Crashing Souls

by Cynthia A. Rodriguez

  I twisted the knob and adjusted the water before stepping under the spray. There was a soothing moment when I tipped my head back and just existed.

  I noted the large scar running down the center of my knee. I didn’t know how long it’d take the stitches under my skin to dissolve, but I didn’t worry too much about the healing process. Dex seemed to be a healthy guy.

  I stepped out, towel-dried my hair, and set about trimming what I considered a beard.

  When I opened the door to the bathroom, a towel around my waist, I heard Tracey singing along to the Christmas music playing in the kitchen. She was banging on some pot or pan and I could imagine her dancing around the kitchen, much like she had last night. I grinned and hobbled to my room.

  I looked through the choices of clothes in Dexter’s dresser and closet. He wasn’t a typical computer dweeb. He certainly didn’t look the type, but it seemed he didn’t dress the part either. All of his clothes looked like they’d been chosen with care and an attempt to keep up an image. There were T-shirts, sure. But they weren’t worn or stained. No fraying on jeans, no grungy sweats. What did he wear around the house? I managed to dig up a pair of worn jeans, an undershirt and a blue sweatshirt. It was plain, but as I pulled it over the undershirt, I felt the softness of it.

  I walked over to his desk and powered on his computer, hoping there was no password. When his desktop opened up, I grinned. I looked through his documents and photos, ignoring the guilt that was buzzing in my ear like an annoying fly. Everything looked unremarkable, except for a few documents that were filled with codes of sorts. My eyes scanned over the series of symbols, letters, and numbers and it clicked.

  I understood everything.

  The language of computers wasn’t foreign to me and the inner panic that I’d shoved aside began to fade. I clicked through and realized with fascination that I was knowledgeable, advanced, even. The further I inspected, the more I uncovered. Dexter had been corresponding with MIT, and his inbox was full of conversations with professors.

  I spent hours on the computer, and when Tracey called for me to get ready for Ralph’s game, it felt like it had been only half the time that actually passed.

  •••

  I stepped out into the autumn air nervously, a black wool jacket I’d found in Dex’s closet kept me warm. I chuckled at the scarf Tracey insisted I wear, the way she tucked it made me feel like the turkey she’d cooked all morning.

  “Don’t be nervous, kiddo. You’ve done this a million times. It’s tradition.” She bumped me with her shoulder, and I climbed into her car after placing my crutches in the backseat.

  “Except I don’t remember any of it,” I whispered to myself as she made her way to the driver’s side.

  When she sat in the seat, she looked down at the keys in her hand, not yet pushing them into the ignition. “I get that Ralph will be upset if you don’t want to go. But you don’t have to. I really want to shield you from the world.” She jangled the keys in her hands.

  “Why? It’s okay.” I stared at Dex’s clothes. I wasn’t comfortable. I felt like it wasn’t me. Because it wasn’t. I was an imposter; I dressed like him, looked like him, but I wasn’t him. And Tracey still loved me. So did Ralph. I could stand being the center of attention in my itchy sweater for a few hours for them. Noble. I thought back on the Angel of Death’s perception of me. Had he been right?

  “I guess I’m feeling a little protective. I don’t know. I’m being stupid.” She shook her head, as if she were getting rid of the ‘stupid’ inside of it.

  “It’s not stupid,” I said, wanting her to be comfortable enough to tell me how she felt. “What’s stupid is this itchy sweater I’m wearing.”

  She started the car with a chuckle. “It’s actually one of your favorites. Cost me a pretty penny, that one did.”

  “Why did I dress like this? And why the shiny car that I hate to get dirty?” What I wanted to ask was how she could even stand someone like Dexter. He seemed to be a puzzle to me. In a superficial relationship, his life full of superficial things.

  One thing was certain: I wouldn’t be living the way he had. I didn’t want that sort of relationship. In fact, my body craved the relationship I’d died being in. Sure, I could hardly remember that love. But I was sure when I saw it, I’d know it. There was no way I wouldn’t recognize it. I was living for it.

