Enter If You Dare

by Alyson Larrabee

  I squeeze back my tears and swallow them. I love dogs.

  “Winter passed and spring arrived. One day Holly looked out her bedroom window and saw a puppy tied with the same rope, lying beside that wreck of a doghouse, hopelessly lovable, but with no one to love him.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes. She knew she had to take action. Her mother had just started a new job in Boston and they had decided to move to Eastfield because it was closer to the city. They had already found a condo, bought it and started packing.”

  “But what about the puppy?”

  “A couple of days after the move, Holly and her sister waited until after dark and dressed themselves all in black, like ninjas. Armed with nothing more than a sharp pair of sewing scissors, the girls drove back to their old neighborhood. They snuck into the mean neighbor’s yard, cut the dog’s rope and tiptoed back to their car. The poor puppy never even whimpered or barked. He seemed to understand that his very life depended on his silence. They brought him home to their new ‘no pets allowed’ condo, where, of course, the neighbors discovered his presence after only one day.”

  “So Holly had to get rid of him.”

  “Yes. Because Holly, her sister and her mother were so kind and sweet and the puppy was so adorable, the condo association gave them two weeks to find a new home for him.”

  “And they found you.”

  Nathaniel nods his head. “Holly’s sister knew my friend Ted and he thought of me because I worked at the animal shelter. I’d no sooner finished listening to Holly tell her story when I offered to take the puppy right away. She asked how she could possibly thank me enough. I had pretty specific ideas about how she could thank me, but I decided to be patient and not rush things. She was worth waiting for. I didn’t want to come on too strong.”

  “Again with the romance, Nathaniel. What about the dog?”

  He laughs. “I turned to the dog and asked him what his name was. The girls found this pretty amusing, which was my intention. However, to my surprise, the dog answered.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Some dogs bark and they make a ‘woof’ or a ‘ruff’ sound, but he distinctly said ‘Jeff.’ We all heard him. His previous owner had never called him anything but ‘Stupid.’ He deserved to be consulted about his new name. On that special day, four years ago, my dog named himself. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  “What happened between you and Holly?” Despite my aversion to romance, I’m a little curious.

  “She came over to visit Jeff a lot. We brought him on long walks together. He’d jump into the back seat and we’d drive over to the state forest, or the Eastfield Country Club, at dusk, when most of the golfers had finished up. Jeff knew I had a pocket full of dog biscuits, so even though he was still a puppy, I could let him off the leash and he’d come back. He ran like joy fueled every muscle in his awkward, gangly puppy body. Long-legged, big-pawed and beautiful. Overflowing with clumsy enthusiasm. He chased after birds, bunnies, chipmunks, squirrels. You name it. He’d try to tree it. Jeff always returned when I whistled, filled with gratitude for the dog cookie and our friendship.”

  “Good boy.” I pat Jeff’s head and he licks my cheek with his enormous, rough tongue.

  “I’ll always remember this one day.” Nathaniel smiles. “Holly and I took Jeff to the state forest, so he could run free and terrorize the squirrels. We unclipped his leash and walked for a while, holding hands. Then we climbed a grassy hill and stared down at the meadow below. It was kind of hot out. The sun was setting. Jeff was running around. Chasing butterflies. Trampling wild flowers. A breeze blew across the nearby pond and ruffled Holly’s hair. She smoothed it back with one hand. And smiled. I kissed her for the first time. She tasted like she belonged to me, like I’d been waiting for that kiss my whole life.”

  “Yeah, it was a great kiss. I get it. What happened next?” I can’t resist giving Nathaniel a hard time. He punches my arm and continues with his love story. I keep hoping that it has a happy ending. Like they’re married now and Holly’s waiting at home for him tonight.

  “We saw each other every weekend and sometimes during the week, too. One Saturday night, I was home alone, waiting to hear from Holly. A friend of hers had just gotten engaged and they were having a girls’ night out, celebrating. Holly told me she’d call me when she got home. When she was with her girlfriends something ridiculous always happened. I knew she’d have some funny stories.”

