by Ann M. Noser
She hands me a basket of pink plastic flowers.
We drive over to the cemetery and approach Sam’s gravestone, flower basket in hand.
Sam stares down at his gravestone and sighs. “It was stupid of me to come here. Of course she would’ve already known about med school. I just wanted to make her proud of me, but she wouldn’t have cared if I flipped burgers for a living as long as long as it made me happy. Why couldn’t I just be happy?”
I place the plastic flower basket in the metal rack over the grave. Its pink tackiness depresses me. We stand in silence. I wonder how it feels to see your own final resting place.
Footsteps crunch in the gravel behind us.
“And just what are the two of you doing here?” a deep voice booms.
I swing around to find Officer Walker watching me as his words crush the air in my lungs.
fficer Walker? What are you doing so far away from campus?” I fake a welcoming smile. “Mrs. Metzger asked us to place these flowers on her son’s grave for her.”
“I know.” Charlie Walker doesn’t smile back. “She asked me the same thing earlier today, but I forgot. When I went back after I finished my other business in town, she told me you’d visited her.”
Sam stands speechless. Seeing his mother took everything out of him.
“And I don’t just work on campus. I also work downtown. And, despite my handsome, youthful appearance, I’m much older and wiser than you may think. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on here?”
“You see…” I pause, making things up as I go along. “I’m moving into this apartment, and I found some old mail there. When I realized someone hadn’t received their medical school acceptance packet, I looked into it. When I found out Sam killed himself, I felt bad for his mother and decided to deliver it myself.” I stumble over the name “Sam”, looking at the mute Sam standing next to me. “Not this Sam, the other Sam. The one that died.”
“All right, Emma. Calm down. I get it. You’re just trying to do the right thing.” Officer Walker keeps a close eye on Sam. “That was a very nice gesture on your part to drive all the way up here to do that. You made quite an impression on Mrs. Metzger. She’s a lonely lady.”
“Yes, I noticed that,” I reply.
Sam stifles a choking noise and heads for our car. I turn to follow him, but Officer Charlie’s powerful hand clamps on to my arm. He waits until Sam walks out of earshot before speaking.
“I know there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re not ready to tell me about it just yet, but you will someday.” Charlie relaxes his grip. “What is it, Emma? Just tell me. I can help you.”
I break free and dash after Sam.
Sam takes the keys and drives like a madman back to campus.
“Don’t give Officer Walker a reason to ask for the license you don’t have,” I warn.
“That’s fine with me. I want this to be over with. I shouldn’t be here, anyway. I thought maybe I was sent back to help Abby, but she’s going to be perfectly fine without my help.”
“Actually, we need to talk about Abby. I think she likes you, and I don’t know what to do about it. I mean, we can’t exactly tell her who you really are.”
Sam scowls. “That’s because I’m nobody. I’m just borrowing this body. It’s not real. It’s just a disguise. And Abby’s great, but she doesn’t need me. Nobody does. I can’t go to medical school. I can’t help my mother. I’m just stuck here, and everything I threw away is being thrown back in my face.”
My heart breaks for him. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“Emma, you brought me back from the dead. Do you think you can send me back again?”
“What?” My stomach plummets.
“I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t belong here. It’s time I went on.”
“Well, I don’t know how to send you back. I don’t even really know how I brought you here in the first place.”
By the time we reach campus, the clouds cover what remains of the moon. We park Abby’s car in the distant dorm lot and head down to lower campus. Sam moves so fast I can hardly keep up with him. We march in silence for a long time, across the bridge and down the bike path on the other side.
Eventually, I protest. “Sam, I’m so tired. I can’t go any farther. I need to sit down somewhere.”
“Fine.” He stops so quickly I run into him. Without warning, he crashes through the underbrush, heading toward the river.
I hurry after him. “Where are you going?”
Sam stops to sit on a large rock at the water’s edge. I settle down next to him. He stares into the dark river, tossing small pebbles into the swirling waters. After what seems like forever, he finally speaks. “I can’t help thinking how utterly stupid I was…about everything.”
“Sam, don’t. It doesn’t do any good to beat yourself up like this.”
He laughs bitterly. “Emma, you sure are one to talk. You went so crazy over your big mistake you started raising people from the dead. And even then you couldn’t do it right―you got me, the idiot, instead of Mike, the person you wanted.”
I shake my head, trying not to cry at his words.
Sam sighs. “Please don’t get upset. I’m just so mad at myself that I’m taking it out on you.”
“It’s all right,” I say when it isn’t.
“Did I ever tell you the whole story about that night?” Sam asks. “I mean my last night here, before you brought me back again?”
“No, not really. You told me Amanda turned you down, but you didn’t go into detail.”
Moonlight falls upon Sam’s face. “The library had closed for the night. All the other students rushed out the doors. Like a fool, I waited for Amanda in the hallway. When she passed by, I called out her name.”
Sam’s words come out bitter and hard. “Amanda looked tired. Now that I think about it, she probably just wanted to go home. When I asked if we could talk, she said she was in a hurry. She hardly even looked at me when I told her I loved her.”
