by Lin Kaymer
Coach has that right.
After practice, I ride home with Ben. At dinner, it feels good to sit and listen to Mom and Dad talk about their upcoming week. Mom has spoken with Mackie’s mom, who reports no change in Mackie. But in another conversation, Natalie Cameron told Mom that Brody would be sent home soon.
Brody is fine, but Mackie is still in a coma. Of course.
I find it hard not being with Mackie. Other than feeling kind of depressed, the weird thing with my skin continues. The tugging sensation happens more often now. It comes and goes at odd times of the day. Maybe it has something to do with my cold water swim.
By Wednesday, things settle down at school. I can go to class and eat lunch without someone wanting to discuss Mackie or Brody. The rumor that I’m responsible for Brody’s injuries has died. At least no one brings it up to me again.
As for Brody, I don’t expect to hear from him. Having seen the severity of his wounds I doubt he’ll do much of anything for a while. My focus stays on Mackie. I have no sympathy for Brody.
Mackie. How did she end up in the water? Other than having hypothermia from being so cold, she has no injuries, no marks that I could see when I pulled her out. That is so different from Brody.
Also, there was the expression on her face when she lay on the boat deck. She’d looked fine, like nothing was wrong, nothing to worry about. None of it adds up.
Friday after school, Wes and Ty attend our home meet set to start at four thirty. All of our school’s home meets begin late-afternoon because it takes time for our opponents to reach the island by ferry.
I feel kind of pukey in the locker room before the run, and manage to pull it together when I see Ryan in his pre-race routine, with his earbuds in place, staring into space. This part of my life hasn’t changed. It comforts me to see Cole speed-talking as usual, Ethan looking like he might upchuck at any moment, Ben meditating on his feet, and Coach looking like he wants to suit up and run the course himself.
Coach brings us together before the start.
“All right, gentlemen, you have an excellent opportunity to better your times today. We have a light wind out of the south, the temperature is warm enough to run in your T-shirts, and it’s dry.
“You have the advantage. You know the ins and outs of this race better than any other guys running on our course today. Stick to your plan. Remember what we talked about on Monday, and how you’re going to run. Visualize and make it happen. Now, I want everyone in the box on time and ready for the start. Let’s get it!”
We do our team clap and jog, to warm up. My mind lets go of everything else, and I concentrate on how I want to start out slower than usual and pick it up in the middle of the race. That’s what Coach has had me working on for the last week and a half. Then I’ll kick it at the end.
My plan goes well. I finish eighth and shave ten seconds off my best home time. Ryan takes first and Cole comes in third. Coach jumps up and down at the finish, and our team wins the meet.
After the race, Ty and Wes wave to me, and I walk over to them.
“My man,” Wes says. “You kicked butt. I wish you could’ve seen the guy’s face in front of you when you blew by him at the finish. He didn’t know you were behind him.”
“Seriously,” Ty adds.
I’m too tired to say much, but I accept their congratulations with a smile. It felt great to crank myself at the end, like pushing toward something just beyond my reach.
After the meet, I go out for pizza with some of the guys on the team. Since Brody isn’t around, the atmosphere feels a lot looser. Or maybe that’s just how it feels to me. I’m more optimistic about most things without Brody.
When I walk in the house, it’s almost seven o’clock. I find Mom and Dad in the kitchen.
“Would you like to visit Mackie tonight?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, when can we go?”
“Now,” she says. She picks up her car keys and asks if I want to drive. As we leave, Dad says to be careful.
I don’t get to drive too often because my parents share one car. I almost never drive in Seattle. During the ride to the ferry, Mom asks about my week, but doesn’t press.
“It was okay, a little weird at first,” I reply. “It’s tough because no one knows what happened to Mackie or Brody, and I don’t have answers. Some of the guys thought maybe I was the one who hurt Brody.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I said I found Brody after he was messed up, and called it in. Since neither Mackie nor Brody could tell me what happened, there wasn’t anything else to add.”
