Joy and Despair

Joy decided that the morning was just perfect for a walk. She did that a lot: deciding that something was just perfect. This particular morning, the weather happened to agree with her. She skipped out of her house. Skipped down her drive. Skipped out into the street and skipped right out of town.
Along the way, she said hello, and how do you do, and isn’t today just perfect, to every personified abstract idea that she met.
“Hello, Earnest!”
“How do you do, Chastity?”
“Oh, Destiny, isn’t today just perfect?”
With each amiable greeting, the halo of light around her flared a little brighter.
Once out of town, she stopped skipping and settled into a leisurely stroll. She planned on spending the whole day just hiking around the countryside and she didn’t want to tire herself out before she got home. Before long, though, she started thinking that she might just improve on her plan. She looked up at the bright blue sky and decided that she would take an afternoon nap.
It was just that kind of day.
She saw Grace and Hope, heading back from picking flowers along the fences that contained Earnest’s farmland. She passed Virtue by, only slowing down enough to wish the older woman well. Temperance passed alongside the opposite side of the road at a snail’s pace and wished Joy a reasonably fine day.
Before long, Joy found herself all alone. She looked back. As far as the eye could see, there was no one. She turned in a circle and scanned the horizon. No one. She decided to start skipping again. After all, there was no one to judge her for her actions.
Judgment was out of town for a business meeting.
Every few minutes or so, she’d bend down and pluck a handful of posies. She would hold them to her nose until she had snuffed out all of the aroma she could. It was an indulgent waste of the flowers but she couldn’t help herself. It didn’t matter much, it made her happy. Her delight canceled out any suffering that may have been. To make sure of that fact, before she pulled up a new bunch of posies, she simply held the roots of the old batch to the ground and with a tiny force of her will, the flowers planted themselves again, as though nothing untoward had ever happened.
Joy went skipping along, at a pace that more-or-less guaranteed that she’d have to stop for a rest before midday. Her body thrilled at the work and, if you couldn’t tell already, her soul was smiling.
The whole while she sang with the birds, winked at the occasional cloud and spread goodwill and bliss everywhere she went. Though no scientist or his equipment could possibly measure a discernible difference, the way she had come seemed that much brighter and cheerier for her passing.
Shortly before midday, Joy realized that she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the lunch hour than to lie down in the tall grass, watch the sky roll by overhead, and listen to the insects and birds playing their little lives out all around her. She stopped skipping and listened intently. She heard the faint babble of a nearby creek and immediately turned towards the direction of the sound.
Joy realized that the only way her day could possibly get any better would be to let the burble and babble of shallow, rushing water hum her to sleep.
She stepped off the road and merrily skipped down to the bottom of one of the deep ditches that ran along on either side of the road. She intended on bouncing right up the other side of the ditch, but she found her way blocked.
Joy had a lot of wonderful characteristics, but awareness of what was going on around her was not one of her strong suits. She made a move to flit around the curious lump that was blocking her path without bothering to look close enough to determine what it was.
“Watch it!” the lump shouted.
“Oh my! Excuse me!” Joy squealed in surprise, no less cheery in disposition. “I must watch where I’m going!”
“I suppose you better,” the lump said.
“Well,” Joy twittered, “I should be on my way! You have the best day ever, y’all!”
Joy sidestepped the lump, forgetting him as she went on her way.
She was halfway up the opposite side of the ditch when she noticed two things, her bright white shoes were soggy with mud and the lump was saying something. “And why would I go and do that?” the lump asked.
“Oh my, look at you there! Where’d you come from?” Joy squealed again. She’d already forgotten him. After a moment, she asked, “What was that you said, sweetie?”
The lump turned his head just far enough so that Joy could see his profile and repeated himself, “And why would I go and do that?”
Joy was genuinely perplexed. “I don’t think I understand what you’re asking, sweetheart.”
The lump scooted himself around in the muck and mud at the bottom of the ditch until he was facing Joy. “And why would I go and have the best day ever?”
