The Last Words We Said

by Leah Scheier

  “You ran a long way,” he tells me.

  I don’t know what he’s talking about. All I remember is the glare of the porch light over his face. The tall policeman reaching down to him as he fell. And Danny. Danny was there too.

  “Nearly five miles,” he continues. “While fasting and dehydrated. Unbelievable.”

  I was searching for something. I was still supposed to be searching. I need to tell him how close I was. He’s looking at me and smiling, but there’s no hope in his sad eyes anymore. I want to say the right thing and make them light up again. But I owe him the truth, and I still haven’t paid my debt.

  “Thank God they found you in time,” he says. “It was a miracle they did. A true miracle.”

  A miracle? I’ve heard that word since I was little. That’s what my parents call me. A baby born against all odds. God’s answer to their hope. But, as it turned out, their miracle was this man’s catastrophe.

  “I knew that Danny had been drinking,” I whisper.

  Mr. Edelstein doesn’t react. His expression is unchanged. Did I speak the words out loud, or did I swallow them again?

  “I knew,” I repeat. My voice wavers but I press on. “But I didn’t care. I told Danny to steal the car keys. I told him to do it.”

  He still doesn’t move; it’s as if I’ve paralyzed him with my confession. Maybe he doesn’t realize what it means? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t reacted?

  “He wouldn’t have done it, if I hadn’t pushed him to. He would have stayed back at the house until it was safe. He wouldn’t have gotten in the accident. And he wouldn’t be missing now.”

  There’s finally a spark of understanding in his eyes. He stirs a little; his lips fall open, but he doesn’t speak.

  “I should have told you before,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’m the reason Danny is missing.”

  His face clouds over, but there’s no anger there, as I expected. He places his hand over mine; his fingers are cold and gray like a ghost’s.

  “Danny isn’t missing,” he tells me softly. “They found him last night.”

  A LOSS OF FAITH

  I don’t know the exact moment when I lost Deenie and Rae; they probably hid their doubts from me for a while. We were halfway through February before the truth finally came out.

  I was feeling under the weather, so Rae and Deenie came over with a giant pot of matzo ball soup. The smell of boiling broth wafted through the house and woke me from my nap. I shuffled downstairs as their voices drifted up toward me.

  Rae pointed to a steaming bowl on the counter as I stepped into the room. “There you go. I’m toasting croutons in the oven, if you want to wait a minute.”

  “Could I freeze a container of this?” I asked as I sipped the broth. “It’s fantastic. I want to add it to my collection.”

  “What do you mean? What collection?”

  I pointed to the freezer. “Bottom drawer. So far I have a package of your white chocolate snickerdoodles, three turkey wraps from last week, and a baggie of mushroom pinwheels.”

  Rae frowned and slowly placed the ladle back into the pot. “What are you saving them for?” But I could tell she already knew the answer to her question. I’d just listed Danny’s favorite foods.

  “It’s for when he comes back. I thought we could have a celebration feast.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “Really. You’re planning a feast.”

  Deenie slid off her seat and put her arm around Rae’s shoulders. “Why not? I think it’s a nice idea. And it might happen, you know. So we have to be ready.”

  But her voice gave her away. She was using the placating tone of a mother reasoning with an irrational child. I realized suddenly that she didn’t believe Danny was coming back, any more than Rae did.

  “Exactly,” I said shortly. “We have to be ready for a miracle. You believe in miracles, don’t you, Deenie?”

  She didn’t reply.

  I should have let it go, probably. I should have taken her silence as it was intended—a last attempt to spare my feelings. But I’d heard enough statistics and facts from the police, from reporters, and from well-meaning visitors who already spoke of Danny as someone who had “passed.” I needed a united front from my best friends.

  In this home, at least, Danny was missing, presumed living.

  “You don’t believe, do you, Deenie?” I demanded.

  Rae opened her mouth, but Deenie stopped her before she could speak.

  “It doesn’t matter what we think,” she said. “It’s good that you haven’t given up hope.”