“Did they believe what you said?”
“Seems like it.”
“Natalie Cameron called to say that Brody will go home after he has plastic surgery. And she sounded quite concerned about Mackie, too,” Mom says.
“Yeah, I have the impression that Mackie gets along fine with Brody’s mom. It’s Brody she has a problem with.”
“What kind of problem?”
Usually I would have shut up there, but since it’s just the two of us, I reply, “He’s been bugging her. Like sending messages all the time and claiming that she owes him something. He annoys her. A lot.”
“She told you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Jeremy, from what Brody’s mother said, he doesn’t recall what happened to him. He can’t remember being attacked, or when you arrived. I think the police may want to talk with you again.”
“Why? I didn’t do anything to him.”
“Of course not, but it’s their job to figure out how Brody got hurt. If the police want to see you, we’re going to hire an attorney,” Mom says.
After driving onto the ferry, we stay in the car. Though the car is in park, I grip the steering wheel anyway. I do not want to deal with Officers Dade and Kale again. It’s been clear from the start that they suspect me. If I have to talk with them another time, I will only repeat what I said to them earlier. And according to the Seattle attorney, Lexa McCarthy, I shouldn’t say anything more to them without having a lawyer present.
It’s a quiet ride the rest of the way as I reflect on my recent, strange life.
At the hospital, Mrs. Spence meets us in the lobby and stays to talk with my mom while I head to the third floor to see Mackie. In the elevator, the tugging sensation on my skin starts again. This has happened three times in the last two hours. What’s up?
Mackie looks exactly the same as when I left her on Sunday except that her dark hair is pulled up on top of her head in a ponytail. Her skin color looks perfectly normal, like she might, at any moment, sit up and break out with a laugh and her mischievous sidelong glance.
I sit on a chair close to her bed and stare at her computer monitor. That’s when the feeling of something tugging at my skin becomes more like something pulling. I’m being pulled closer to Mackie!
As I edge my chair forward, my knees touch the bed rail. I take her hand in mine. She doesn’t move. The pressure increases, now from behind. I’m being pushed to lean over her!
I don’t know what to do, so I finally stand up and put my hands on her arms, like I’m going to lift her. I start to get the shakes.
Then, just like on the boat, her eyes fly open wide. But this time, she looks up into my eyes, opens her mouth, and says in a voice so clear it could be moving with the current of running water.
“Jeremy.”
CHAPTER 13
On Sunday at noon, two days after she opened her eyes and spoke my name, the hospital discharges Mackie. The doctors kept her the extra days for observation. Since she’s been fully conscious and her vital signs and test numbers have stayed normal, they release her with a warning not to overdo things. As her parents and Noelle drive Mackie back to the island, she sends me a message from her mother’s phone:
Meet me, 1 hour! My house!
I give it forty-five minutes and run to the Spences’ home. When he sees me, Gus bumps his nose against the front window and wags his propeller of a tail. I
wait on the porch swing until the Spences’ car turns into their drive.
Mackie opens the car door and stands. She looks fine. Better than fine . . . great!
In five running steps I hold her in a hug. When she puts her head on my chest and wraps her arms around me, I have never felt so relieved.
“Mackie, you go ahead now. It’s cold out here,” Mr. Spence scolds.
Mackie smiles and takes my hand as we walk into the house. Gus somersaults around the hallway corner to reach her side.
Everyone heads for the kitchen. Noelle butts in front of us; then apologizes. Wonders never cease. She asks if we want to watch a movie with the rest of them after eating. Whatever Mackie wants to do is okay with me, as long as we are together. We sit at the kitchen breakfast nook while the Spences place a variety of foods in front of her.
“Stop. Please,” Mackie says. “If I eat too much, I’ll get sick. Can I have some time to talk with Jeremy? I’m not really up for a movie.”
