by K M Frost
Not that Ellie would understand what it meant to ‘pay tribute’. The most effective way to explain it would be to tell her Ms. Erikson had died and this was our chance to say goodbye, because in a few hours she would be buried under six feet of dirt.
But I didn’t say that. I loved my sister too much to tell her what had really happened. She deserved to hear some flowery speech rather than the bitter truth.
As I looked around at the people gathering in the church to pay their respects to Fiona Erikson, I knew I was the only one here who knew the truth.
Ms. Erikson had been found in her home yesterday morning, dead. The doctors said it was her time, that her illnesses had finally overcome her, and she was in a better place now.
They were halfway right—her illness had caught up to her, but it wasn’t what they thought. It wasn’t a simple cough or weak heart that had killed her—it was a deadly parasite that’d infected her years ago, and had been lying in wait while she slumbered in this dream world. The moment she’d woken in the Reality Dreams—in the real world—the parasite had finished its job, and her life was the cost.
“Jonas.”
I looked up.
Mom stood next to me in the aisle. She wasn’t much taller than me, even though I was sitting. She wore a simple black dress that argued with her long, dark brown hair, and her gray-blue eyes were red from endless crying.
“I’ve been asked to talk about Fiona’s life, and I’m going to have to sit at the front.” Her voice was unsteady with tears, and I knew she was crying about more than her lost friend.
“We’ll be fine, Mom.” My own voice was choked—though with guilt, not tears.
She nodded and moved slowly up the aisle to sit on the front pew with a few other women who’d known Ms. Erikson.
I watched her go, hating that I’d added to her grief.
It’d been a couple days since we’d fought, and she still cried every time she talked to me. I hated that I made her feel like a failure. It wasn’t her fault Counselor Gerrit was a liar, or that this world wasn’t real. All I wanted was to convince my family of the truth, but that seemed like the last thing possible.
The musicians across the room played a final dreary chord, then fell silent. Right on cue, the aged clergyman moved to the ornate pulpit and faced the room.
“We are gathered here today to pay final respects to the memory of Fiona Mae Erikson.” His voice was distinguished and detached.
I tuned him out like a boring instructor.
I hated funerals. I always had, and this one was no better than the others I’d been to.
I’d only ever been to two others before today, but I’d hated them both. They were stuffy and hollow. Everyone got dressed up in uncomfortable clothes and came to the church. Then to make it worse, we had to sit on the hard pews while a pompous clergyman drawled on and on about a person he hardly knew.
The clergyman was still talking.
Ellie was lying on her back, counting the tiles on the ceiling high above, her long brown braids sprawled on either side of her face.
I wished I could lay back like her and do something to relieve the boredom, but my parents wouldn’t be the only ones to scold me if I tried that. A nine-year-old was one thing, but a sixteen-year-old was expected to behave better.
Instead, I had to settle for slouching against the corner of the pew and fiddling with the knot on my tie, wishing I could just pull it off. I felt like it was trying to strangle me, but every time I’d loosened it this morning, Mom or Dad had re-tied it and insisted it looked sloppy to leave it hanging loose.
The clergyman droned on for way too long, but he finally took his seat on the front pew—then it was Mom’s turn.
I sat up straighter and tried to pay attention. The last thing I wanted was for Mom to see me slouching in the audience while she spoke about the life of her friend.
Mom took a deep, unsteady breath and then began. “I’ve known Fiona for many years. For longer than I can remember.”
A wave of bitterness crashed over me.
That’s because you won’t believe me. If you would try, you’d remember you had a life before this, and that’s why you can’t remember very far into your past. You’re blocking your own memories by being so stubborn!
Mom passed a tissue over her cheek, catching stray tears. “She was a very sick woman. She wasn’t blessed with the health the rest of us take for granted. But she never let that get her down. Though she had more struggles than anyone I know, she was always optimistic. She was selfless and cheerful, and the best friend a person could have.”
I’d never thought of Ms. Erikson as cheerful, but I guess I’d never spent much time talking to her. Every time Mom had made me and Ellie go with her to visit Ms. Erikson, I’d spent the whole time trying to get out of the funny-smelling house and to the awesome backyard. Sitting there, I realized I didn’t know much about Ms. Erikson. That really bothered me.