  She might as well have punched me in the gut. “What we think?!” I shouted. “So I’m completely alone in this? I always thought you were on my side!”

  She glanced down at her feet. “We were. We are.”

  “What does that mean?” My eyes welled up, and I blinked the tears away. “I’m right here, Deenie. Look at me! You can be honest with me.”

  “Please don’t cry—”

  “Just tell me!” I insisted. “Is he coming back?”

  “Ellie. I don’t know. I’m not God—”

  “I’m not asking you to be. Just give me a straight answer, okay? Do you believe that Danny is coming back?”

  I didn’t breathe through the pause that followed, and by the time she finally answered, my chest hurt from waiting.

  “I think he’s gone, Ellie,” she whispered. Her eyes filled up. “I’m sorry.”

  I’d lied to her. I didn’t want honesty. Nobody really wants that kind of honesty.

  “Okay,” I said. “Good to know.” I picked up the ladle and pulled out a Tupperware container. Dumped spoonfuls of soup until it overflowed and then slammed on the plastic lid. Walked over to the freezer and jammed the bowl into the bottom drawer.

  Rae and Deenie watched me without commenting; Deenie was crying silently, without bothering to wipe away the tears staining her collar. Rae’s eyes were dry and bloodshot; she kept blinking and sniffing and biting her lips.

  “I’m going to my room,” I announced, banging the freezer door shut. “Don’t follow me.”

  “Ellie, please,” Deenie pleaded. “We didn’t mean to hurt you—”

  “Don’t talk to me,” I shot back. “Unless your next words are ‘They found Danny,’ I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

  Chapter 26

  “They found Danny,” Deenie says.

  Mr. Edelstein had told me, and I’d immediately closed my eyes to shut him out. Then my mother and father sat down on my bed and quietly broke the news to me. Each time someone said it, I tried to focus on the words only, and not the grief behind it. They’d found Danny. Surely that was a good thing. It’s what I had prayed for. God had finally listened.

  But there’s no way to shut out Deenie’s face.

  “They found Danny.” She’s sobbing.

  I don’t ask where. Or who found him. I don’t want to hear the details that everyone already knows. That story doesn’t matter.

  Rae comes into view, sits down at the end of the bed. Her cheeks are raw and blistered from crying. “After the funeral we’ll be sitting shiva with Danny’s father,” she tells me.

  I nod and close my eyes again. I’m wide awake, but it’s easier to pretend weakness at the moment.

  “Ellie,” Rae says, touching my hand.

  I peek at her through heavy lids. “Yeah?”

  “After they discharge you, I thought we could all go over to the Edelsteins’ together. If you’re up to it.”

  Of course I’m up to it. I ran miles to find Danny. But I’d failed to bring him back. So the least I can do is sit next to his father while he grieves. “I’ll go. But I don’t think he’ll want to see me,” I whisper.

  Deenie and Rae exchange looks. “Mr. Edelstein told us what you said,” Rae says softly. “We didn’t know that part of the story. We had no idea you were blaming yourself.”

  “I was afraid to tell you,” I admit. “It’s my fault he’s gone.” It’s a reli
ef to say it, even if it means losing them forever. If I truly love my friends, I can’t keep lying to them. “I’m so sorry.”

  Deenie is shaking as she takes my hand; her fingers tremble over mine. “Ellie. Can I talk to you?”

  “Not now,” Rae urges her, pulling her back. “She’s still weak.”

  “I’m okay.” I’m so relieved that they haven’t turned their backs on me that I’m ready for whatever they have to say, as long as it’s not a rejection. I sit up in the bed to prove my strength. “What’s going on?”

  Deenie takes a long breath and glances back at Rae, who nods her encouragement. She shudders, grips my hand, and the words tumble from her lips.

  “I didn’t know you were blaming yourself,” she says brokenly. “Or I would have spoken sooner. It isn’t your fault, Ellie. It never was.”

