The Field

by Tracy Richardson

  “Something even more out there than this?” He raises his eyebrows, but he’s listening, so I go on.

  “Yeah, I know, but hang with me on this.” I take a deep breath and plunge in. “I’d been having dreams about it, about the explosion. Since the beginning of the school year.”

  “You knew it was going to happen?” he asks, adjusting his injured arm against the bed railing.

  “No. I didn’t know what the dreams were about. They were just explosions and fire and screaming, but there weren’t any people in the dreams or a car or anything. They really freaked me out. When you crashed and the gas was leaking and we were afraid it was going to explode, I knew the dreams were about the crash and we had to get you out before the car exploded.”

  “That’s crazy, man. I mean, that you dreamed about it and it happened. Not that it’s actually crazy. And that you were there and could use that energy field.” He forgets his cuts and bruises and shakes his head and then groans and puts his right hand on the side of his head. “See, just thinking about it is making my head hurt.”

  “I had another dream last night.”

  “I don’t think I’d survive another one of your dreams. If it’s all the same to you, could you dream about somebody else?”

  “It wasn’t about you. Well, you were in it, but it was about your dad.”

  “My dad? He was here last night, but I was too out of it. I didn’t see him.” He still has the edge to his voice that’s been there when he talks about his dad, but it’s colored with something else—longing or maybe sadness. Definitely less anger.

  “We were at the coal gasification plant. There was a fire and your dad was in some sort of danger.” I don’t tell him that he was running after his dad, calling for him with fear and anguish in his voice. I’m not sure how he would take that.

  “What kind of danger?”

  “The problem is, I don’t really know. What I do know is the other dreams came true, and I’m afraid this one could too. You’ve got to tell your dad. Tell him there’s something wrong at the plant. Maybe he can figure out what it is and stop it or fix it.”

  “So I’m supposed to tell him that you had a dream about a fire at the plant and that he’s in some sort of undefined danger, so he needs to look into what it could be? You realize that I haven’t even talked to my dad for almost three months?” He’s not exactly being sarcastic, but he’s not buying it, either.

  “That’s why he’ll listen to you. You said he’s been calling and texting you and he wants to talk to you. I think if you asked him, he’d do it. Even though he’s been a dick, he still loves you.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Will looks like I just punched him. His shoulders hunch over and his eyes shut tight. I think I’ve gone too far, said the wrong thing. Then he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, still with his eyes closed, and says very quietly, so I can barely hear him, “That’s the thing isn’t it? Does he?” The pain in his voice is palpable, worse than his physical pain.

  I reach over the bed rail and put my hand on his shoulder. “Yes. That’s one thing I do know. He totally loves you. He always has, and I know that hasn’t changed.”

  I let go of his shoulder and we just sit there for a while. After a few minutes, Will’s breathing becomes more regular and then his head rolls to the side. He’s fallen asleep. As I’m prying myself out of the plastic chair, the door opens and Mr. Asplunth comes in. He stops when he sees me and glances over at the bed and sees that Will’s sleeping.

  “Eric.” He comes the rest of the way into the room and around the foot of the bed to where I’m standing. He holds out his hand to me and says, “Thank you. Thank you for saving my son,” but his voice cracks and instead of just shaking my hand he pulls me into a rough embrace.

  When I leave, Mr. Asplunth is sitting in the orange chair I just vacated, watching Will and waiting for him to wake up. I’m not going to tell him about the dream. It just seems like something Will should tell him. I hope he’ll listen.

  27

  “SO YOU FELT something from the star-gazing rock?” Marcie asks. “It’s on the world energy grid, on the ley-lines.”

  “I’m just glad Will is okay,” Mom says. “Why didn’t you tell us he was drinking to cope with his parents’ break up?”

  “I guess I should have told you he was doing all this crazy shit.”

  “Watch your language please,” my dad says sternly.