I tried to pay attention to what Mom was saying.
“She used to say that, because her body was sick, she needed to make sure her mind and soul were healthy and strong.” Mom gave a watery smile. “She didn’t have control over her disease, but she did so much to enrich her life. She didn’t worry about things outside of her power, and she lived life to the fullest, even though she spent most of her life in bed.”
She didn’t worry about things outside of her power.
That would be nice.
I thought about all the things worrying me, and I knew I had no power over any of it, but that didn’t stop me from worrying.
More people woke up every day, and soon we were going to run out of standing room—not to mention there wasn’t much food or water in the Clinic.
I hadn’t realized until the waking people began to complain about hunger, but that had never been a worry before. Sure, there’d been times we had to look for water, but other than the occasional fruit, we hadn’t needed a lot. Rick guessed it had to do with the simulation—like the people who created it knew people would be asleep for a while and they didn’t want to have to worry about feeding them, so the simulation took care of it.
As for the Reality Dreamers, he said it was probably just taking longer for the effects to wear off since we weren’t fully awake.
I didn’t really understand how it worked, but Rick’s theory explained why only those who’d woken from the simulation needed food, while we were fine, so I didn’t argue against the idea.
We’d had to ration all the food we’d found in the Clinic, and though we were alright for now, I worried the waking wouldn’t be quite so easy-going about the rations once more people woke up and the supplies started to go faster.
We also had to take trips outside the Clinic for water every few hours with small groups of the waking, and I hated it. We had guns and we hadn’t run into any Entities yet, but I knew they were out there somewhere, and I dreaded the day when they ventured past the invisible barrier that protected us for the time being.
Mom stepped away from the podium and a surge of guilt shot through me. I hadn’t heard much of what she’d said.
I wished for the millionth time that my family had believed me about the Reality Dreams. It would be so wonderful to confide in them, to have their help. Dad was a genius with strategy, and Mom’s support would be such a relief.
But ever since that disastrous night when I’d failed to convince them about what was really going on, I’d avoided the subject completely. I had enough problems without adding to the tension in my family.
I didn’t even try to listen to the other people who talked about Ms. Erikson’s life.
I couldn’t lie—I didn’t want to be here. A funeral would’ve been bad enough, but the fact it was Ms. Erikson’s really bothered me. Though I hadn’t exactly been responsible for what happened to her, I felt like I was partly to blame. After all, I’d been there when we’d shut down the simulation, her last line of defense against the parasite that had finally killed her.
&
nbsp; A part of me tried to argue that she’d been suffering and at least now she wasn’t sick anymore. But I couldn’t help wondering if there was a way to help the infected—somewhere, somehow.
I hated to think our meddling had cost Ms. Erikson her life, and I didn’t want to consider how many others were going to die, all because a bunch of kids had played with something they didn’t understand.
I couldn’t imagine how Rick felt. He was the one who couldn’t leave the computer alone, the one who had figured out how to turn off the simulation. He’d pushed the button.
The funeral stretched for almost two hours, and then we all walked behind the casket to the cemetery. The grave had already been dug, and it looked ominous and huge. The pallbearers set the heavy box beside the grave and the clergyman stepped forward. He read some verses of scripture that did little to comfort anyone, then he recited a brief, emotionless prayer over the grave.
While most of the people wandered away, Dad and a few others stayed behind to lower the casket and fill the grave. Before they replaced the dirt, Mom knelt and dropped a grim bouquet of flowers on top of the casket with a rush of tears.
Dad and the other men worked silently, dropping shovelfuls of gray dirt into the grave, gradually covering the box and Mom’s flowers.
Ellie and I stood silently to the side as they worked, and though I just wanted to be done with this, I didn’t speak or move.
When the grave was filled, all that remained was a slightly raised line of dirt and a rough headstone with Ms. Erikson’s name and a pair of dates scratched onto it.
Mom was still crying, and she set another bouquet at the base of the stone. She whispered something softly, like she was saying her final goodbye.