  “How long had you been going out?”

  “About six months, but I already wished that we were announcing our engagement. I was trying to be patient, though. We were so happy just hanging out. We had saved Jeff’s life together. Our bond was intense, but at the same time we felt comfortable with each other. Anyway, she went out with her girlfriends that night.”

  Nathaniel hesitates.

  I prompt him. “And?”

  He breathes in deep and exhales fast, puffing out his lips in a frown. “She called me really late, from a bar near River Wind. Everyone else was still drinking. She’d gone beyond her limit and felt sick. So she told her friends she was leaving. She knew I’d come and get her, no matter how late it was. On the phone she was slurring her words and I got worried. I jumped in the car, with Jeff, of course, in the back seat. We headed out to rescue our girl.”

  Nathaniel’s face is so sad that it’s hard to look at him while he’s speaking, but I do. He turns away and bows his head. I stare at his drooping profile, backlit by the flames.

  “When I got to the bar, I found her and she was wasted, almost unconscious. I carried her out to the car, sat her down on the passenger’s side and buckled her in. Jeff whimpered at us from the backseat. Holly mumbled something about how sorry she was. I told her, ‘Don’t worry. It’s okay. There’s no one else in the world I’d rather rescue.’”

  He pauses and clears his throat.

  “Do you want some water, Nathaniel?” I stand and rest my hand on his arm.

  “Okay.”

  I run out to the kitchen and fill a glass with ice and then water from the tap. When I hand it to him he gulps down half of it before he slows to sipping for a few seconds. Finally he sets the glass down on the floor next to his wheelchair and I resume my cozy position beside Jeff. Nathaniel continues.

  “On the way back to her house, shortly before one o’clock in the morning, Holly said she felt sick and opened the car door, while the car was moving. I pulled over so she could lean out of the car and throw up. Then she closed the door and told me she was all right. I was frantic, though. I wanted to get her home, where she would be safe and I could take care of her.”

  Nathaniel reaches down, picks up the glass of water and finishes it.

  “I drove too fast, screeched to a halt at a red light and waited impatiently. I watched the other light turn yellow, signaling that my light would soon change to green. I lifted my foot off the brake and let it hover over the gas pedal. The second the light flashed green, I shot out.”

  I close my eyes, as if I’m there and can’t bear to watch.

  “His car was traveling seventy miles an hour. The impact spun us around. Then we slammed into another car that had just entered the intersection.”

  “Nathaniel!” I rest my hand on his.

  “I don’t remember anything beyond stomping on the gas when the light changed. Everything else is black.” He tilts his head back and closes his eyes as if to revisit that world of total darkness.

  “The other driver was trying to beat the red light. He sped up when the light turned yellow. Caved in the passenger side of my car. Spun us into another car. I woke up in the hospital. Two days later. Spinal injury. Couldn’t feel my legs.”

  I can’t think of anything to say so I squeeze his hand. He doesn’t squeeze back.

  “When I opened my eyes for the first time in two days, my mother was sitting beside my hospital bed, crying. A doctor came in and explained that I might never walk again.”

  He pauses th
en continues. “Jeff was completely okay. A miracle.”

  I’m afraid to ask about Holly, but I do it anyway. “What happened to her, Nathaniel?”

  “The first impact killed her. Instantly.”

  I can’t find any words. Nathaniel turns his face away and stares into the fire.

  “My soul fled from my body. For a long time my feelings were as paralyzed as my legs. I barely ate or slept.”

  Eventually, Nathaniel turns back toward me and looks at my hand, still resting on his. His beautiful archangel’s face remains expressionless but a tear slides down one perfect cheek.

  “The driver who hit my car died the next day. The driver of the third car was fine. He and Jeff survived intact.”

  “Nathaniel.” I stand up and put my arms around him. Jeff stands, too, and lays his giant head in Nathaniel’s lap. Nathaniel hugs me back and pats Jeff’s furry head as if he’s comforting us.

