Cricket starts typing into her phone, while I wander away from the dock and look around. Directly behind me is the hiking trail and forest. In front of me is the play area, the dilapidated swings where I fell so many years ago. It seems surreal, that this place changed the course of my life forever. Such a simple, average place. Not where you’d expect life-altering events to take place at all.
Cricket comes walking briskly toward me. “Cox Cemetery…it’s about three miles from here.”
“I think I know the place. Should we go check it out?”
“We’ve gone this far,” she replies.
“Yes, we have.”
As we pull out of the parking lot, I glance in the side view mirror. There, much closer than it appears, is the swing set. It is an ironic moment. That place in those few seconds of a stormy day, will forever be closer to me—a part of who I am—even if it seems millions of miles away. It’s like time froze there, and I can’t touch it or see inside its hard shell. Understanding it completely may be outside my grasp forever. But the impact will be felt, and lived, every second of my life.
Zach
I am so engrossed in planting the mums, replaying in my mind the dream I’d had the night before, that I don’t notice the car pull up. My mom mentions it first. “Those two girls look about your age, do you know them?”
“What?” I look around, and sure enough, there are two girls walking through the cemetery. They are far enough away that I’m not sure they’ve even noticed us. As they get closer, it takes only seconds for me to realize who they are. Tess and Cricket. What in the world are they doing here? I realize I am staring, and I don’t want my mom to ask a lot of questions, so I just look down, shrug, and mutter, “I dunno. I think they go to my school, but I don’t really know them.”
One of the girls seems to be fixated by her cell phone, and I notice that they are staying relatively far away. Maybe they did spot me. “There. I think that’s all of them,” I say, picking up the plastic bag and trowel.
My mom nods. “I think that’s it. Why don’t you go ahead and put those things in the trunk and I will be there in a minute.” She hands me the key.
I make my way back to the car, taking care not to look at Tess and Cricket. I must admit, my curiosity is definitely aroused. I long to go up to Tess and, as casually as possible, ask her how she’s doing. But, I realize it isn’t exactly the most ideal place for that. I mean, a graveyard makes people nervous to begin with. I place the items inside the car and get back in the passenger seat, watching my mom. She stands with one hand rested on the headstone, the other sort of wrapped around herself, her head down. I wonder if she’s praying, or talking to my father, and what she might say to him, if she could. I feel a twinge of guilt, given that I had allegedly made contact with dad recently. If it really was him, he had some explaining to do. On the other hand, if it wasn’t, then who was it? I feel the hairs on my arm stand straight up as I think about the enormity of my secret, the daunting idea that someone out there knows, and understands, and wants to contact me. Sitting there watching my mom, I feel not only guilt, but the hint of tears emerging, and I hope beyond hope that it really was my father, that there’s a really good reason why he hasn’t contacted my mother, and that someday soon all these things will be answered. She turns and heads back to the car.
Tess and Cricket seem to be wandering aimlessly. A few times they glance at my mother, then turn the other way and start wandering some more. It’s almost like they are looking for something, but what? Then I see them turn around and get back in their car.
As my mom and I are leaving, I glance back to see them get out again.
“That was nice,” my mom says.
And I agree.
Back at home, I have a couple hours before football practice, so I clean up my room a little bit and make my bed, then sit down to re-read all those emails. I was rightly skeptical at first, and urged the sender to provide proof of identity, which was given in the form of reference to the missing (or stuck) pages of The Time Machine. With the instruction to steam open the pages from the messenger, I was convinced that it must be my father. I mean, after all, who else would know about the book, much less the fact that two of the pages were stuck together? Admittedly, my response had been enthusiastic; I had believed wholeheartedly that I was communicating with my father. Now, with some time having passed, I am growing more uncertain. The odds are slim to none that my hopes are founded in anything remotely realistic or tangible.
Which can only mean one thing: Someone out there knew my father very well. Knew him well enough to know his research intimately. Knew him well enough to know the contents of his personal library. But who?
In the last email from the messenger, he indicated that he would tell me the entire story when I was ready to hear it. It occurs to me that I hadn’t responded, but instead started thinking more intently about Tess. Maybe it was out of fear that caused me to avoid presenting myself as “ready” to hear it. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe it’s a story I wouldn’t understand or believe yet. The thought makes me think of the Time Traveler, trying to convince his listeners about his fantastic jaunt. The creepiness of the story itself is just enough to ruffle up the hairs on the back of my neck. But thinking of Tess seems to calm me down, so that’s what I do.
I think of how she looked that day in front of the movie theater, her hair glistening in the sun. When I stopped to talk to her, she was nervous. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. It kept falling down and she’d put it back. We talked about the movie she was going to see. I asked for her number and email.
Then, the incident with Tess, Cricket, and Alex happened. I was inside the building when I heard someone coming in. I quickly hid to see what would happen. When nothing did, and they left without incident, I came out to watch them drive away. Tess was looking right at me. I knew it, and that had been my cue to contact her. I told her I’d seen her at the lab. She was intrigued by me. Maybe a little frightened, but intrigued. Interested.