  “Sorry,” I say. “And, yeah, I definitely felt something from the star-gazing rock. It’s hard to describe, but it made me feel, somehow, more. More connected, more aware and powerful. I felt like all the goodness out there was funneling through me, helping me move the car and pull open the door. I know it sounds weird, but that’s what it was like.”

  It’s after dinner and we’re all still sitting at the table eating ice cream, and the conversation turns to the crash last night. Renee says, “I felt it too. It seemed like the air was almost crackling with energy. Everything was enhanced, magnified.” I nod in agreement.

  “God wanted you to help Will,” Drew says matter-of-factly. “That’s why the crash was there by the lagoons and the stargazing rock. So you could use the energy and get God’s help.” Ralph is sitting next to Drew, hoping that he’ll slip him some food. Drew has his hand on Ralph’s head. Both of them have these goofy smiles on their faces, and yes, Ralph does smile. We all just look at Drew for a long moment, each of us trying to take in what he’s just said.

  Eventually, my dad says, “Drew, I think you’re exactly right.”

  Drew slips Ralph a piece of chicken left over from dinner and says, “I know.” And goes back to eating his chocolate ice cream.

  THAT NIGHT, AS I’m getting ready for bed, I get a text from Will: TOLD MY DAD ABOUT UR DREAM AND HE PROMISED TO CHECK IT OUT. WE TALKED FOR A LONG TIME. IT WAS GOOD. I wonder about good things happening as a result of really terrible things, and I fall asleep feeling happy that Will and I are talking again and that Will and his dad are talking again, too.

  MY CRAPPY LOCKER is stuck, as usual. I spin the dial in frustration and then slowly and precisely dial the combination and lift the lock. Thankfully, it slips open and I shove my backpack inside and grab my AP Enviro notebook. Today is one of those fantastic fall days when the sun is shining and the temperature is predicted to get up around 70 degrees. Everyone’s wearing shorts and t-shirts, although that’s not too much of a change for some of the kids. I’ve seen guys wearing shorts and flip flops in a snow storm. As usual, the hallways are crowded with students on their way to first period. The sound of their voices bounces off the metal lockers and concrete walls and is amplified into a raucous din. Everyone’s talking about the accident and Will and on my way in people keep asking me if he’s alright and wanting me to tell them what happened. The stories I’m hearing are even wilder than the truth. One girl heard that the car hit the tree and rolled three times and that I lifted the car off the ground and flipped it back over. I guess when you think about it, that isn’t much more incredible than what we actually did.

  Paul comes up next to me as I’m closing my locker. “Hey,” he says, bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other, “Has anyone said anything to you about us winning State? I mean, the crash was a big deal and everything, but nobody’s talking about our win! It sucks.” He’s always full of pent-up energy, and he’s literally bouncing around as he talks.

  “Don’t worry, Coach sent out an email. They’re going to say something about it in the morning announcements, and tomorrow’s gonna be a spirit day. We’re supposed to wear our jerseys.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.” He runs his hand through his hair, which seems to settle his jitteriness. “Gotta get to class. See you at lunch.”

  “Later.” I join the flow of students and start making my way across the building. Cole catches up with me just as I get to the doorway of AP Enviro. Today he is wearing a Sesame Street t-shirt with Big Bird and Snuffleupagus on it.


  “Are you Big Bird or Snuffleupagus?” I ask.

  “Neither,” he replies. “I’m Oscar, of course.”

  “Of course you are,” I say and smile to myself. I’ve always thought Oscar was really a nice guy deep down. Just like Cole. I sit in my usual spot behind Renee, and he heads to the back of the room.

  “Hey, Babe,” I whisper into her ear as I slide into my seat. She turns her head and smiles at me and says, “Hey yourself.” My heart zings. All the uneasiness that had been between us is gone. We did a lot of talking over the weekend and worked through stuff and things are really good between us now. We did a lot of making out, too, which didn’t hurt.

  The second bell rings, and Mr. Ogle stands in the front of the classroom.