  “It’s what you liked. The car was your dad’s, but I think it made you feel more adult. I think it was a control thing. You lost your parents; your life was out of control. You became an adult overnight.” She drove through the town with a personal sense of direction, and while some things tickled the back of my mind, most of it was a blur of buildings I couldn’t connect with.

  “I feel like I’m stuck in some Charles Dickens fantasy land. But instead of having ghosts of past, present, and future, I’m stuck with the sins of another life.”

  “Sins?” She looked at me with a frown before watching the road again. “You’re still growing up, Dex. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

  I had no idea what Dexter had gone through, and despite being in his shoes now, I knew nothing about the way things were before. I only knew what happened since I’d woken up. The rest of the ride to the high school was silent.

  When we neared, I saw the packed parking lot and my nerves hit me with sudden force. I was struck by the knowledge that I’d have to see people and most likely interact with them. I wondered if they knew about my “amnesia” and what they’d heard about the accident. Was it too late to turn back? They’d blame me. I’d blame me. It was stupid to have run out in the middle of the road.

  “You positive you want to do this?” she whispered after she slid smoothly into a parking spot away from the other cars.

  “I feel like you’re trying to talk me out of it. More and more I’m wanting to escape back into my room where everything makes sense. Well, most things.” I looked out into the crowd of people buying their tickets. “But we have to go in. Ralph deserves it.” I opened the door and pushed myself out of the car, reaching back to grab my crutches. With them tucked safely under my arms, I turned and we headed to the gaggle of people who’d already begun to notice me.

  A few of them stared, some whispered, but more often than not, they nodded and smiled. And when I reached them, some spoke, wishing me well and telling me they were happy I could make it.

  “See? Nothing to be worried about,” Tracey said, smoothing her hands over her jeans. Her soft tone indicated that the need to say it was more for herself than for me. People stepped aside, letting me go all the way to the front of the line. We purchased our tickets from a girl whose face reddened with each word I said. I tried to keep the verbiage to a minimum, afraid she’d eventually burst. Tracey took the tickets from her outstretched hand, and when I prepared to move my crutches to step away, I heard the girl in the ticket booth tell me to have a great day. I turned back to her, a smile stretched across my face.

  “Same to you,” I said, noting her quivering lips. Tracey came up beside me, keeping pace with me as we headed to the stands.

  “You probably made her dreams come true, you know.” She slid her eyes my way with a smirk.

  I shrugged. “She was nice. I was nice back.”

  “As if you don’t know that all of these girls are in love with you. Okay. You may’ve forgotten. So, I’ll tell you. All of these girls are in love with you.” She laughed when I rolled my eyes. “When I got custody of you, all I could think was, how the hell am I going to keep the chicks off my lawn? I was once a teenage girl. I know how messy it gets. Prepared for that, I am not.”

  “Have I given you much trouble in that department?” I asked as she led me to an empty bleacher far from the crowd. She’d managed to keep us away from the entrance as well. It seemed we both weren’t looking forward to seeing and being seen.

  “Surprisingly, no. Your parents raised you to be respectful to women and you always have been. When you linked up with Becca, I think you fig
ured it was what was expected of you. Woman experience, I mean. Before that, you went on a few dates. Nothing serious. Not that I’d call your experience with Becca serious. But, I must say, she was the first who could ever get you to call her back.”

  “I told you all of this?”

  She nodded, her cheeks pink from the cool air. “I told you, we used to be sort of close.” She bumped her shoulder into mine. “And I’d give you lady advice. You used to ask all sorts of questions.”

  “Like what?” She scrunched her nose and I chuckled. “That bad?”

  “Not bad. Just funny.” Her body language changed and her voice deepened as she tried to imitate me. “Why do they get mad when I don’t call? I never promised them anything. What’s it like to be with someone of actual substance? I don’t think I could ever fall in love. Please don’t tell me you were anything like them, Aunt Tracey.” She was in a fit of giggles by the end.

  “What’s it like to be with someone of actual substance?” I asked.