  “I’ll always regret every decision I made and every action I took that night. But I’m past obsessing about it. I barely ever think about it anymore. When I do stop to remember, the worst part is I still miss her.”

  I don’t know what to say to Nathaniel. I’m not sure that I can listen to much more. She died so young. Nathaniel loved her so much.

  “In a way, Annabelle, the end of this story was really the beginning of my life. The dawn of my purpose here on Earth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Holly’s ghost was the first ghost I ever saw. And I saw her everywhere. Tapping on my shoulder from behind. Pulling the bed covers down or up. Every morning when I opened my eyes, she’d be looking down at me with a sorrowful expression on her beautiful face. Lit by a light from within. At first I wanted to join her. I wanted it more than I had ever wanted anything before. But she wouldn’t let me.”

  I sit back down on the rug and Jeff settles in beside me. Nathaniel’s dog has heard all this before. He lived it.

  Nathaniel continues. “One night, I tried to pull out all of my IVs and tubes and Holly pushed the call button. The nurse came running in.”

  What can you say to someone who’s just told you he wanted to die? Nothing. So I sit there, mute.

  “I’d lost my place on earth. The book mark had been yanked out of the story of my life and I didn’t want to start over. I didn’t want to look through the pages, chapters and experiences to find out where I’d left off. I wanted to join Holly. But she wouldn’t let me.”

  He picks up his empty glass and tries to take a sip of the water that isn’t there. Gently, I take it from his hand and refill it in the kitchen. When I come back, Nathaniel accepts the full glass and sets it down beside his wheelchair without drinking any. I guess he forgot that he was thirsty.

  “On my first night home from the hospital, Holly kept tapping on my bedroom window. I couldn’t get up to open it. I screamed for my mother. She came running in and opened the window, letting in the cool night air and my dead girlfriend. Then Mom went back to bed, oblivious.”

  The fire’s waning and it’s getting cold, so I get up and throw two more logs on.

  “That was the night I grabbed the painkillers on my nightstand, intending to swallow the whole bottle. Holly freaked out. She rocked my dresser until a lamp fell over. Jeff went crazy howling and barking. My mother woke up and rushed in again.”

  He pauses and I have no choice but to wait for him to continue.

  “An unseen hand bumped my arm and I dropped the open bottle of pills. The tablets scattered all over the bed. My mother picked them up and put them back into the bottle. Then she shook one pill into her hand and looked around the room. As she righted the fallen lamp, the curtains moved, blown inward by another rogue wind. The light bulb in my bedside lamp dimmed then brightened. My mother gave me one pill and a sip of water. Then she carried the rest of the pills away with her. Holly had gotten her message across.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “I know. Holly saved me. All I wanted to do was die and she kept saving me. Still, Jeff didn’t like her. He adored her when she was alive. But after she died, he knew that her spirit had no rightful place on this earth; she belonged somewhere else. He tried to send her away with his relentless barking, but she wouldn’t go. Even though he howled like a hound from hell, Holly’s spirit kept coming back.”

  I scratch the dog’s head and his voice rumbles, deep in his throat, like a lion’s purr.

  “Then one day, Holly’s sister came to take Jeff for a walk. She thought it might bring her some peace; a feeling of connection. Because together, she and Holly had saved Jeff’s life.”

  Nathaniel seems to suddenly remember the glass of water and he takes a few sips.

  “We didn’t have an electric wheelchair yet; I just had an ordinary one. With the visiting nurse’s help, my mother got me into it and they wheeled me outside. I hadn’t been outside in weeks. It was a beautiful sunny day and my mother thought I should get some fresh air. Why do mothers always want you to get fresh air?”

  “Because it’s good for you. Aside from the obvious uplifting emotional benefits, sunlight increases your vitamin D supply, which helps with depression.”

  “God, Annabelle, in addition to being beautiful, you’re wise beyond your years. Remind me to tell Wyatt he’s a very lucky guy.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not dating.”

  Nathaniel smiles for the first time since he began telling this part of his story. “Okay, honey, keep telling yourself that.”

