by Jamie Ayres
Music that sounded like old hymnals played softly through the hallway speakers. The sound gave me an idea. Lightning quick, I pulled the fire alarm. The ringing pierced my ears. I waited for the hall to fill with more students, then followed them down the stairs. Just before I exited the lobby, someone announced over the loudspeaker the fire had been a false alarm, and we were free to go about our daily business. Unsure of where to go, I steered clear of the cafeteria and walked to the other wall, studying the announcements on the large bulletin board, hoping for clues as to what this place was exactly. One paper in particular caught my eye. Free guitar lessons from Conner Anderson every Thursday night from six to seven at campsite number one.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Instantly, I recognized Conner’s voice. The way he spoke—in a somewhat quick, throwaway, carefree manner—was unmistakable.
I turned just in time to see him entering the cafeteria with the guy from the security monitor trailing behind him. Watching Conner take a seat at the picnic table and then devouring breakfast felt surreal. He seemed to enjoy his playful banter with his friend around bites of pancakes and sips of orange juice. This Conner looked more like my Conner than the pictures Sam showed me. His dreads were gone, replaced by a hairstyle that wasn’t exactly long or short, more like Harry Potter during his fourth year at Hogwarts. As someone who liked to listen to punk rock and indie rock in equal doses, he was always a character who seemed at odds with himself. I just figured he hadn’t made up his mind about the kind of person he wanted to be yet, and why should he? He had been seventeen and had every right to believe he had all the time in the world to figure things out. The burden of responsibility threatened to weigh me down again. But at the same time, this responsibility had given me purpose, and led me to Conner.
After one last sweep of the area, I decided the coast was clear for me to step inside the cafeteria. But after a few steps toward Conner’s table, I stopped short. A girl pretty enough to stop traffic smoothed down his hair from across the table. My mouth hung open by its own accord, and I sunk down onto the nearest bench, thinking this was the end of me.
Things only deteriorated as I watched their interaction. She soon wrapped him in a hug before launching into a heated discussion. A spat between lovers? But there was Conner’s trademark look of almost intimidating coolness, so perhaps this girl cared way more for him than he did about her. I gained some confidence back as I realized some things never changed, then stood to approach him once more. But I stopped short again when I saw him giving her a familiar peck on the lips.
Oh, this was a mistake. Why would I ever think he’d be lost without me? Tears blurred my vision as the words ‘too late’ echoed through my mind, everything within me turning to ice. ‘Too late’ seemed to be the story of my life. I wanted to run the other way and forget the past twenty-four hours. But I told myself to be rational, to use the I.Q. God gifted me with to think things through. I decided whatever happened, for better or worse, I hadn’t come this far to turn back now without even saying hello to my best friend. And that’s all he ever was… my friend. No reason whatsoever to feel jealous of this girl right now. Except now might not be the time to let Conner know I was here, but—
“Olga?”
My heart stopped. For a moment, time seemed to stop as well, and my body froze in a strange position. Our last outing together flashed before my eyes, and joy finally settled in—I’d found my way to him again.
He ran to me, lifted me off the ground, and swung me around and around, letting me know he felt the same way.
So much for staying inconspicuous.
“Is it you? Is it really you, or am I dreaming?”
Our gazes met. I couldn’t believe I was looking at Conner, staring into his blue eyes. He wore a pair of dark gray athletic shorts that rested on his knees and a plain white T-shirt revealing his muscled body quite well. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about his muscles or his flat, hard stomach, but old habits died hard. Already a familiar feeling hung between us, like no time was lost.
Pinching his stomach, I said, “It’s really me.”
His eyes filled with tears. “But, how?”
I stood on my tippy toes and reached up, placing my hands on his shoulders as I whispered into his ear. “Shh, not here.”
He grabbed my hand, and I shuddered. For a moment, we both just stood there, studying each other again.
“Okay, let’s go somewhere more private. Follow me.”
“There is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth—
but that all is truth without exception.”
—Walt Whitman
o, what have you been up to?” he asked, like this was completely normal.
Laughing, I held his gaze steadily. I couldn’t stop looking at Conner sitting across from me on his military style cot inside his tent.
In the cafeteria, he’d quickly introduced me to his roommate Bo, then to Julia, who stood silently, looking from Conner to me and back again. She didn’t give her stamp of approval on our alone time, but Conner didn’t wait around for her judgment either.
Now we both laughed at his question, and then there was silence for a moment. “Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Drinking coffee, joining the cheerleading squad with Tammy, winning karaoke contests with Sean, breaking world records at Grand Haven High School.”
He nodded, rubbing the stubble on his chin, and I could see a question on its way, one that would prove hard to answer. “Uh, you didn’t die? Are you visiting me by… by the power of the Force, and now you’re here to try to dead Yoda me?”
“Did I detect some classic Conner sarcasm in that question?”
“Um, yeah. Because I’m not sure I want to hear the truth. I want you to be alive, and you spent the last year with our friends, but that doesn’t explain how you’re here right now.”
My eyes traveled up to his forehead, where both eyebrows were still singed from the accident, and I sighed.