The other men wandered away and then it was only the four of us beside the fresh grave. Mom cried for a few more minutes, then Dad gently brought her to her feet. Without a word, he guided her out of the cemetery. Ellie and I followed just as quietly.
No one spoke on the way home, and it felt like the longest distance I’d ever walked, though the cemetery was about as far away as the schoolhouse. The heavy silence made it seem like an eternity.
When we reached the crossroads to the other side of town, I looked wistfully down the road and wished Leah was here. I didn’t know what I’d say to her, but it would be nice to talk to someone who trusted me.
I considered asking permission to visit Leah, but I was sure Mom and Dad would say ‘no’. Though they hadn’t said as much, I knew they secretly worried she was embellishing my ‘wild stories’, and they certainly didn’t want that.
If I didn’t get to see Leah every night in the Reality Dreams, I would have been outraged. But I decided this was a sacrifice I could make, especially if it helped Mom and Dad get over our argument.
When we got home, Mom went to her room to be alone.
Dad pulled me and Ellie aside in the kitchen. “This has been hard on Mom. It’s going to take some time for her to get back to normal, so I need you two to be extra helpful.” He glanced toward me, but didn’t meet my eyes, which hurt. Ever since the argument, he hadn’t looked straight at me.
“You mean like make dinner for her?” Ellie asked in a small voice.
Dad smiled tiredly, his broad shoulders slouching. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ellianna.”
Ellie beamed and ran to the cupboards to see what our options were.
I looked at Dad uncertainly. “Do you want to help?”
I hated that I couldn’t talk to my dad anymore. We had always been able to talk. Now it was awkward and painful.
Dad frowned, though again he didn’t look me in the eye. “I have some errands to run. Why don’t you help Ellie and let Mom rest. Try to keep things quiet.”
I nodded, but I felt hollow.
Dad didn’t linger. In moments he was out the door, and at last it was just me and Ellie.
I’d always had a bond with Ellie. I mean, we were siblings and had our fair share of disagreements, but ever since the argument, she was the only one who didn’t treat me like a ticking bomb. She never talked about the argument, and whenever Mom or Dad mentioned it she’d get quiet, but most of the time she treated me like she always had.
“Jonas!” Ellie kept her voice low so as not to bother Mom. “I can’t reach the flour.”
I relaxed enough to smile. “See, that’s what big brothers are for.”
I pulled the flour down from the top shelf and she nodded approvingly.
“That’s why I keep you around.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I feel so loved.”
Ellie smirked, her shining blue eyes an exact copy of my own. “You should.” She dragged out Mom’s battered cookbook and flipped through the pages with an aloof expression.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Ellie tossed me a dirty look, though a grin bubbled just beneath the surface. “Are you going to help me with dinner or not, Jonas?”
I gave her a mock salute. “Just tell me what to do, Commander Ellie.”
She laughed, and for one moment everything felt right.
Acknowledgements
Is it that time again? This project took longer than I expected, but at the same time it flew by!
First off, I need to thank the awesome people who helped me in the editing process (the long and often painful process that it is): Ashley Hansen, your help and suggestions were invaluable; Heather Frost, your insights are unendingly helpful; and, of course, Mamsie, who sees things that even the most scrupulous editor would miss —you guys are great!
Also, thank you to my family and friends who have all been so supporting of this venture. I couldn’t do it without your love, encouragement, and support. And an extra big thank you to Mom and Dad—you made me who I am today, and I couldn’t ask for better parents.
I want to thank my Heavenly Father as well for blessing me with a love of reading and the opportunity and ability to share my own stories with others.
And last, but certainly not least, I want to thank you for reading this book. What would an author be without her readers? Well, basically she would be a hermit who concocted stories in solitude and then talked to herself about them. Thank you for saving me from that.
About the Author
K. M. Frost was brought up surrounded by books and imagination, and has loved stories of all kinds her whole life. She comes from a large, loving family which shaped her into who she is today. K. M. Frost lives in Northern Utah. She is also the author of Reality Dreamers, the first book in The Reality Dreamers Trilogy.
To learn more, please go to: www.kmfrost.com, or follow K. M. Frost on Facebook and Goodreads.