  She pauses a moment and waits for me to speak, but I don’t know what to say. How can she think that? She knows what I did. She can’t rewrite this story.

  “Everyone made mistakes that night,” Deenie continues when I don’t reply.

  “Every one of us,” Rae put in.

  Deenie waves her hand, dismissing her. “No, Rae. No. Stop protecting me.”

  “Hold on, what are you saying?” I ask her. “You had nothing to do with it. You weren’t even there that night.”

  Deenie shuts her eyes. “I was,” she whispers. Her head is bowed. “I was there.”

  “I don’t understand.” I glance between Rae’s grave face and Deenie’s tortured one.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her voice is barely audible. There’s a breathless pause that lasts too long.

  “Sorry for what?” I ask hoarsely.

  She slowly raises her eyes to mine. “I was there that night,” she tells me. “And it’s my fault that he’s gone.”

  MY SHADOW

  It was easier to be mad than it was to show them what I was really feeling. So I made a lot of noise heading up to my room; I pushed a chair out of the way, knocked over a plant, slammed my bedroom door. I wanted them to focus on the tantrum. I couldn’t let them see what was beneath it.

  I was terrified. While Deenie and Rae were behind me, I was on solid ground. I could ignore the news stories that turned morbid less than a week after Danny disappeared. I could handle the looks on the cops’ faces when we stopped by to ask about the case. I could deal with my parents’ calm reaction to the “facts” as presented by the investigators. I could even accept that his classmates had stopped sharing Danny’s missing person photo.

  How long could the world hold on? It didn’t matter, as long as the three of us did. As long as his friends believed.

  But I was alone in this now. I’d been alone for a while, and I hadn’t even realized it. I wanted to scream my frustration at Deenie and Rae, but I was afraid of letting them get too close. What if I lost control and let something slip? My guilty secret was right on the tip of my tongue; I was a breath away from letting the truth out, and I just couldn’t risk that. If I told them what I’d done, I’d lose everyone.

  I banged around my room for a little while, venting my misery on stuffed animals and pillows. The photo of the four of us on a roller coaster got thrown about until the glass cracked. I typed and deleted a hundred angry messages to our friend WhatsApp group.

  Then I collapsed on my bed and cried until I fell asleep. I dreamed that the summer had come and the hot Atlanta sun was beating down on me. It was a noisy, sweltering day on the beach, and the spray from the ocean was misting my forehead. I opened my mouth to catch the drops; I was horribly parched, and my skin was burning. I tried to peel the clothes off, but I was wrapped in layers and layers of sheets. Deenie appeared carrying a heavy blanket. “Here you go,” she said, tossing the comforter over me. “Now you’re completely modest.”

  “Deenie, I can’t breathe,” I pleaded.

  She smiled. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”

  When I woke, the room was pulsing with heat. My face was on fire, my lips chapped with thirst.

  I stumbled over to the thermostat and squinted at the dial. Seventy- three degrees. And yet it felt like I was in hell. The room was dense like a sauna; I had to get some air or die. I pulled the curtains open and pushed up the window. A gust of wind made me shiver and cough. I laid my burning forehead against the glass. Gazed into the dark.

  And that was when I saw him.

  Sitting on a tree branch, just a few inches away from me. Dressed in his black polo and muddy gray tennis shoes. His mop of hair wild and shining white in the moonlight. Grinning at me, as if no time had passed.

  “Danny,” I gasped.

  He didn’t answer, just sat there smiling and tapping on the tree branch next to him.

  “You want me to come out?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “But you know I’m not very good at climbing,” I said. One leg was already over the windowsill. “My parents will kill me if they catch me on this tree again. Remember what happened the last time I tried?” I was halfway out already, gripping the shutter with numb fingers.

  “You fell,” he said.

  “Yeah. Almost broke my neck.”

  “Are you afraid?” he asked.

  “No.” I eased myself onto the slick bough. “You know what’s weird, though?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It was warm last night. Where did this ice come from?”

  He looked away. “From you.”