“Mackie, honey,” Mr. Spence says. “You’re looking like you need to eat. Come on now, I made barbecue last night, all your favorites, and we have leftovers.” He waves a drumstick.
“Sure, Dad, I’ll eat while I talk with Jeremy. Okay?”
And, with that, we are alone, sitting across from each other at the small table, a plate of warmed barbecue, cole slaw, beans, and biscuits between us.
Mackie puts a finger to her lips and says, “Shhh . . . Mademoiselle Nosy will hear every word. Does my dear sister need something from the kitchen?” she finishes loudly.
Noelle struts in and pretends she needs a glass of water. She nods to both of us and tosses her head on the way out.
“She never stops,” Mackie says with a sigh, as she pushes the plate of food to one side.
I reach across the table and place my fingertips against her fingertips.
“Tell me what happened.” I say, knowing I shouldn’t push since it’s her first day back. But I’m beyond asking questions. I need answers to keep me from feeling crazy.
“Yeah. This has to stay between us, okay?”
I frown.
“Promise,” she says.
“Yes, I promise.”
She takes my hands in hers and holds them on top of the table.
“This is really important. You have to mean it. Like, telling someone what I say could cost you your life.” She pauses to gauge my reaction. I lift my eyebrows and nod.
“Brody has wanted to get me away from everyone, and I think I’ve figured out why.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, and lean forward.
She moves her hands from mine and sits back in her chair. Her eyes size me up like she will test me.
Where is this going?
“You know how in science we talk about hypotheticals? You know, a theory that’s assumed to exist. Well, let’s think of this as a hypothetical situation. So, hypothetically, what if you were right about me being a descendant of Akeso? Let’s assume she really lived and her father was Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine. Let’s suppose I’m an incarnation or some latest version of her, and this time my name is Mackie. I heal wild animals, and have this connection that allows the animals to pull me to them when one is sick or wounded. ‘How?’ you might ask.”
“Yeah, I’m asking,” I barely choke the words out. This is way beyond what I thought she’d say.
“Do you remember the information we read on your computer about Asclepius?”
“I remember some of it.”
She pours a glass of water, and sets it in front of me.
“I know this is wild, but stay with me, okay? It’s going to make sense,” she says.
I put the glass to my lips, not moving my eyes from hers.
“The god Apollo has a son, Asclepius, who becomes the god of medicine. Asclepius marries Epione, and they have children. Akeso is one of them. Like her sisters, Akeso is very good at what she does. She knows how to heal and cure because it’s in her genetic code, from Apollo, to Asclepius, to her. Right?”
Mackie stops, pours herself a glass of water, and sips. I gulp at mine.
“As the daughter of a demigod, Akeso finds herself drawn to the sick and wounded. One day, she feels pulled to the shore. She sees a pair of dolphins who float without moving. Akeso dives in and swims to them. She knows that they will live, but she may die. Their healing has been too much for her body.”
“Did you read this somewhere?” I ask her.
“No. I’m telling you this because it’s something I remembered when I was in my coma in the hospital. Well, let’s suppose I remembered. Since it’s all hypothetical.”
I lean further forward, put my elbows on the table, and cup my chin with my hands. This is some story.
“So Akeso’s in the water, dying. After healing the dolphins, she doesn’t have enough energy left to swim back to shore. All of a sudden, right in front of her, Poseidon, the god of the sea, appears. He looks at the dolphins and knows that she’s the reason they’re still alive. And he sees that Akeso won’t make it back to the shore.
“Poseidon loves his dolphins. He asks Apollo to save her. Apollo finds a protector for Akeso. His name is Aleksander. Aleksander swims out to rescue her. And he always stays near Akeso, so that he can save her whenever her energy gets too low.”
I bite my lip. This is fascinating, but of course it’s only a story, maybe a dream or hallucination she had while she was in the coma. There is no way to prove any of it.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m following you. But Akeso would have died and so would Aleksander. What makes you think they come back? That they live over and over again?”