Conner plugged his ears.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s just that sigh you let loose. Seriously, I think you busted my eardrum. This must be one hell of a story you’re getting ready to tell.”
I shoved him sideways, and he fell off the cot. We both laughed again, and I felt all the history between us returning, putting me at ease as if we still lived back in those simpler times. I spent the next hour or so telling him about Limbo, about Nate in Limbo with me, because how could I leave Nate out of my story? I told him about a year of grief, sympathy, hardship, loss, atonement, and even love. I told him about leaving behind the person I’d been and moving on to the person I wanted to be.
He sat back, leaning on his palms. “Okay, number one. The person you had been was awesome. And num”—he stopped and shook his head—“so, what do you remember about the accident?”
“I…” I remember your gorgeous eyes, looking over the lake, and then I remember you falling into nothingness. The grief from the memory washed over me, and I couldn’t get any words out. I stared at the tent, at the bed, anywhere but Conner’s face. Our lives as we knew it were gone, and I still couldn’t get over that fact. Before I realized what was happening, I sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? It wasn’t your fault I got struck by lightning.”
“No.” More sniffling. “But I was the one who introduced you to sailing. I was the one who asked you to go with me that day because I was jealous of Tammy. I was supposed to be the responsible one, but I didn’t make you put on your lifejacket or wear mine. I didn’t notice until it was too late that you stopped breathing.” Suddenly, I felt dizzy, my vision swimming.
“Come here,” Conner said, sitting next to me and drawing me close. “Don’t play the blame game. You’ll frickin’ kill yourself with those kinds of thoughts.”
I recoiled at his comment. Yeah, no kidding. Still, I was grateful for his last sentence because I could use his choice of swear words to avoid the subject at hand.
&nb
sp; “What, are you too classy to say the real bad words now? Taking a page from Nic?”
Nicole always used the fake swear words while we worked at The Bookman. Since her parents were always around as the store owners, they wouldn’t have appreciated the things she really wanted to say when relaying the daily high school drama to me while we stocked the shelves. Instead, she started saying frick, fudge, shoot, and darn, and then the PG words just stuck to the point where she never muttered the real swear words anymore.
Conner nodded. “I’m trying to work on having better language. I figured it couldn’t hurt my situation here.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Yeah? Call me impressed.”
“Well, not cursing is considerably easier to do without GTA to play. I was thinking of going British style with the swear words. You know, wanker, bugger, bloody hell. Figured that might be a step up from before. I feel like I may need a twelve step program or something.”
I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh at his absurd thought process. “Whatever you want. I just think you may be missing the whole point though.”
His jaw twitched. “How’s that?”
I shrugged. “God wants us to care about what He cares about, and He always cares about people more than rules. The stories we read about Jesus demonstrated that over and over again. If you say more than five hundred thousand people die of cancer every year in America, but most people don’t give a flying—insert chosen expletive here—Jesus will take more offense to people dying and us not doing anything to help than saying a ‘bad word,’ ya know?”
He looked at me. “I hear ya, but if that’s how you feel, why have I never heard you say a real cuss word.”
“Because I’m perfect.” I winked at him. “Besides, I used to get a whipping for saying the ‘s’ word all the time as a kid.”
His mouth fell open. “You did? I never heard any type of potty language from you. Well, except crap.”
“No, the ‘s’ word to my mom was stupid or shut up.”
“Right? I do remember her looking at me like I’d killed her parents whenever I said those words around her, too.”
“Oh, you remember that, do you?”
“A couple things about my time with you stuck.” He remained silent for a moment, and I heard birds calling out somewhere. “But I can’t remember when you died.”
My eyes went wide. “I’m sorry?”
He sighed. “I mean, I must’ve died quickly. I hardly remember a thing. Just us joking around, then blinding rain, then the strike, then you screaming my name, then someone trying to save me. I thought that someone was probably you, but now… were you hit by the lightning, too?”
I shifted uncomfortably out of his arms. “No, Conner.” I tiptoed around the subject like it was dynamite. Any minute now, I would explode. “The lightning strike flung you from the boat. I dove in after you. The water was freezing. It took me a while, too long, to get you and swim back to the boat, and hypothermia set in. Eventually, I draped you over the lifebuoy and dialed 9-1-1. I should’ve noticed sooner you weren’t breathing, should’ve pulled you on board sooner to administer the rescue breaths. I kept repeating the CPR steps over and over again. It was maybe five or six times before the boom of the sailboat swung in the wind and knocked me unconscious.”
Conner had been completely still while I spoke, but he groaned now, stomping his foot before standing. Sadness and anger clouded his features like the thunderstorm that had darkened the sky that fateful night. He picked up a lantern and flung it across the room, away from me. The light bulb inside exploded, a fitting metaphor for what my heart was doing.
“I can’t believe this! I’m the reason you’re dead!”
My entire body went cold. “What? No, Conner, let me finish.”
“Please,” he sobbed. “Don’t tell me anything more. I was right about not wanting to know the truth.”