He stands up and chucks a few small loose stones into the water as he scorns himself. “Ha! What a fool I was! No wonder she laughed at me.”
Sam mimics Amanda’s high-pitched, demeaning tones. “Sam, just be quiet and go away. I never would have dated you even if you had gotten into medical school, so why on earth would I date you now?” Sam laughs in a way that makes me shiver.
He flings more rocks into the river and spits out more words filled with bile. “Can you believe I threw my whole life away for a girl like that? I don’t know why I ever thought she liked me.”
The dark night hides his face, but his ragged breaths tear my heart in two. I don’t know what to say. The words “I’m sorry” come to mind, but I keep my mouth shut instead of trying to console him with overused clichés.
He lapses into another brooding silence. I grow chilled crouching upon the rocks. An hour passes, or maybe more, until I can’t stand it any longer. My fingers ache from the cold, and I shiver uncontrollably.
“Sam, I know you’re upset and that I haven’t been much help to you tonight, but I’m exhausted and freezing. We should just go home and get some sleep. Maybe things will be better in the morning.”
With a heavy sigh, he nods his consent. We head back over the bridge on our way to the dorms. Halfway across the bridge stands a pajama-clad female student. The wind whips through the thin pink fabric of her camisole top and striped pants. She begins to climb the railing. She almost makes it to the top before Sam dashes ahead of me and grabs her. He yanks her down, and they fall into a heap on the walkway.
“Where am I? It’s so cold!” she whimpers drowsily, covering herself with her fluttering arms.
I look down at her shivering form. “Do you think she was sleepwalking?”
Sam jumps up to scream at her, wild-eyed. “What are you doing out here? Whatever your problems are, this isn’t going to fix it! You can’t just throw everything away. I won’t let you do it!”
“Sam, stop it
!” I yell. “You’re scaring her!”
He continues ranting as I kneel down by the dazed student, trying to console her. When she begins to cry, I pat her back and glare at Sam.
At first I don’t notice that the river sounds hungry. Then I hear the same eerie noise from the night I brought Sam out of the river. The fierce sucking sound echoes far beneath us. I smell every plant and rock rising from the bottom of the river.
I shudder, fearing what will happen next.
“Hold on!” I shove the girl against the railing and grab onto the metal bars as tight as I can.
A powerful wall of water shoots up several stories high behind Sam. The rushing sound silences his wild tirade. He turns to face the terrible icy tower, stretching out his arms in welcome.
“No! Sam, don’t!” I scream, the wind ripping the words from my mouth.
He turns and smiles at me, light shining on his rapt face. “You did it, Emma! Thank you!”
Then he faces the wall of water. It smashes down upon him, dragging him back into the river. I grip the railing and hide my face in the girl’s shoulder. We both gasp as the freezing water pummels us, trying to steal the very air from within our lungs.
When I finally look up again, Sam is gone.
In his place is my grandma’s carved wooden bowl.
elp him! Why won’t you help him?” Pajama Girl screams. The freezing waters of the river must have jolted her awake.
I crawl toward my grandma’s bowl in disbelief. With trembling hands I pick it up, tracing the strange patterns of wooden grooves and burnt markings with my fingers.
What just happened?
“Aren’t you going to help him?” She grabs my arms so violently I almost drop the bowl back into the river.
What am I going to do with this girl?
First, I pretend Sam didn’t exist. “You must have been dreaming,” I tell her.
“I wasn’t dreaming!” She shivers in her dripping, lightweight pajamas, the kind I would only wear in the middle of July.
“Let’s go,” I beg. “It’s the middle of the night, we’re soaking wet, and it’s freezing outside. This is Wisconsin, you know.” Where are her flannel pants and long-sleeved Henley tops? I guess I’d rather be warm than sexy.
She pulls away. “How can you just leave him like that? Don’t you even care about your friend?”
When she says this, I choke up. Sam is gone, this time forever.
Pajama Girl runs to the spot where we last saw him. The towering waters have receded but still churn far beneath us. She points down to the raging river and screams some more as I attempt to yank her down from the ledge.
“Aren’t you going to do anything about your friend?” she cries.
“We need to get back to the dorms before we freeze. Now come with me.”
Despite her almost gaunt figure, this girl has a death grip on the bridge railing and I can’t budge her.
“I’m not going anywhere until we get that guy some help!” she insists.
I consider knocking Pajama Girl unconscious with the wooden bowl and dragging her limp body back to the dorms. Or, I could just walk away. No one will listen to her crazy story back at the dorm. But what if she jumps into the freezing river after Sam, thinking this will somehow help the situation?
I focus on yanking her back across the bridge. I finally peel back her fingers enough to loosen her desperate grasp. She stumbles along after me, flinging her long, sodden hair around as she repeatedly glances behind her.
“Oh, there he is!” She breaks away, knocking me down in her effort to sprint toward someone I have never seen before.
Wait a minute―I have seen him before―on the wall behind Officer Walker’s desk. He is one of the college-aged guys from the pictures. He wears artfully ripped jeans and a black T-shirt embossed with Greek letters. Even though his skin and clothes are wet, his hair stands stiffly on end, spiked with way too much gel.
