Tom straightened and made me face him. “Cory, listen to me. You said that Maggie chose to settle for her memories and remain in the past. Don’t you make that choice. I told you once that you will have a wonderful life, and you will. But you must elect to live. Promise me that you will.”
I couldn’t answer, the tears running down my face and into my mouth.
“Promise me, or I assure you we will never be together again.”
“I promise,” I choked.
He pushed my hair back, touching the edge of the bandage. “That’s my good girl. The pain of this parting will fade, and in time you will be able to remember it without distress. And in a longer time, it will seem like a dream. When you’re old, you may convince yourself that you imagined it all, and that’s perhaps a good thing. But it happened, and it happened for a reason.” He kissed my forehead. “You were wearing Maggie’s dress,” he said.
“She gave it to me. She’d saved it all those years.”
“I’m glad you got to be friends.”
I broke into a storm of weeping, and he hushed me. “Someone will hear,” he said.
“What am I going to do? I will have no one.”
“Don’t be sad.” I could see his smile in the light from the hall. “I am sending someone to you.”
I didn’t want anybody else, I wanted Tom. “How will I know this person?” I asked, not really caring but wanting to placate him.
“You will know.”
Who could possibly replace him? Who could fill the void that he would leave?
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Not in this life. But in the next.”
“Are you sure?”
“Live a good life, do your best to love and not hurt others, and you will see me again. For now, try to get along with your mother and understand your father. Later on, the problems will become more difficult. But you have good instincts, Cory. Follow them, and we’ll be together at the end of your life.”
“But that’s so long away,” I sobbed.
“Many years for you, an instant for me. Where I go, time has no meaning. You have the harder task, to live on without me. But you can do it, Cory. You’re strong and you have a great heart.”
“I’m not strong,” I answered. “Not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are,” he replied. There was a sound from the corridor, and he started. It was the night nurse on her rounds.
“I have to go,” he said.
I gripped his hands convulsively.
He held them to his face and kissed them. “I love you. I love you now, and I will love you for eternity. Remember me.”
I reached into the neck of my hospital gown and drew out the chain of my grandmother’s medallion. “Take this,” I whispered, slipping it over his head. “Keep it to remind you of me.”
He kissed my lips, he kissed my face, wet with my tears and his. “Where I’m going you can’t follow,” he whispered. “But some day, when your time has come, we’ll be together.”
“I have to believe that,” I whimpered. “I have to.”
“It’s the truth, Cory,” he said.
A cart wheeled to a stop outside the door.
“Goodbye,” Tom said. “I love you, Cory. Goodbye.”
“Not yet,” I cried, clinging to him with my eyes closed. I gradually became aware that I was touching nothingness. He was gone.
“Goodbye, my darling,” I sobbed, and then broke down completely. The nurse bustled into the room at the sound of my crying and turned on the light.
“My goodness, what’s this?” she exclaimed. “Did you have a nightmare? And why is this room so cold? Is there a window open?”
“Go away,” I sobbed.
“Now, now. We can’t have you upsetting yourself like this. I’m calling the doctor right now and getting an order to give you another sedative.”
I listened to the departing squeak of her shoes as she strode purposefully down the hall to the desk. She returned within minutes with a syringe.
“This will calm you down,” she said, giving me the shot. “I want you to relax and try to go back to sleep.”
I didn’t argue with her. I was hardly listening to her. Tom was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.
Nothing else mattered at all.
* * *
In the morning I tried to convince myself that I had dreamed his visit, but I knew I hadn’t. The impression was too vivid, the memory too intense.
Mom arrived to tell me that she had contacted my teachers and told them I would be out of school for about a week. When I was discharged I was supposed to go home and rest.