Joy’s jaw dropped in disbelief and her eyes twinkled with adoration. “My heavens! Despair, is that you?” Before Despair could respond, Joy said, “Goodness! I haven’t seen you in ages! And don’t you look just wonderful! You must tell me, what have you been up to?” The great halo of her aura put the sun to shame, she was glowing that brightly.
Despair brought his eyes up to look at Joy without lifting his head. He peered through his bushy eyebrows at her and replied, “I’ve been squatting in this ditch. Doing my job. Just like you.”
Joy giggled. “Well, all of this silly mud has done wonders for your complexion, I swear!”
Despair made a sound with his throat, halfway between a retch and a sarcastic guffaw. “And you,” Despair said, “are as bright as ever. Hurts my eyes.”
“Thank you,” Joy said with a curtsy. She blew a kiss and turned to leave. She just couldn’t get her mind off of the nap she intended to take by the burbling creek. The sun warming her bronzed skin, the breeze rustling her hair and sending the grass against her face, tickling her cheeks, it was a glorious prospect. She smiled even wider than normal and closed her eyes while letting out a little moan of pleasure just thinking about it.
“You didn’t answer me, Joy,” Despair shook her from her reverie. She had to ask him once more what he meant. Despair answered her, “You told me that I should have the best day ever. I want to know why I’d want to go and do something like that. Tell me.”
Joy looked around and waved her hands about. “Just look at all this beauty. How could you not have the best day amidst all of this?”
Despair made his throat noise again, grabbed a clump of mud and threw it out over the landscape that had so inspired Joy.
Joy couldn’t figure out what the gesture was supposed to mean, so she just smiled and giggled a little.
Despair got the feeling that she had missed his point entirely. “But what’s so great about today,” he asked, “or yesterday, or tomorrow, or next Tuesday, for that matter?” He threw more mud about. “Even if it’s as great as you think, Winter will be here soon and everything will be dead. I’ll be miserable, sulking and cold to boot. What’s so great about that?” Some of the mud he had tossed landed back on his head with a plop and he hurried to wipe it off.
“Just look at this,” Joy said, answering in her own way. She pointed at a flower growing all by itself at the edge of the ditch. As soon as she pointed at it, it erupted in a flame that never threatened to consume it. Great leaping plumes of blue and pink and violet and gold ensconced the flower in a halo that did nothing but enhance its natural beauty. Joy then swept her hand around in a half circle. Every flower that fell within the area described by her gesture lit up in a similar fashion.
The world was suddenly filled with more beauty and wonder than seemed reasonable to Despair.
“See all that?” she asked. “That’s the simple joy of being alive. You can’t argue with that, I’d say.”
Despair squinted his eyes and groaned. “Oh, that’s all well and good,” he grumbled, “but watch this.” He dug up two great mounds of muck in his hands and flung it out over the field. As soon as the refuse landed, time sped up. The flowers waned and their flames dwindled. Snow fell and extinguished what remained.
“See that?” he asked, his voice miserable.
“I do,” Joy admonished him, her voice still light and bubbly. “You’re so silly. You know what happens next! It’s my favorite ever!” She blew a gentle breath out over the land and the snow melted away, bit by bit. After a few seconds, the grass started growing. The flames returned, yellow at first, then growing orange, then red. When the first of the flowers blossomed, the bright blues and violets and gold returned, dominating the landscape.
“You’re missing the point,” Despair growled. “It’ll all die sooner or later.”
“It’ll come back,” Joy responded. “It always does.”
Despair let his magic fall away. Joy let hers fade as well. They looked each other full in the eye, waiting for the other to admit that they were in the wrong.
Despair spoke first. “You don’t get it do you?”
Joy laughed and asked, “What’s to get? Life is beautiful!”
“Life is pain.”
“Oh, poor, sweet Despair. Pain can be beautiful, if you just look at it the right way.” She couldn’t keep the smile from her voice. “Let me help you, sweetheart. Would you like me to show you the flowers again? I’m surprised you missed the point the first time: Life can be hard is hard, but the pain is worth it!”