  “Yep, you totally asked me that one. Always the tough questions.” Her eyes were on the field.

  “No, I’m asking again.” I pulled the scarf closer to me and rubbed my hands together, looking out at the field as well. I felt her gaze on the side of my face, but I didn’t want to see the pity I knew would be in her eyes.

  “You’ll know it when you have it,” she whispered. “But you have plenty of time for that. Just have fun.”

  We sat in silence, watching the game. The home team was winning. I didn’t know how, but I knew Ralph was number 24. He walked with the same dominance and bulldozing swagger that he had when I first saw him. I watched him weave through players and take someone down. It looked painful.

  Tracey cheered beside me, her cheeks still pink. I watched the crowd after a while. Most everyone’s eyes were on the game. But there were the few who watched me with indiscernible eyes.

  Before we knew it, half-time was upon us. Tracey wiggled her legs nervously before jumping up and announcing that she needed hot chocolate. I was moving my crutches to let her pass when she said she wanted me to accompany her.

  “Besides, you need to take your meds.”

  The excuse didn’t make any sense, but before I could say as much, she was helping me up and we were off. I struggled to keep up, and when Tracey noticed, she slowed down, apologizing. The speakers crackled to life.

  “On this Thanksgiving Day, we would like to honor the lives that were lost tragically just a few weeks ago.”

  Tracey’s eyes widened and she pulled at me, insisting we get to the concession stand. The rest of the words were lost in the crowd. When Tracey noticed the long line for hot chocolate, she pursed her lips, thinking of something else to get me away from the field and whatever the speaker was saying. I didn’t blame her. People knew I’d come and I couldn’t sit in the bleachers, accepting the blame for the loss of those lives.

  “I’m actually, uh, not feeling so great. Can we head home?”

  Tracey nodded sympathetically. I figured Ralph would understand. At least I’d been there for half of the game.

  Chapter 6

  I’d been tinkering on my computer when I heard voices downstairs. My stomach grumbled just as Ralph pushed my bedroom door open.

  “Hey, shit head. We won. Way to ditch.” His voice was loud compared to the silence I’d just been surrounded by. When I opened my mouth to explain, he laughed. “I’m just kidding, man. Aunt Tracey filled me in.” He lay on my bed, his feet dangling from the edge. His blonde hair was wet from a recent shower, bringing out the slight redness of it.

  “Hungry?” I asked, smelling the scent of food from the now-open bedroom door.

  He rolled over to face me. “You have no idea. My parents wanted me to eat with them, but I wasn’t up for General Tso’s. I want some turkey, dang it.”

  “Food’s ready!” At the sound of Tracey’s voice, Ralph grabbed my crutches, threw my left arm over his shoulder and hoisted me up. We stepped down the stairs carefully, and Ralph helped me over to the table.

  “Those crutches are a thing of the past,” he said as he threw them on the couch.

  “Ha. Not yet, man.” I took a roll and bit into with a groan.

  “I used your mom’s recipes,” Tracey said with a smile as she set the turkey on the table. It looked perfect.

  We sat around the table and Tracey’s eyes shined with pride. She’d given me Thanksgiving. More than that, she’d given me a place at the table and the feeling that I was a part of something.

  •••

  Physical therapy was brutal the next morning. I was almost able to walk without crutches though, a feat that made me happy. I didn’t want to go to school needing them. Part of me didn’t want to go at all. Whether I looked like I’d been hit by a car or not, people would have their opinions. And while the game was all right, I worried school would be something else entirely. I wouldn’t have Tracey, and not all of my classes were with Ralph.

  I started my therapy with a psychiatrist and the sessions were short. You couldn’t do much with a person missing all of their memories. I didn’t dare speak of the Angel of Death. That would land me in the psychiatric ward. He assured me that, if I relaxed and took it day by day, I’d likely have flashbacks and memories. I nodded, treating him with the same patience that I did Aunt Tracey, knowing he was wrong.

  “Looks like you haven’t forgotten the computer crap after all,” Ralph said, throwing a miniature football in my direction. He came over after school and dropped off my homework.

