Jason and the Dragonfly

When a new spirit arrives in the netherworld they are given a companion–mortals would likely refer to them as “familiars”, but when your very existence is itself magical, the word “familiar” has a bit of a diminished feeling. In general, spirits choose some type of animals; cats and dogs are the all-time popular companions, of course, but there are also a surprising number of hyenas for some reason. And badgers, for that matter. No matter the choice, each companion speaks to the spirit as a true friend, guiding it throughout the netherworld, showing it around the paths and forests and clouds and, when they’re finally ready, to the portal where their next life awaits.

Jason was one such spirit and on arriving was asked what his companion of choice was. He thought for a moment before he said, “a dragonfly”, who he aptly named, “Dragonfly”.

Dragonfly was a beautiful little creature with a shiny blue abdomen that glistened in the sun and semi-transparent wings that looked almost purple in just the right light. He hovered and buzzed around Jason’s shoulders whenever they walked together and Dragonfly was always the first to flit up to a stranger and introduce himself.

“Hello, good spirit,” Dragonfly would say. “I am Dragonfly and this is my companion, Jason.” This often caused a small bit of embarrassment in Jason as he was a bit more closed off and insular–much more happy walking alone through woods or along riverbeds, he was very shy around other people, especially adults. They were curious things that he viewed with wonder and awe and since he was a young spirit himself, he always wondered what being an adult would be like. Dragonfly on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less.

“I’m fine with who I am,” Dragonfly would say. “And so should you be.”

There are many spirits here who are keen to visit the Library of Human Knowledge, plenty of whom take advantage of the endless tomes and time. Jason, however, was a slow reader and once he finished a book, he would take it to his corner of the netherworld, which was a little cottage just past the Sugarwater Fountain. When Mr. Barrow, the librarian, observed that other people might like to read those books, Jason replied simply, “I’m just borrowing it. If time is infinite, then I’ll never turn in a book late.”

Late fees don’t exist in our libraries, thanks to Jason.

And you might think that this description of Jason was uncharitable or that he was unliked, but this was far from the case. For all of his quirks he was a genuinely curious and polite soul, no doubt due to many of Dragonfly’s “manners lessons”. If you were lost, Jason would somehow appear and, without speaking, guide you to your destination. Or if you couldn’t decide on an ice cream from the Endless Ice Cream Shoppe, Jason would point at and pick the exact flavor you didn’t know you wanted. Every single time. The clocks in the netherworld, of which we have many, are constantly in need of repair as they are made of very fragile and intricate parts. When Jason arrived he shadowed our clockworker Mr. Delvin for several millennia before taking on repairs for himself. After that, whenever a spirit presented a broken wrist watch, Jason’s tiny hands would make quick work of it and he would return it to its owner, brightly polished with each gear cleaned and lubricated. And everyone knew that the watches that Jason fixed would never need adjusting as he was so precise at calibrating each movement and complication. Even Mr. Delvin was impressed.

But what set Jason apart from most other spirits was his reluctance to transition back to life. Many stay in the netherworld for a long time, but will eventually move on–if not out of compulsion then out of sheer boredom. Jason, on the other hand, seemed not scared, but indifferent to life. Dragonfly often tried to convince him to move into the mortal world.

“They’ve great things there on the ground,” said Dragonfly.

“But I’ve got great things here,” said Jason.

“Yes, but there the people have smells and make sounds and it’s just so wonderful,” said Dragonfly.

“That sounds scary,” said Jason.

Dragonfly paused for a moment.

“A spirit is never permanent, you know. You’re not meant to stay forever.”

“Yes I know,” he replied. “But I just don’t feel like I’m quite ready to move through. You understand, right?”

“Companions don’t move through, so not really.”

Jason sighed and leaned his back against the candy tree–the bubblegums were in bloom and the children often flocked to them on the first ripening. Jason was particularly fond of the cherry chew tree across from the Library of Human Knowledge. But there, sitting under a canopy of bubblegum, Dragonfly hovered beside him just above his shoulder, quietly thinking.

“I’ve talked to one of the sculptors,” Dragonfly said.

“Who,” Jason asked.

“Mister Marcus,” said Dragonfly. “And he’s granted me permission to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“Before I tell you, you have to agree to at least see it with me.” Dragonfly buzzed slightly to the left when a piece of bubblegum fell down next to Jason. He hovered back. “I promise that it will be safe.”

Jason sighed. “Ok. I’ll go.”