I approached her with caution, yet determined to win her. I expected her to be resistant, distrustful. After all, she’d been through a lot, and her confidence was shaken. She had a hard time believing anything I told her. But finally, I’d convinced her that we not only had a history together, but we had a future—a future that was already mapped out, explored, and settled. We were meant to be. And then, everything changed.
To her credit, I know why she did it. Tess has a big heart, and she wanted her friend back, wanted her to live, even if it meant our relationship might suffer the consequences. Maybe she didn’t realize just how much it would impact us to bring Dani back. How could she have known the greater implications? When she traveled back to the scene of her accident and diverted the lightning away from her friend, she saved her. This one selfless act, fueled by love, changed the course of time from that moment on. Tess was thirteen. Dani was thirteen. I was fourteen. It was 2008. And in 2008, Tess suffered injuries that landed her in a coma. Dani and I were saved. Eventually, I would fall in love with Dani; she would be mine. I can’t help but think we bonded over that whole terrible incident. Bonded through tragedy. For four years, we became closer and closer. Then Tess woke up. She remembered, but I, of course, did not. That came later, when I implanted the chip and the whole story was revealed to me…made part of me. The story that Tess let go, to be erased from the chip, on her second time travel, the one she chose because she couldn’t live without me…knowing her love for me and knowing I was completely oblivious to it. And completely in love with Dani. Oh, the irony of it all now that the tables are turned.
A text interrupts my thoughts. It’s Dani.
-can I come watch you at practice today? I miss you
-sure
-we’re going out later, right?
-yep
-cool… practice at 2:00, right?
-yep, see u there
-<3
-<3
How is it possible for me to love both Dani and Tess?
Is it possible, or am I just fooling myself? Arguably, the love I have for Tess is located on a computer chip inside my body…but does that make it any less real? It does not, because I know it happened. I experienced it. The past was changed forever when Tess saved Dani’s life, and I would never, ever trade Dani’s life for anything. This is what you call being conflicted…to the utmost degree. I am a walking conflict.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to me that I haven’t considered before. I feel a hot flash of recognition, at the same time as something like mortal fear. If Tess was able to erase her chip, then presumably, my chip is erasable as well. The thought nearly throws me into a panic. Do I dare? Am I now in the same position as Tess was, when she made that decision—that living life in love with someone you can never have isn’t worth the pain? It isn’t, to be sure. However, I push the thought to the back of my mind. Those memories of Tess are far too precious to simply wipe out. Furthermore, time is never definitive. I know that now. And I have the power to change things. And though this thought scares me almost as much as erasing memories, it’s a power I have that will never go away. And its rewards and benefits will come, always, at a price.
Tess
A cemetery on a beautiful Saturday morning is not my idea of fun. Cricket must sense that I am nervous, because she brings up a totally new subject. “So, are you going to Homecoming?” She asks it with a hint of disgust, as if she herself is undecided yet hopeful that I will say no so she doesn’t have to deal with it.
“I hadn’t really planned on it, but…”
“Oh my gosh, who?”
“Who what?”
“Who asked you?”
“Well, Alex sort of mentioned it. And I don’t have a date, so…”
Cricket sighs. “Figures. Ok, what are you wearing?”
“I dunno,” I admit.
“Wait, you do know this is next weekend, right?”
I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, but I figured I’d just throw something together.”
“You have random formalwear hanging around in your closet, do you?”
“No,” I chuckle. “There’s still time to shop if I need to.”
“Well, it is just Alex…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, he’s like the friend guy. Not like he’s going to be critiquing your dress or anything.”
I felt a slight twinge of something like disappointment, but quickly sucked it up. “Why would I want him to?” Truthfully, it would be nice for any guy to say that I look nice. It would be cool to just feel normal and pretty for one night, without everyone looking at me like I have the plague or something.
“He likes you,” Cricket announces.
“I know, but he really is just a friend.”
“He’s cute, though. Don’t you think?”
“I guess. I don’t really think of him that way, so it hasn’t crossed my mind.”
“Oh, come on! A guy asks you to Homecoming and the thought—even for a split second—didn’t cross your mind to wonder if you two would look good together? If he would show up all handsome and hand you a bunch of flowers?”
“Please. I’m not into clichés.”
“Me either. Trust me.”
“So do you have a date?”
“What do you think?”
“Hey, why don’t you go with Alex and me? I’m sure he won’t mind, and since we’re just going as friends anyway…”
“I’m sure he would be thrilled to have me tag along,” Cricket mutters.
“Seriously. I’ll ask him. It will be fun.”
Cricket laughs nervously. “Ok, so when are we going shopping? I guess I’ll go too, and I know I don’t have any princess dresses hanging around in my closet.”
I laugh. “You’re a riot. How about Tuesday?”
“How about this afternoon, when we get done? I’m not into waiting until the last minute, especially when it comes to dressing up for social events.”
“Ok, you win. Today it is. Now where is this mysterious cemetery?”
When we pull into the lot, another car is sitting there. “Do you think it’s ok?” I ask.
“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”
I point to the car, feeling anxious.
“It’s a public place. Come on.” So we get out of the car and Cricket loads the app on her phone.