Despair grunted. “Wait, Joy. You tell me what’s so great about today and I’ll show you why you’re wrong. Let’s settle this, once and for all. Who’s the bigger force in the world?”
Joy tittered. “Don’t be silly, Despair! How can you compete when I’ve got the birth of a hundred thousand babies a day on my side?”
Despair laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. He puffed his chest up a little and made his rebuttal. “Don’t be so naïve. Just ask yourself what a baby does the first thing after it’s born. It cries. It knows what’s coming its way. Me.”
Joy waved his rebuttal aside and put forth her next example. “Birthdays!”
“Birthdays only signal the inevitable march towards feebleness and death.”
“The first day of school, new beginnings, the joy of learning and the thrill of adventure!”
“Balderdash,” Despair laughed. “There’s more than enough terror and drudgery in each of those examples to plant them firmly in my camp.”
“Surely you can’t counter the bliss of a first love,” Joy posited.
“Ha,” Despair chuckled mirthlessly, “ninety nine percent of first loves end up in heartbreak and remorse.”
After every repartee, Joy and Despair puffed themselves up just a little bit more, each confident in their inevitable victory. There was no denying, according to them, who would prove to be the bigger force in the world.
“How about nostalgia, then, sweetie?”
Despair reeled around in the muck beneath him in what would seem, to the casual observer, to be delight and mirth. “You can’t be serious? Nostalgia is the saddest of all. Even I can’t spend much time around that guy.”
“Oh, oh,” Joy exclaimed. “Weddings. I oversee thousands of weddings every day! There’s enough happiness there to beat you for sure!”
“Please,” Despair balked. “In a few years, I’ll be at every one of the divorce proceedings.”
“True love,” Joy declared in such a way that she sounded as though she was asking a question.
Despair sunk in his mud pit a little and replied, “True love is so rare that I don’t dare mess with it. You might as well ask me about unicorns.”
“Well then, how about unicorns?” Joy beamed.
“How about,” Despair countered, asking questions out of turn, “sudden infant death syndrome? Or tornados in trailer parks? Or AIDS? Or carpal tunnel syndrome? Or club foot? Or Eczema?”
Joy laughed and said, “Eczema? Sweetheart, you don’t even know the meaning of your own name!”
“Joy, have you ever had eczema?”
Joy smirked at the thought and said, “No, of course not, silly!”
Despair groused, “If you’d just deign to lower yourself to my level, you’d see my point of view. I promise.”
Joy decided to do just that. Sort of. She stepped down off of the precipice and started to settle down into the mud and the muck. Before she let her bright white dress defile itself in the mire, she flourished both of her hands and drew forth from the earth a bed of flowers to cushion her rear and to provide a blanket of protection from the mud. “See,” she asked once settled, “I did what you said and I’m still just as happy.”
Despair chortled without ever smiling. “No,” he said, “you didn’t really do what I asked.”
Joy giggled and wrinkled her nose. “Okay, you silly billy.” She dismissed the flower bed that was protecting the purity of her dress from the mud with a wave of her hand. “Are you happy now?” she asked.
Despair guffawed, “You know me too well to ask that.” In a calculated measure, he tossed a heap of mud onto her lap. After gauging her response, he apologized. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help but to try and get your goat.”
Joy laughed again. “Don’t fret, little one.”
“Little one?” Despair shouted and stood to his full height. “Need I remind you of Syphilis, Gonorrhea, Chlamydia, and Herpes?” Despair smiled a grotesque, toothy grin. “I’m big time, lady. No one passes through this life without knowing me!”
Joy blushed and replied, “Do I need remind you of the wonderful act that leads to each of your examples?” She winked at Despair.
Despair was tempted, but his inherent nature won out. “How about blood diamonds? Counter them, I dare you!”
Joy took in a contented breath and countered, “I really don’t know a thing about that, sweetie. I can, however, tell you about the joy a woman feels when she’s given one of those stones. I am never more myself than when I witness a marriage proposal.”