  “Okay, settle down everyone. Let’s get started.” He picks up some papers from his desk. “First, I have an announcement to make. Dr. Auberge has selected the student who will fill the internship position in his lab for next semester.” Half the class turns to look at me. I try to keep my face blank. “He couldn’t be here today to tell you himself, as he is giving a presentation at the International Conference on Nuclear Physics in Trieste, Italy this week. He asked me to tell you that it was a difficult decision to make. All the applications he received showed great talent and interest, but he could only offer one internship. I’m pleased to say that Randy Chin has been selected for the position. Congratulations, Randy.”

  He begins clapping and the students start clapping even as they glance back and forth between me and Randy, looking to see my reaction. I clap for him too and keep my expression happy. Randy is looking really excited, and I’m glad for him. I already knew that I wouldn’t be getting the internship. Dr. Auberge told me yesterday when I picked up Renee. He said that he didn’t want it to appear as favoritism since I was dating Renee and I was already working with him. He wanted to give someone else an opportunity, too. Instead of working in my favor, being Renee’s boyfriend actually worked against me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed, but it is true that I’ll still be working with him and Stephen on experiments with The Field, so I can hardly complain.

  Will isn’t in school today, but he’s home from the hospital, so I told him I’d pick up his assignments. Mr. Ogle is cool and asks me to tell Will that he’s glad he’s okay, but some of his other teachers won’t give the assignments to me because Will hasn’t been absent for two days yet. I guess those are the rules and it’s more work for them, but you’d think they’d be glad that a student wanted to do the work.

  When school’s over, I go to the art classrooms to look for Renee so we can go to Will’s together.

  The smell hits me as soon as I push through the double doors into the art hallway. It’s a mixture of wet clay, paint and turpentine mingled with raw wood and sawdust. Renee is in the same room where I found her the last time, and she calls me over to see the painting she’s working on.

  “See? I just finished it today. My mother’s garden in France.” She steps aside so I can have a look.

  It’s a riot of color and form and at first I can’t make sense of it, but then it composes itself into clumps of fruit and vegetables and flowers all jumbled together. I can see why the style is called Impressionism, because I get the impression of the overall picture rather than distinct individual subjects.

  “I really like it. Your mother will love it.” I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. It feels so good to be in sync with her again. She gives my waist a little squeeze and kisses me lightly on the cheek.

  “Just give me a minute to clean up, and I’ll be ready.” I wander around the room looking at the other paintings while she washes her brushes and puts her paints away. None of the other paintings seem as good as Renee’s, but I don’t have a clue about what’s considered good and I’m probably biased. I jingle the car keys in my pocket.

  We drive with the windows down, enjoying the Indian summer weather. Most of the leaves have already fallen, but there are still a few maples covered in brilliant red or gold leaves, and kids are out everywhere, playing ball, jumping in the leaves and riding bikes. When we get to Will’s house, his mom answers the door and takes us back to the family room. She looks a little tired, but not haggard like she did at first after Will’s dad left. Even so, Will’s accident couldn’t have helped with her stress level.

  Will is reclining on the sofa with the remote in one hand, surrounded by glasses and plates of half-eaten food.

  “Hey, how’re you doing?” Renee and I sit down on the love seat opposite the sofa.

  “Not bad, considering. The pain is manageable—I’m down to one pill every six hours and I think I might be able to switch to ibuprofen tomorrow or the next day. The doctor said I can go back to school when I’m off the pain meds.”

  “You don’t look as bad as you did Saturday. Your bruises are yellow and green, not black and blue. Your face isn’t all puffy, but you still look like hell. No more pretty boy for a while,” I say. “Why do you want to get back to school so bad, anyway? I would’ve thought you’d want to take it easy.”

  “I don’t know how much time you’ve spent at home on a weekday, but daytime TV pretty much sucks. It’s all soap operas, cooking shows and home improvement. It’s not like we have the soccer channel, either. I figure by the end of the week I’ll be bored out of my mind.”

  “How will you get around school?” Renee asks. “Can you use crutches with your arm?”