  The moonlight was playing tricks with my eyes. Danny was fading into the dark, the shadows shrouding the contours of his face. “Where have you been all this time?” I asked him.

  “There,” he said, pointing downward. “Look.”

  I leaned over and peered at the ground. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the base of the tree, resting his head against the trunk. He was dressed in his winter coat and hat, but one glove was on the ground next to him; he was texting with his bare hand.

  “So are you going to answer me?” Danny asked. “I’ve been waiting a long time.”

  “I know.” It wasn’t strange to me that Danny was both next to me and also on the ground. The only thing that mattered was letting him know how much I regretted what I’d done. “I wish I’d answered you that night.”

  “So do it now. Come down and talk to me.”

  I took a deep breath and slid back toward the window. “You want me to climb down?”

  He shrugged and stood up on the branch. “Or you can jump with me.”

  I glanced at the ground below. It pitched and swayed beneath me. “It’s kind of far.” The branch shook, and I threw my arms around it to steady myself.

  He leaned over to me and placed an icy hand on my cheek. I shivered under his touch. “So what are you going to do?” he demanded. “How are you going to make this right?”

  I glanced at the miserable, snow-covered Danny on the ground and then looked back into the blazing eyes of Danny’s demon hovering in front of me.

  And suddenly, it was so clear to me. There was only one way to prove my loyalty to him. The rest of the world was trying to bury him alive while I screamed warnings nobody could hear. Danny was counting on me now. So I would do just as he asked. It was the only way to bring him home. And if I was wrong, if Danny wasn’t coming back, and this was all just a feverish dream, then I didn’t care what happened to me. Either ending worked, because either way, I’d be with him.

  I made my mind up to jump. I stood up on the tree branch, reached out for Danny’s hand.

  He stretched his arm out to me and smiled, but as I grasped for him, he pulled away suddenly and stepped back. “We’re not supposed to touch, remember?” he said.

  I cried out and clawed the air. Swayed back and forth in the wind. And then I slipped.

  I told everyone later that it was an accident. That I’d had a fever and wasn’t myself. That I’d made a mistake. Nobody believed me, even though it was true.

  My parents found me at the base of the tree, crumpled and bleeding, my leg bent b
eneath me.

  In the ambulance my mother clasped my hand and demanded what I’d been doing on that tree in the middle of the night.

  And, out of my mind with fever and pain, I let it all spill out. “I wanted to be with Danny,” I sobbed. “And that was the only way.”

  Problem was, that was also true.

  I was introduced to my first psychiatrist while still doped up on painkillers and giddy from fever. I don’t remember his name. He had a patchy beard and breath that smelled like pickles.

  Dr. Pickle didn’t last long. I think he preferred patients who agreed to speak to him.

  The next one was a lady with broken glasses. A piece of duct tape held the cracked edge in place. I studied the duct tape for a long time while she talked at me.

  When she finally left the room, I readjusted the pillows beneath my cast and stared at the calendar on the desk. A whole week had flown by; I wondered how long they planned to keep me in the hospital. Maybe I should have agreed to talk to Dr. Duct Tape. Asked her to speed the process along.

  “Shouldn’t a doctor be able to afford a new pair of glasses?”

  Danny was sitting on the edge of my bed. He smiled and picked up a pen, then scribbled something on the base of my cast.

  “Hey!” I protested. “I can’t see what you wrote.”

  “Get a mirror, genius.”

  “So why are you here?” I asked him.

  “Because you’re in a hospital. Surrounded by psychiatrists.”

  “They think I jumped.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. But you told me to.”

  He frowned and leaned closer to me. “Ellie, you think I want you to hurt yourself?”

  I sighed. “No, I guess not. I don’t know.”

  “Do you believe I’m coming back or not?” he demanded.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good. Then why would you hurt yourself? Don’t you want to give me a chance?”

  “I do!” I reached out to grab his hand, but he pulled away from me and moved back on the bed. “Danny, I need to know what happened to you,” I begged him. “How else am I going to keep believing?”