Despair whined, “Taking joy from all that suffering makes it even worse! I don’t care what you say, I win that one.”
Joy shrugged her shoulders and said, “You win some you lose some, I suppose. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll give you that point.” Joy absolutely beamed with generosity.
“I’ll take it,” Despair grumbled, “but only because I earned it, not because you’re giving it away.”
Joy giggled and said, “Whatever works for you!” She cocked her head to the side in a sudden gesture and asked, “Should we continue or have you stated your case?”
Despair mumbled to himself for a minute before Joy interrupted him. “Despair, sweetie, do you have anything else?”
After another moment or so of silence, Despair tossed a random clod of dirt high into the air and said, “Of course I do, but I think I proved my point. I’m bored of this game. Now answer me. How can you ask me to have the best day ever, knowing what I know?”
The dirt clump Despair had thrown into the air landed with a plop.
“Hey, watch it,” a third, slow, voice said. “You got mud in my hair.”
Joy and Despair jumped with a start. They had been so involved in deciding who had the bigger presence in the world that they hadn’t noticed that someone had joined them. Joy giggled and Despair said, “Well, hell. You’re quite a big fellow to be sneaking up on people.”
Seated right next to them was a man of truly massive size. He had a tired looking face and his posture resembled an avalanche more than anything else. Even sitting, he was twice as tall as Joy on her tippy toes. He was three times as wide as Despair was, even in his most impressive of slouches. It was as though a sizable hill had crept up on them and caught them unawares.
Despair craned his neck around the newcomer’s back and saw that he had left enormous foot prints in the soft, mucky center of the ditch as far as Despair could see. With feet that big, it was amazing that the new guy had crept up on them so silently.
Despair ogled the new guy’s size, then looked at Joy with more camaraderie than ever and said, “Who is he? He looks familiar.”
“Don’t be rude,” Joy admonished. She smiled up at the giant. “Howdy pardner,” she said, in the middle of a giggle fit.
The newcomer just grunted and made a face. It turns out that he wasn’t too worried about the mud in his hair, as he just let it drip off his head as it pleased. It was an apathetic gesture on a colossal scale.
Despair, full of jealous rage at being outsized and outclassed, looked up at the giant and shouted, “What’s your name, buddy? Tell me!”
The newcomer shrugged and replied slowly, “Eh, I don’t feel like it.”
Joy decided to take a stab at breaking the ice. If she made it through, it might prove her superiority over Despair once and for all. “Hey there, fella. It’d mean a lot to me if you could tell me what your name is.” Joy upped her aura and sent great glowing beams of glee all over the place. She was stunning.
The newcomer just yawned.
Joy and Despair looked at each other and shared a moment of indecision, which was something new to the both of them.
Joy, ever the optimist, blinked her eyes at the overbearingly large new guy and tried a new tack, “My name is Joy and this is Despair. What’s your name, sweetie?” She enunciated each word so that the big guy could understand. She thought he might just be Youth, and in case he was, she wanted to make sure that she spoke softly and slowly. There was no sense in setting him off on a hormone fueled rampage.
The big guy yawned again and said, in an even slower cadence, “I’m called Boredom.”
Joy and Despair both groaned when Boredom announced himself. They knew that they were in the presence of a true force and power in the world. The realization came with a sense of just how small and rare they truly were.
How could they debate who was the biggest now? Boredom had taken all of the fun and immediacy from the debate.
Joy, who had never had a thought like this before, acknowledged how unfair it was. Despair, who thought everything was unfair, just felt it deeper in his bones than usual.
Joy’s aura died down to a muted, sickly looking yellow. Despair all but turned pitch black.
“So,” Boredom asked, “what are you guys up to?”
Joy and Despair replied in tandem, embarrassed by the thought of telling what they had been debating, “Nothing.”
Despair looked up at Boredom and with jealousy in his voice, asked, “What are you up to?”
Boredom yawned again and replied, “Oh, nothing much.”