“Akeso and Aleksander aren’t immortal. They die just like all humans. But she’s the child of a demigod and Aleksander’s attached to her. They reincarnate almost as soon as they die. Akeso’s reborn so she can heal animals. Aleksander comes back to save her if her energy gets low and she’s in trouble. Do you see where this is going?”
I shake my head. Nope.
“Ah, Jer, you were the one who spelled out Akeso on the Ouija board. How did you come up with that name?”
I open my mouth and close it. I can’t answer that question.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” she says and waits.
“This is all hypothetical, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was thinking of the words you put on the board, DANGER and DARK WATER. The next thing I knew I picked out the letters for SAVE AKESO.”
“So there was a connection between all of those words for you?”
“Maybe. But I can’t prove it.”
She’s quiet for a bit.
“Okay, let’s talk about what happened on the boat. You know Brody had my phone all the time, right?”
“Yeah, after Jilly called me I figured it out. Brody. What a jerk.” I reach for her hands again and she places hers, palms down, in mine.
“Brody knew exactly what he was doing. He took my phone so he could get me alone. He really wanted to hurt me, and used my phone as bait. When I went to his house, I couldn’t find him. I waited for what felt like hours. Then, he finally came out of the house and told me my phone was on the sailboat. As soon as we were on the boat, he picked me up and held me out over the side, above the water. I panicked. I could tell he wasn’t playing around. He really wanted to hurt me,” she repeats, and looks down, seeming to remember how bad that moment had felt.
I nod and hold tight to her hands.
“I was hanging there, over the water, when I saw a shadow. I knew it was an eagle right away, but Brody didn’t. At least he didn’t look up. When she dove it was beautiful. And awful.”
“I could tell an eagle had nailed him,” I say. “Remind me to thank Number 26 the next time I see her.”
“When she attacked Brody, he dropped me on the deck, and I crawled away from him. He tried to push her off, but she dug her talons in and started using her beak and claws. He couldn’t fight her off.”
> “Yeah, I found him below deck. He was next to an empty bottle of gin. I guess he tried to numb the pain.”
“After she finished with him, she flew off. I didn’t think he could see, because he had blood in his eyes. I tried to help him sit up, but he threw me against the side of the boat. And that’s how I fell in the water.”
I pat her hand. I can see how it had all played out.
“It felt just like when our sailboat capsized in June. When I hit the water, I couldn’t catch my breath. I think I stopped breathing. Then I felt peaceful. It felt safe in the water, safer than on the boat. There was nothing to worry about. I saw some otters swimming toward me. That’s all I remember.
“Maybe I went into the coma then. Whatever was happening to me, or Brody; it all stopped. The next thing I knew, you were above me, looking in my eyes and it was nighttime, but I couldn’t say anything.”
“That was on the boat deck, after I hauled you out of the water. I thought you were dead. Really. Mackie, you felt so cold, and your skin had turned blue. It was bad.”
This time, she pats my hand.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” she says. “I wanted to see you again and thank you. I could hear my voice calling your name, but you didn’t come. It kept happening before I woke up in the hospital. That was when I felt your hands on my arms, like you would pick me up. You brought me out of the coma. You saved me. Twice.”
She holds both my hands, tightly, and I see tears on her cheeks through my own tears. I don’t know what to say. All the details of her story make sense, but no sense. I lean over the table and run my hands up over her arms, and then back down to her hands. When I stop, she turns her palms up and I place my hands over hers. Our skin temperatures match. How do I know that?
“So why do you think Brody did it? Why did he want to hurt you?”
She gives me a quick grin, like she still has a secret. “You remember I told you that I feel like I know Brody. Better than I know just about anyone.” She pauses and frowns. “He’s fascinating in a bad way. Like a scary déjà vu. Maybe Brody fits into the reincarnation picture. Do you feel like you know him, too?”