********

The first thing that startled Jason was the noise. When they apparated, they found themselves on a sidewalk in a busy city, people hurriedly walking past each other, some talking loudly, others saying nothing. Large moving vehicles honked as they slowly moved through the road. As they moved through the crowd, Jason stared in awe at the massive size of the buildings.

“What are those,” he asked.

“Skyscrapers,” said Dragonfly. “You probably encountered them back when you were living, but your memory of them must have faded.”

Jason gawked at the shiny reflective windows that cast bright lights into his eyes.

“What are they for,” he asked.

“People work there,” said Dragonfly.

“What’s work?”

“It’s what people do to make money.”

“What’s money?”

Dragonfly curled his tail under his body until its tip was under his chin as he thought for a moment.

“People use that to buy things they need and want.”

“So people don’t always have what they need and want,” asked Jason.

“Very rarely,” said Dragonfly.

“What a terrible way to exist,” said Jason.

They hovered through the people and toward a large white building with many windows that looked into white rooms. In most of the rooms were beds with people laying in them and while some of them were alone, others were surrounded by people or were joined by one singular person. Often that person was sitting in a chair beside the bed. As they drew closer, Jason noticed that the people in the beds had tubes sticking out of various parts of their body.

“What’s this place,” asked Jason.

“That,” said Dragonfly, “is a hospital.”

“What’s it for,” asked Jason.

“To get better,” said Dragonfly. “You see people get sick and when they do, they go to a hospital to get better.”

“So when you go to a hospital, you get better?”

Dragonfly paused for a moment.

“Well,” he said, “not always.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well most people do get better, but sometimes they’re too sick to get better.”

“And what happens when they don’t get better,” Jason asked.

“Then you get to meet them,” Dragonfly replied.

“Oh,” said Jason.

They continued along each window and spent time gazing at the people inside. In a lot of rooms people were crying or looked like they had been crying. Sometimes a person in a white coat would enter the room and talk and the people would cry, or shout or fall to the floor. Sometimes they just stayed silent.

What a sad place, Jason thought.

They floated around to another wing of the building and as they passed by the windows, Jason noticed that in each of the beds were children. Many of them were pale and some of them didn’t seem to have any hair on their heads. In one window sat a girl of about 7 who was leaning a shiny head against the chest of an older girl, who was reading from a book. The girl looked tired but seemed to be trying her best to smile. In another room a little boy was playing a videogame from a handheld device, taking a break periodically to have a coughing fit. He looked tired as well, and each of the kids looked just as tired as the last and it made Jason feel sad for them. He stopped at one window and saw a little boy leaning over the side of his bed away from the window. Beside him was a pretty lady kneeling down with a bucket in one hand and with her other she gently caressed his back. He hunched over and spasmed a few times before turning and laying back down on the bed.

“What’s he doing,” asked Jason.

“He’s throwing up,” said Dragonfly.

“Why’s he throwing up,” he asked.

“Because he’s sick,” said Dragonfly.

Jason stared silently through the window, thinking.

“Are all of them sick,” he asked.

“Yes,” he said. “This is a place specifically for kids because their bodies are smaller and they need a different kind of help than the adults.”

Jason looked at the pretty lady; she wore a red sweatshirt and blue jeans and her auburn hair was hastily tied up into a ponytail. He thought that she seemed nice but sad. She was saying something to the boy as she grabbed the bucket and walked into a side room before reappearing and sitting at the chair next to the bed. She reached over and stroked his head and as he looked more intently, he noticed that her eyes were red and puffy.

“Why did you bring me here,” asked Jason.

“I don’t know,” said Dragonfly. “Mr. Marcus told me to bring you here.”

Jason shook his head and looked at Dragonfly. “Well if you’re trying to get me to come here, this is the wrong place to bring me.”

He was just about to turn away when he felt something and when he looked back through the window he saw that the boy was suddenly looking right in his direction as if the boy was looking straight at him. Jason furrowed his brow.

“I thought they couldn’t see us,” said Jason.

“I thought so too,” said Dragonfly.

The three of them froze there staring at each other and after a while the boy's eyes began to droop, as if he were falling asleep. He lifted his hand as if to wave to Jason, then laid back down and closed his eyes. The two of them stayed gazing at the boy for a while, until a thought occurred to Jason.

“Am…I gonna see him now,” he asked.

“No,” said Dragonfly. “I think he’s actually sleeping.”

Jason looked on and thought for a while before he asked, “can we come back here to visit?” Dragonfly turned to Jason.

