and refine her grant writing techniques so she could start a community center. They had rented their homestead.  Maybe soon they could return, start a family and launch their dreams.

Sadness hovered over Sara as she signed. There was no way out. All the passages, in all the great books could not change their situation. Matt and Sara would compensate their lifestyle, and maybe, cultivate their future.

The moving man was getting on her nerves. He wore a cowboy hat as big as his ego and was continually chewing. Sara wondered where he was spitting. He and his muscular wife worked like a team of draft horses.

            "We can have everything delivered to your apartment by next Thursday,” the man said without charm.  "No reason to worry. Me and the little missus are professionals."   Sara watched as his wife stacked three boxes and heaved them into the air. The little missus could probably get the job done by herself.

"Matt, can we go now?  The movers can finish."                                                   

Medley curled between them on the seat as they approached Melanie's front gate.  Matt glanced at Sara holding the box of crystal on her lap, staring out the window. She would not look in his direction. This probably meant she was crying. Matt leaned over to kiss her. Medley licked Matt's ear and he wrinkled the corner of his mouth in disappointment. They traveled silently down the dirt road, sighing in unison. They knew this was much harder than they thought it would be.

            "Did you bring the ice chest?"  Sara asked.

"Why?  Are you already hungry?"

"What do you mean already?  We haven't eaten since five. Let's stop. I packed some honey bread, fruit, and chicken. We can sit by the river."

Matt agreed, knowing it might be the last time they saw their favorite picnic spot. Banging down the tailgate, Sara pondered her quote of the day.

"Do you want to spend the night here and camp by the river?"  Sara tempted him.  We'll be three days ahead of the movers.  We've got blankets, plenty of food, and besides . . . look at Medley?"

Medley had been swimming and was covered with mud. She jiggled enthusiastically, trying to rid her feathery tail of a branch.

Matt needed no further invitation. He had been working hard and was ready for a little relaxation. He put his arm around Sara and gave her a lasting kiss.

As the sun returned to start a new day, the trio was ready to travel. They would arrive at Melanie's tomorrow night if they took turns driving and kept a steady pace.

When Matt and Sara drove through Melanie's guarded gate, she came floating from the house and embraced her sister like old times.

"Sara!  Matt!  Guess what!"  Melanie shrieked. "I'm rich (or richer)!  I won the big jackpot!   Six million!   Unfortunately there's another winner, but I'll still share some of my money with you two.

I bought one lottery ticket and used my same old numbers 7, 8, 17, 30, 25, 40.  I'll give you some and you can buy yourselves something."  Melanie was tempted to give her a long list.

"No quarter-pounders tonight!  We'll go to a wonderful place I know and celebrate. I'll call for the car.  We'll even bring your dog and order a plate delivered to the car."

Sara and Matt tumbled into Mel's spacious limousine. Medley lapped air from the back window. Mel was so happy it was contagious. Smiling generously, Sara argued with herself whether she should tell Mel about the bankruptcy.  Probably not just now.   As children they had shared everything for the sake of the twinship. Now it seemed they were living in different worlds, estranged from the past. Sara and Matt had worked hard, defined their future and believed they would somehow accomplish their dreams, independently, living in their rural world again someday.   

At that moment Sara remembered her quote for the day. "Mel, Listen. You've got to hear my special thought for the day. She recited the lines of irony, "All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin."  - Byron.

"See. I guess it really is fate. I was meant to be a winner and share it with my twin sister,” Melanie gloated.

"No. You don't understand. Being born a twin and sharing your joy is my happiness. Matt squeezed her hand and Melanie glanced at her misty eyes.             

Sara reminisced quietly. It would probably be a couple more days before she saw her possessions again. She suddenly remembered her own lottery ticket.  She would definitely stop buying them. Her hand was holding her pursed lips in deep contemplation. Minutes passed and the conversation between Matt and Melanie was interrupted by Sara as she asked with widening eyes . . ."Say Mel. What did you say your lottery numbers were?"