  “That’s the other thing. I’m going to have to use a wheel chair for a while, so I’ll need some help.”

  “I’m sure people will be lining up to push your wheelchair,” Renee says, smiling. “You’re the talk of the school.” Will has the grace to look sheepish.

  “Yeah, but not in a good way,” he says. “Anyway, did you bring me my homework?” He looks at me and I hand him the folder of papers I brought. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I was really slacking off before.” In a serious tone he says, “This whole thing really scared the shit out of me, you know? Waking up in the hospital, covered in bandages and realizing that I almost died—man talk about a reality check. I don’t want to be that guy. The guy that royally screws up and loses everything.” Renee nods. He almost was that guy.

  “I’ve got some other news,” I say. “Ogle announced in class today who was selected for the internship. Neither of us got it. Dr. Auberge picked Randy Chin.”

  “You’re kidding? I never really thought I would get it, but I was pretty sure you would. That sucks. Do you know why?”

  “Yeah, it’s actually okay.” I glance at Renee and she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I guess being the boyfriend didn’t work in my favor after all.” I shrug.

  “Oh, yeah, like it sucks to be you,” Will says.

  “I’ll take this over the internship anytime.” I look at Renee.

  Will’s phone rings and he checks the caller ID. “It’s my dad.” He answers the call. “Hey,” he says.

  “So you did a check? … Really? It could have exploded…?” He takes a sharp intake of breath and turns away from me and Renee. “Yeah, I’m really glad, Dad. Glad you’re okay.” His voice is muffled now. “I’ll tell him.” And then even more quietly. “I love you too.” He puts down the phone, and I see his shoulders rise and fall a few moments before he turns to us.

  “You won’t believe what happened.” He leans back against the couch. “My dad decided to have a plant-wide safety check because of what I told him about your dream. They were right in the middle of the check when they noticed some high readings from the furnace. The thing is, the meter wasn’t reading properly, or they would already have found it. If they hadn’t been doing the safety check, it would have gotten to critical levels. They shut the operation down to check it out. You know what they found? Almost complete blockage of the exhaust stack. If they hadn’t found it when they did, the heat and pressure would have built up and caused an explosion. A lot of people could have been injured or killed. Maybe even my dad.”
Will’s hands are tightly gripping the legs of his Monroe Varsity soccer warm-ups. “He said to tell you thanks for the heads-up. However you knew about it.”

  I have mixed feelings hearing this. On the one hand, I’m glad I was able to prevent something because of my dream, but I also feel the weight of responsibility. How am I supposed to tell what’s important and what isn’t? I didn’t know what the first dreams were about. If I had, could I have prevented Will’s accident somehow? What if I miss something and someone gets hurt?

  Will is still talking. “What’s really incredible is that I don’t think my dad believed me when I told him about your dream. I think the only reason he even did the safety check was because he was so glad we were talking again and he wanted to keep it going.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “If I hadn’t had the accident and gotten a total reality check … I wouldn’t have been able to tell him about your dream. I wouldn’t even have been talking to him.”

  “It got the two of you talking again,” Renee says. “Your dad did the safety check even though he didn’t realize there was anything wrong.”

  “Yeah.” Will nods. “It’s all related somehow—but it’s beyond me to figure out.”

  “Things work out exactly the way they’re supposed to,” Renee continues. “I don’t think we have to know the how or the why. We just have to know it’s all somehow good in the end.” It occurs to me that Renee is almost answering my unasked question. I feel the burden of responsibility lift as I realize she’s right. I don’t have to understand, I just have to be open to the experience and see where it takes me. That’s a relief. I put my arm around her shoulder, pull her close and kiss her in the soft spot right below her ear. The smell of her perfume fills the air around her.

  “What’s that for?” she asks, laughing.

  “For being you.”

  We don’t stay too much longer because Will is getting tired. I doubt he’ll be able to go back to school sooner than next week, boring TV or not. I promise to keep bringing his assignments over. Renee has to get home to work with some other kids on a group project, so I drive to her house.