“Of course,” he replied.

As they turned to leave, Dragonfly spoke.

“Have you thought of moving through,” he asked.

“No,” said Jason. “Not yet.”

And with that, they left for the netherworld.

*****

What most people don’t know about the netherworld is that it functions very much in the same way that the living world does: there are people and animals and dogs and homes. There are horses and bicycles and adults and kids. The biggest difference is that the netherworld has its own time in that there’s no time, per se. People stay or leave each other when they feel it appropriate and the clocks and watches are largely ceremonial trinkets that people keep as mementos to their time on earth. They keep other things as well–jewelry and lockets or hatchets or sometimes pens or phones. After the visit to the hospital Jason noticed that many of the younger spirits like him wore white bands around their wrists, the same kind as the children in the hospital. He thought about this as he looked down at the Valley of Goodness from atop the Cliffs of Serenity when he felt somebody sit down beside him–it was Mr. Marcus, one of the Worldsmith Sculptors. They were in charge of building planets throughout the universe and putting life in them. For a while they were both silent while Dragonfly buzzed slightly above Jason’s head.

“I hear you had a visit,” said Mr. Marcus.

“I did,” said Jason.

“What did you think,” asked Mr. Marcus.

Jason thought for a moment.

“I shouldn’t say,” said Jason. “It might sound rude.”

“Please,” said Mr. Marcus. “I’d appreciate your honesty.”

“I think it’s mean to hurt kids that way,” he said. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t cause pain,” said Mr. Marcus, “nor do I cause pleasure. Or happiness or anger, for that matter. I just put people there.”

Feeling his eyes begin to well up, Jason turned away from him and wiped them with his hand.

“Then who does it?”

They sat there, the two of them and Dragonfly, while Mr. Marcus explained the universe. He spoke of its vastness and the intricacies of life and death and, most importantly, he spoke of fate and love and heartache and all of those things that humans experienced. The way Jason understood it, things just happened, good and bad. Nobody knows how or why, but it just does. It is, Mr. Marcus explained, definitely unfair that some people can have a terrible run of bad luck. But the good news is that everyone comes here to the netherworld.

Spirits don’t generally have a need for sleep, but as humans are wont to do, they often can’t break the habit of winding down for the evening. And despite how much he fought sleep when he was a living child, Jason now took comfort in his bedtime ritual–he would sit at a small table in his kitchen and pour himself a tall glass of milk and place it beside a plate of 4 or 5 cookies and very carefully and diligently dip each cookie into the milk before taking a bite, then offering two cookies to Dragonfly. Once finished, he would grab his dishes with one hand, walk over to the sink, pull out the plain wooden step stool he kept in the cupboard, and carefully place the dishes in the sink for washing in the morning. Then he would change into his red fire truck pajamas before walking to the bathroom (yes they have those too) and brush his teeth before tucking himself into bed. That night, he thought about the hospital and the boy who stared back at him. He stared out the window into the deep violet night sky and sighed. Mr. Marcus was dependable and honest; any time Jason had a question, he would do his best to give him the truth in a way that he could understand and yet, he still had difficulty accepting existence. Jason turned to his nightstand where Dragonfly gently hovered, eyes closed and sleeping.

“Dragonfly,” said Jason.

“Yes,” said Dragonfly.

“Are there other hospitals,” he asked. “Down on earth?”

Dragonfly yawned. “Plenty of them all over the planet.”

Jason closed his eyes and said, “I sure would like to see more of them.”

“Then so we shall,” said Dragonfly. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, then,” said Jason.

And just before the two of them drifted off to dream the dreams of people; of bicycle rides, and classroom pranks, and comic books and roller coasters, Dragonfly spoke.

“Have you thought of moving through,” he asked.

“No,” said Jason. “Not yet.”

And the two of them slept soundly, as all spirits do.

********

That morning, and for many days afterward, Jason and Dragonfly visited numerous hospitals. Dragonfly answered many questions, such as how people got sick, why didn’t some of them have families, and did they always eat that icky looking hospital food. The more complicated questions he would save for Mr. Marcus, who was always very good about simplifying things. As they moved through hospitals, Jason learned about illness and recovery and aging and, yes, even dying which, if he understood correctly, meant they were “moving through” too, just to the netherworld. Dragonfly even began taking him to places known as “nursing homes”, which Jason quite liked because the people there always seemed very kind. He liked their slow way of walking and the fact that they had people feeding and changing them and he thought it might be fun to live in a nursing home himself.