  “Seems like it.” I picked up the ball and threw it back at him.

  “So, you’re still headed to that fancy school, I’m guessing.”

  I looked down at the computer keys.

  “I think so. It’s easier that way, to go through with plans already made than to back out and do something else. I feel like I was given a gift.” I looked over at him. “What about you?”

  He fell back on my bed, tossing the ball up and catching it before answering. “I was offered a football scholarship with USC. Los Angeles sounds fun. I’ll probably do that, get my bachelor’s and figure it out from there.”

  “Opposite ends of the country, huh?” I swiveled my chair to face him.

  He stood. “Yeah. What’s losing one more friend?” He set the football down on my desk and walked out of my room. I expected annoyance and maybe anger. But not Ralph’s sadness.

  I climbed down the steps slowly, hoping to catch him before he left. By the time I made it to the front door, he was pulling out of my driveway in his dad’s pickup truck.

  “Damn it,” I said under my breath.

  “Everything all right?” Tracey asked, stepping into the living room.

  “Yeah. I think I upset Ralph. We got to talking about plans after high school.” I sat, running my hands through my hair, setting it in disarray.

  She chuckled. “You guys never saw eye-to-eye on that subject. I’m thinking he figures you won’t remember, so you won’t go. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He’s got his own issues to sort through.”

  I nodded and reached for the hair tie on my wrist, pulling my hair back into a bun.

  “You ready for school?” Her eyes were looking for any signs of wariness. I knew it, so I kept my face impassive.

  “Should be fun.”

  She sat next to me. “Is it bad that I’m the only one freaking out about it? I shouldn’t always be freaking out, right?”

  “Don’t freak out, Tracey. Everything will be fine. I’ve almost finished my homework, and everything will be fine.” She was supposed to be comforting me, but I was content to do it for her.

  “You don’t think it’s too soon?” Her eyebrows lifted at the question, still watching for signs of distress.

  Yes. “No.”

  “We still have the weekend together,” she said. “Want to see a chick flick with me?”

  “Sure.” I pushed off the couch carefully with a smile. “Let me know when. I’m gonna go finis
h my homework.”

  “How did I ever get so lucky? A kid who does his homework without having to be told.” She pranced off dramatically, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I was beginning to love Tracey. Not because she was my aunt but because she was a wonderful, quirky person.

  I was lucky. Dex had been lucky. For all of the trouble he’d given Tracey, she was an unwavering support system who’d loved him through it all—his biggest cheerleader.

  Yes, I was lucky.

  •••

  When we pulled up to the house after the movie, I saw Ralph sitting on our stoop. I got out and, using one crutch, walked up to him.

  “You good, man?” I asked, tempted to sit my crippled body next to his.

  He looked up, his eyes red. He looked tired.

  “I’m good. I feel like shit but I’m good. Mind if I crash here? I promise not to bitch at you anymore.” There was a ghost of a smile, but that was all I got.

  “Language, Ralph,” Tracey said as she sidestepped us to open the front door. “You’re always welcome here. Just call your parents and let them know.” She let herself in and I stood, watching my breath leave my mouth in clouds against the cold air.

  Ralph stood. “You all right with it?”

  “Only if you don’t bitch at me,” I said with a chuckle, clapping my free hand over his shoulder. When he smiled, I wanted to sigh. As much as I liked Ralph, I hated when I felt like I didn’t know what was going on with him. I didn’t feel entitled to the details of his life. I figured it’d come with time. If he needed me, he’d let me know. If he needed space, he’d stop coming around. I was only going to follow his lead.

  “Look,” he started as he entered my room, rubbing his hands over his face. “Shit, I don’t know. I don’t like that you’re going. But I’m proud of you. Always have been.”

  I nodded, not sure if I should respond.

  “That accident changed a lot of things. But I’m glad I have you, Dex. Don’t forget that, not even when I do.” He sat on my bed and I sat at my desk, spinning my chair to face him.

  “We’re fine in my book,” I said, unsure if anything else was worth saying.