  “I will. Because it’s true. But this isn’t about me. You were telling me your story, Nathaniel.”

  “Ah yes, I digress. Again. Back to my story.”

  “Yes, back to your story.”

  “I sat outside, in the sunlight. My mother left to do a quick errand. The nurse was in the house. Holly’s sister had Jeff. So I was by myself. Except for my recently deceased girlfriend.”

  “What happened?”

  “She spoke to me for the first time. Not in words, though; it was like her voice was inside my head. She blamed herself because I was paralyzed. Her overwhelming feelings of guilt were keeping her here with the living. Here with me, where she didn’t belong.”

  “Is that why she couldn’t let go?”

  “Yes. And I couldn’t let go, either. I blamed myself for her death. We both needed to stop feeling so guilty. We needed to forgive ourselves. Then Holly would be able to rest in peace. And I would be able to go on with my life. I had to live with the truth; I still loved her and always would. And she had to die with that truth. We couldn’t be together. We both had to accept it.”

  “How did you get her to leave?”

  “I told her there was nothing to forgive. And she told me the same. We convinced each other not to feel guilty. People make split-second decisions all the time, but as long as they’re made with good intentions and love, we can’t blame ourselves for the outcome. Sometimes you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and something horrible goes down. Sometimes you’re trying to be a hero and circumstances make it impossible. Sometimes you call for help because you know you need it and everything goes tragically wrong.”

  “And that’s what happened the night she died.”

  He nods his head. “Holly did the right thing. She knew she’d drunk too much and she called for a sober ride home. Everyone she was with kept on partying, drank a lot more. They all lived to attend her funeral. I missed it. Because I did the right thing, too. I went out to rescue her. When they buried Holly, I was still in the hospital. I couldn’t even go to her funeral.”

  I touch Nathaniel’s hand again.

  He turns it palm up and closes it around mine. “That day, sitting in the wheelchair, in the sunlight, I got my chance to say goodbye to Holly. Forever.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ll never forget her. What can you say about a girl who dresses up like a ninja and sneaks into someone’s yard to steal a puppy? Goodbye, Beautiful. There will never be anyone else like you.”

  I sit t
here for a minute, thinking, stroking Jeff’s fur. Finally I break the silence and ask, “You’ve seen other ghosts since then, haven’t you?”

  “Whether I want to or not,” he answers. “If a person asks me to reach out to someone they’ve lost, I can usually channel the spirit, or at least communicate with them in some way.”

  “You channel them?”

  “Yes, I meditate, freeing my mind of earthly concerns. Then they enter and speak through me for a short time. I can even remember what they’ve said, because I can hear them speak while they’re speaking through me. I’m always starving and exhausted afterwards.”

  Nathaniel reaches down and grips my shoulder. I look up at him. “Annabelle, Wyatt channeled a spirit tonight. The ghost of the Lonesome Boy climbed inside his mind and spoke, using his voice. Both of you have taken on more than you’re ready for. By the way, I can see your ghost, but barely. He’s scrunched down in a dark corner over there, keeping his distance, so he won’t upset Jeff. But he definitely belongs to you two lovebirds and he’s a weirdo. Good luck with him; I’ll help in any way I can. But you have a long, rough road ahead of you.”

  Ignoring the lovebird comment, I stand and bend over to hug Nathaniel.

  He hugs me back. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home. I know your parents, by the way, so I’d love to come in and say hello if it’s okay with you. Your dad did the renovations on our house, to make it accessible.”

  “I suppose that’s cool, as long as Jeff’s included.”

  “Ahhh, another woman who’s only interested in me because of my dog.”

  “He’s a lot better looking than you are,” I lie.

  Chapter 12

  My Father’s Story

  We say goodnight, leaving Wyatt in Oliver’s capable hands. And I get to ride home in Nathaniel’s pimped-out van. He can control everything with the remote on his keychain. There’s a hydraulic lift in back for the wheelchair. Once he’s back there, he secures the wheelchair and hoists himself up like a gymnast, through the two captain’s chairs and into the driver’s seat.