One day they were looking inside the window of yet another hospital, where a young woman sat on the edge of the moving beds. Seated beside her was a man who was looking up and talking to her. What caught Jason’s eye was that this particular woman didn’t seem sick and so, he waited for the doctor to arrive to ask Dragonfly to translate (he was good for this sort of thing). The two of them watched on as the doctor spoke to the couple and at one point, the woman covered her face with one hand and began weeping cupping her stomach with the other as the man hugged her. Jason was confused.

“What happened,” he asked.

Dragonfly buzzed from side-to-side for a few seconds before he said, “I…don’t know.”

Jason scowled. The lady also seemed to be very sweet and he didn’t like knowing that she was sad, so he thought and thought and thought about what could be happening, but came up with nothing. Mr. Marcus will know, he thought. Later on, back in the netherworld, he visited Mr. Marcus in his shop and recounted what he saw. Mr. Marcus was chipping at a clay statue, pausing every so often to gaze at it from multiple angles. He nodded to himself.

“Sometimes,” said Mr. Marcus, “people have difficulty having children.”

Jason was shocked. This definitely didn’t seem fair to him.

“But why would it be hard,” asked Jason. “There are plenty of spirits.”

Marcus blew a few shavings off the statue.

“It’s just harder for some people,” he said. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

Jason pouted and swallowed back tears.

“But…I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I,” said Mr. Marcus.

Jason looked for a while and said nothing while Mr. Marcus chipped and shaved and brushed the statue and after a while, he and Dragonfly left for home. As Jason walked he kept thinking of the lady and how sad she looked and he felt himself begin to cry again, so he looked away from Dragonfly and wiped his eyes again.

******

Over the next few months, Jason and Dragonfly made sure to be there every time the couple visited and each time the couple seemed to leave the room more disappointed than the last. Jason didn’t like that the woman seemed to walk more slowly, often slouched, or how the man seemed more and more tired. He knew it made no sense and the more he thought about it, the more it frustrated him.

At home, Jason had a loupe pressed into his eye and though he was trying to focus on repairing this particular watch, he found himself getting distracted. A repair that would have normally taken half an hour had dragged on past the morning and through lunch and numerous attempts to start over, Jason placed the loupe and his tools on the table and stood up to make himself a late lunch. Dragonfly watched on from the counter next to the sink, periodically sipping water from a small saucer. He knew that Jason was upset but he also knew that it was better to wait for him to talk rather than ask questions. After hastily slapping together a sandwich, Jason placed his lunch down at the table and sat down. He was lost in thought and stared out the window for a few minutes before he made a decision.

“I need to talk to Mr. Marcus,” he said.

******

“I want to go now,” said Jason. Dragonfly hovered softly over his shoulder just next to his ear.

Marcus opened his eyes and squinted at him. It was mid-day and he was sprawled out on the grass in front of his home. He sat up and crossed his legs.

“Is that so,” said Mr. Marcus.

Jason nodded. “Yes, but I know where I want to go.”

Mr. Marcus looked at Dragonfly and raised his eyebrow.

“He means it,” said Dragonfly, who began drifting side-to-side. “It’s an improvement, I suppose.”

Mr. Marcus nodded and said, “very well. Dragonfly can help you make some Lifetea.” He walked over to Jason and gently patted him on the shoulder. “I wish you luck, Jason.” Jason smiled and began walking home.

Later that evening Dragonfly gave him instructions on how to brew the tea and after they boiled some water and soaked the bag full of tea leaves they sat at the table while Jason quietly sipped. The liquid sent a soothing warmth throughout his body and the more he drank, the more relaxed and calm he became. He was still thinking of the lady and he still felt sad for her, but he also felt a sense of peace. After he finished, he took his mug to the kitchen, washed and dried it before hanging it up. He changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, then laid in bed.

“Dragonfly,” he said.

“Yes,” said Dragonfly.

“Will you watch over the house while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” said Dragonfly. “I’ll make sure it stays clean and tidy.”

“Thank you,” said Jason.

*****

And when he slept that night, he dreamt that he was in a warm and cozy cave and that he could hear muffled voices around him, but he wasn’t scared. When he awoke found himself staring at a bright light and through blurry vision he could see the fuzzy shapes of people looking down at him, patting and rubbing him and passing him around. Some of them were speaking loudly and it scared him so much he began to cry. But then he was placed in a pair of arms and as he looked up at two fuzzy shapes above him, gently caressing his face and head, he felt happy and he smiled.