Technically, she’s right. But I still can’t shake the thought that something isn’t right. This adventure has been fun, even though I was convinced it wouldn’t be, and yet, we are in the middle of a graveyard. “Don’t you think this is all a little weird?” I ask. “I mean, who puts a geocache in a graveyard anyway?”
Cricket examines her phone and heads to the right. “I dunno. A poet? Or a lunatic.”
“Great. Seriously, though. What if it is some psycho? Luring us here. I’ve heard about things like this. He could be watching us right now.”
“Oooh. Spooky,” Cricket chimes in. “Come this way.”
“Have you noticed those people over there?” I whisper.
“O.M.G.” She replies, glancing over. “You are not going to believe this one.”
“What?” My heart is racing.
“Holy cow. It’s Zach Webb.”
“No way! Let’s get out of here.” I am completely mortified. If he sees us, he’s going to think we are stalking him or something. I turn and start walking back to the car.
Cricket follows. “Where are you going?”
“To the car. We can’t just stay here. I mean, do you really want him to see us?”
“True. Ok, let’s get in the car and wait for a few minutes. Maybe they will leave.”
Cricket turns on the radio low and we both scrunch down in our seats. “Is that his mom?”
“How the heck would I know? Probably.”
“What are they doing? It seriously looks like they are planting something.”
“Well, people do that, you know. At graveyards,” I say sarcastically.
“I know, but don’t you think it’s strange that they are at this graveyard? At the same time we are here? What are the odds?”
I have to admit, it’s a little weird, but probably just a coincidence. “It looks like they’re leaving,” I note.
“Good, we can continue our adventure.”
“I’m a little freaked out now, thanks.”
“It will be fine. Trust me. Ok they’re gone. Let’s get to it.”
“Ok,” I shrug. “You better get an A on this assignment.”
After wandering around for about five minutes, you won’t believe where we found ourselves. Standing right in front of the headstone where Zach had just been. Weird officially gotten weirder. My hands are sweating, and my faith in coincidence is dwindling fast.
“Woah,” Cricket says, shaking her head. “This is crazy.”
“You can say that again,” I mutter. “I really don’t think we should be here.” I look around, half expecting to see Zach and his mom barreling through the graveyard, shaking their fists.
“We’ve come this far, right?” She doesn’t sound all that convinced.
“I guess.” I am also not convinced, but I try not to let it show.
She starts searching around the headstone while I watch the parking lot. Why do I feel like we are trespassing again?
“Ok, what did that clue say again?”
“Hard stone will not contain me, but its timeless message is of grave concern.”
“It sounds like the message isn’t in the stone.”
“Or he could be referring to the fact that a headstone doesn’t contain him… meaning, it’s just a piece of stone with a name on it.”
“Good thinking! But that still doesn’t tell us where the message is.”
We both simultaneously look at the ground, then each other. “Oh, no freakin' way, Cricket.”
“Wait—it says its timeless message. The it refers to the stone. So the message is on the stone.”
“And it’s apparently pretty stink
ing important. Grave, in fact.”
“Edwin G. Webb. Born September 17, 1952. Died April 13, 2010. Devoted father, brilliant scientist, and pioneer.”
“Scientist? Pioneer? Who was this guy?”
“Well, for one, he was apparently Zach’s dad. And he was brilliant.”
“This is the message we came all the way out here for? There has to be more than this.”
“Maybe there’s more...” Cricket starts inspecting the headstone further, getting down on her hands and knees. “Wait—what’s this?” She starts digging away the dirt at the bottom of the stone. “There’s something else on here.”
“Of course there is,” I say dryly.
“O.M.G. You’re not even going to believe this.”
“Trust me; I’m past the unbelief stage.”
“There’s a compartment down here… and—” She works her fingers into the dirt and pulls out—you guessed it—yet another cylinder. And just like that, this is day goes from weird to completely insane. How do I get myself into these things?
Her fingers are shaking as she pulls out the paper and begins to read: “You didn’t think you’d find the third clue, did you? Well, I must congratulate you again, for your perseverance. To continue: There is a chip in the stone. What is broken will soon be restored.”
“Huh? A chip in the stone? What’s that supposed to mean? That doesn’t tell us where the next clue is. That tells us basically nothing.”
As if on cue, Cricket starts inspecting the headstone for chips. “This thing is covered in chips. What the heck?”
“It’s a prank. Go figure.”
“Crap. Well, it will still make a good paper, right?”
In the car on the way to the formal wear boutique, I make note of the dirt on the knees of Cricket’s pants, and the mud on my shoes from the lake. “You think they’ll let us in there like this?”
Cricket just laughs. “Sure, we’re paying customers.”
“Well, I’m not paying. Until I get mom’s plastic.”
“Right.”
I sit back in the seat and take a deep breath, relieved to have gotten that whole ordeal over with. I close my eyes and listen to the music, and I am actually starting to look forward to going to the dance. It will be fun to go out with Cricket and Alex. Plus, I won’t have to worry about feeling like it’s a date with a third person in tow.
Surfacing (Spark Saga) Page 6