“Dude. What a rush. That was awesome!” The obvious frat boy jumps about in elation. “Did you see me? I rock!”
Pajama Girl dances with him in giddy relief. “Where’s your jacket? Did you lose it in the river?” she asks.
“What jacket?” replies the stranger.
Upon hearing her words, I remember Sam was wearing a jacket. Of course! Pajama Girl and I see two different people. I see the real one, and she sees the same bodysuit Sam wore during his time here.
I take over, ending their impromptu dance party on the bridge. “Let’s go. It’s cold out here. We need to get back to the dorms before we turn hypothermic.”
Pajama Girl’s arms are riddled with goose bumps, and her teeth chatter. Although more appropriately dressed for the weather, I’m probably just as cold after our icy shower courtesy of the river.
Once we get to her dorm, Frat Boy invites himself to crash in Pajama Girl’s room.
“No way. You’re coming with me.” I grab his arm as Pajama Girl throws me a dirty look.
“Why?” asks Frat Boy, clearly perplexed.
Oh crap, I’m going to have to pretend I’m interested in him. Chrissy would be so much better at this. “But, honey, you already said you would stay with me.” I bat my eyelashes, but it feels more like a spasm.
“I did? Okay then, I guess.” Frat Boy is either drunk or dumb enough to follow me back down the hall and out the door. Once we hit the sidewalk, he glances back longingly at the wanna-be Victoria’s Secret model watching us forlornly from the glass doorway of her dorm entrance.
After the long trip up the hill, we finally reach my room.
“Here, you can wear this.” I set Grandma’s bowl down on my dresser and toss him some of Sam’s old clothes.
“I don’t think these are going to fit,” he replies, taking his pants off right in front of me.
“Why not?” I try my best to avoid seeing his underwear and whatever hides beneath it. I guess that answers the question about whether he prefers boxers or briefs. Oh no, he’s going to take off his shirt, too. I gotta get out of here.
“I’m going to go change in the bathroom.” I grab my supplies and rush out before he completely strips.
Frat Boy falls asleep on my rug before I return from brushing my teeth. His wet clothes stink like old beer. I’ll have to do more laundry tomorrow. I pull down one of the blankets from the mirror and unceremoniously drop it on top of him. I fall asleep hoping he won’t run off before I have a chance to explain things.
I miss Sam already.
I don’t think I’ll get along as well with this new guy.
First thing the next morning, Frat Boy starts acting like something intimate happened between the two of us the night before.
“So…” he starts. “Last night was great.”
“What do you mean?”
He moves closer, his arm brushing mine. “You know… Us.”
I pull away and set him straight immediately. “Listen, buddy―in case you didn’t notice, you spent the entire night on the floor.”
“Then I’ll bet you wanted something to happen, but it didn’t. You took me home, didn’t you?” He smiles in what I guess is supposed to be a seductive fashion.
It really doesn’t do much for me.
“Don’t you remember what happened last night?” I want him to recognize on his own he is dead. This will make things so much easier for me.
No such luck.
He shrugs. “Not really.”
I try a slightly different tactic. “What’s your name?”
“Jake. Jake Cunningham.” He stretches and yawns. “Wait a minute… Are you telling me you took me home last night without even knowing my name?”
“I didn’t really have any other choice.”
He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Jake, I’ve got some bad news.”
“Actually…” He shrugs again. “I guess I don’t know your name, either.”
“It’s Emma Roberts.”
“Well, Emma Roberts, thanks for your hos
pitality, but I think I’d better be going now.” Jake Cunningham makes a beeline for the door.
“Not so fast.” I rush ahead of him, blocking his way.
“I’ll call you sometime, okay?” He reaches for the door again.
“Listen, Jake, maybe someday you can explain to me the reason why guys say that to end conversations with girls they never want to see again, but today, we’ve got more important things to discuss.”
I drag him over to the uncovered mirror and stand beside him. I appear as a single image. He has a double reflection.
“That’s a freaky mirror. What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the mirror. There’s something wrong with you, Jake. It’s October 25, and you came out of the river last night. When exactly did you go in?”
Jake stares at his double image for a long moment, then turns to pace my room, mumbling to himself.
I start to explain. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you only appear as your true self to me. Everybody else sees the other guy in the mirror’s reflection. You have to steer clear of mirrors when you’re in public so you don’t freak people out. They all show this double image of you.”
Jake nods. I wait for him to start hyperventilating, but he doesn’t.
“Some things are the same,” I say. “You eat, drink, and sleep, just like normal people. But you’re not really alive, and you can’t go back to your old life. No one would recognize you there.”
Jake throws himself onto my futon and shakes his head. “Please tell me you’re making all this up.”
“No, I can’t. Sorry.” Even though he already hit on me―how annoying―his downcast eyes encourage me to play nice. “I really am sorry.”
He covers his face with his hands.
“Don’t you remember anything?” I ask.
“Yeah. I guess I do remember a little. I fell into the river about four months ago…” He glances around my room at the school-related paraphernalia. “But down in LaCrosse, not here. I was hanging with my frat brothers when it happened.”