I picked at a loose thread on the blanket covering his cot, tears streaming down my face. In my experience, knowing the truth tended to get you into a lot of trouble. I bent a lot of rules to come here. Actually, forget bending. I smashed them to the ground and made my own. And for what? To make Conner feel guilty about something he wasn’t responsible for? I still hadn’t informed him about becoming a spirit guide. Now I thought maybe not telling him anything else was the best plan of action.
He sat next to me, reached out and touched my hand. At first, the notion summoned a thousand other times he’d done the same thing for a number of reasons. But none of those reasons felt like this. This hand on my hand felt strange.
“Do you think everything happens for a reason?” He swept a tear off my cheek.
I stared at the ground, praying I could give a right answer for once, an answer that would bring comfort. “Yes. I mean, I’m sure we’d all love a perfect life. But like it or not, everything serves a purpose.”
He glanced uneasily at me. “Yeah, Leo always touches on that point at our weekly service. He says you can’t be triumphant without going through trials first.” He squeezed my hand. “Why did you come here, Olga?”
The same familiar blue eyes from my childhood bore into mine.
“The truth?”
He nodded.
“To see you. I just needed to see my friend.” I squeezed his hand back, harder than I meant to. “Even though I felt more alive this past year as a dead person, how could I ever be happy after learning the truth from Dr. Judy? After knowing in my heart someone I deeply cared for wasn’t there with me, but was within my grasp somewhere. At times, I tried to fight how I felt. But I think God put us in each other’s lives for a reason, and I thought I needed to use my situation to help you. And maybe you don’t need my help, but you’re a real part of me and for me as a whole to ever be saved, you would have to be there, as much as my own body has to be with my soul.”
He scooted closer and put both arms around me, hugging me as we both sobbed some more. Despite our sadness, I basked in the feeling of his warm arms around my shoulders, of the stubble of his chin on my scalp, of the closeness of us as my head rested on his chest. There was a long silence before he asked another question.
“What was your reaction when, when you found out you had been dead that whole year?”
I sat up, displacing his head. “I thought the news was the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. Wouldn’t you?”
He tugged at the blond hair falling into his eyes. He needed another haircut, and the thought struck me as odd, that his hair was still growing. Mine didn’t anymore.
“Remember my Aunt Tricia?” He grabbed a box from the shelf in-between his and Bo’s cots and passed me a tissue. “The nutty family member everyone has? She believed in ghosts, went to psychics, and had a Ouija board. I thought all of her superstitions were insane, but she was smarter than all of us.”
I laughed. Of course, only Conner could make me grin with one of his remarks at a time like this.
“You look really pretty when you laugh.”
An awkward silence pierced the air like a cannonball. I wasn’t used to compliments from Conner. I was used to a boy who thought of me as the nerdy best friend he loved to tease.
I cleared my throat. “Well, this isn’t weird at all.”
“Do you want to hear a corny joke?” His voice was unsteady. I didn’t think I’d ever heard his voice sound unsteady until today.
Shooting him a fake-annoyed look, I said, “Is the sky blue, the grass green?”
He smiled. “How do you make a hormone?”
I threw my pillow at him. “Conner! Don’t tell that kind of joke here.”
He lifted his shoulders and shrugged. “What? The only dirty mind here is you. All I was thinking is you like science, and it’s a science joke.”
“Oh, you remember that, do you?” I twisted my hands in his blanket.
“Olga, I remember everything about you.”
Suddenly, a lump rose in my throat. “Mhmm. Where’d you hear this joke?”
“Sean told
it to me in ninth grade.”
Swallowing over the lump, I blinked hard. “Then I definitely don’t want to hear the punch line. You wouldn’t believe the amount of totally inappropriate jokes he passed on to Nate.”
I blushed, forgetting I probably shouldn’t mention He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“Ah, him again.” He spoke in a harsh tone, one I’d hardly ever heard him use before. “So how serious is this relationship?”
I didn’t know how to answer this, so I deflected, like usual. “You know a nap sounds really good about now. Aren’t you tired? It looks late outside.”
“It always looks late outside. But we can climb underneath the covers if you want. I just wouldn’t get too comfortable because I’ll sit on top of you and fart until you tell me everything.”
“Back to your old dirty bag of tricks already? I figured an experience like this would’ve made you a little more mature.”
“I’m still just a rocker who likes to have fun.”
“And I’m still the quirky geek girl, except I’m dead and met my first boyfriend in an alternate universe. When you get beyond that, not much has changed.”
He gave me an incredulous look, and even in the darkness, I could see myself reflected in his eyes. “Everything changed today. For the past year, all I saw was your face. Your freckles scattered across your cheeks. You’re untamable red hair. Your moody eyes—always shifting from green to blue. Your nose—always in a book. Your lips—always pressed together in thought.” He lifted his hand and outlined the shape of my mouth with the tip of his finger.
I held my breath as my heart pounded. Him touching me this way, THE guy I’d always loved, felt intimate. No, not intimate. We’d been intimate friends for a long time. This felt a hundred times better than intimate, this felt… sexy.
“Now you’re here. And I really want to do something with you, even some things I shouldn’t want to do since you have a boyfriend, not to mention my girlfriend.”