Linda was allowed to visit, and she was full of news about my dramatic departure from the party. At the noise of the accident everyone had rushed outside and found me on the grassy verge that bordered the road, out cold. She described the scene with relish, now that she knew I was going to be all right. I was sure it hadn’t been as melodramatic as she made it sound, but it was clear that the guests had experienced more at Gina’s Halloween party than the expected festivities. She said that everyone was talking about my accident at school, and they were all looking forward to my return to hear about it firsthand. This caused my already sunken spirits to plummet lower than ever. The last thing I needed was to be the object of curiosity when I got back to school. All I wanted was to be left alone.
“I hope they’ve forgotten all about it by the time I get back,” I said.
“Brian hasn’t forgotten it,” Lin said uncomfortably. “He keeps calling Ken to see how you are.” She reached into her purse. “He sent this to Ken to give to you.”
It was a get well card. He had written at the bottom, “Sorry about everything. I guess we were just mismatched. I hope you feel better soon. Brian.”
I looked up at Linda. She was watching me carefully.
“It was nice of him to send this,” I said to her. “I apparently misjudged him, which wouldn’t be the first mistake I made in my life. Just because he has an overbearing personality doesn’t mean he’s a jackass.”
She smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re actually growing up.”
“It had to happen sometime.”
She reached for some of the cookies my mother had brought and left on the bedside table. “So when are you getting out of this joint?”
“Tomorrow.”
“And the stitches?”
“I have to go for a checkup next week. The doctor will decide then.”
“Dr. Mayfield?”
“No, the doctor here who admitted me when I was brought in.” Linda and I had both gone to Dr. Mayfield for years.
She stirred uneasily in her chair. I sensed there was something else she wanted to say.
“What is it, Lin?”
She looked down at the remains of the cookie she was holding. “What actually happened out there, Cory? Why did you run into the street?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. Do we have to keep talking about it?”
“Well, you have to admit that it was a weird thing to do,” she said defensively.
“Weird behavior from me is nothing unusual.”
She shook her head. “There’s more to it, but if you don’t want to tell me, I can’t make you.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I only want to help,” she said, her lip trembling. “I’m your friend, and something is bothering you. Can’t you let me in on it?”
I patted her arm. “Linda, if there were something you could do, I would tell you all about it. But this is something I have to handle by myself.”
“All right,” she said decisively. “I give up.” She extracted a slip of paper from her ring binder and handed it to me.
“I got that from your guidance counselor,” she said. “She called around for some of your reading assignments so you wouldn’t fall too far behind.”
“Thanks, Lin.”
“Can you read yet?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to try it and see if my head blows o
ff.”
She laughed, and I felt better. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but there was nothing I could say about what had happened that wouldn’t convince her I was having a nervous breakdown.
She stood. “I’m off. I’ve got a trig test tomorrow and I’m way behind. I’ll be burning the midnight oil to catch up.”
“Good luck.”
She waved. “So long. I’ll see you later.” She ambled off toward the hall, her giant shoulder bag banging into her hip with every step.
I examined the slip of paper she’d given me. Miss Kenworthy had completed her assault on Gatsby and moved on to The Catcher in the Rye. I’d read that when I was in junior high, and remembered Holden’s question about where the ducks in the Central Park pond went during the winter. This reminded me of Tom and the ducks in Lake Afton, and I let the paper fall to the bed.
Would everything always remind me of him?
I was discharged from the hospital the next day. I was hoping that my mother would go in to work that afternoon, but she stayed home and hovered over me. I tried very hard to convince her that I was fully recovered so she would go back to her class. The substitute called her that night with terrible tales of her students’ misbehavior, and I think that convinced her that it was time I was left to recuperate on my own.
When she went to work the next morning I surveyed myself in the mirror. The gauze bandage was gone, but there was a shaved patch on my head which showed the row of stitches like a Frankenstein zipper. I combed my hair gingerly around it and jammed on a knit hat to cover the damage. The effect was to make me look like a drunken Norwegian sailor, but it was the best I could do. I waited until the middle of the morning when I was sure my mother would be occupied and unlikely to call home to check up on me, and then I set out for the mill.
Benti Bradley was on duty, and she looked up in surprise when I came through the door.
“Well. What are you doing here this time of day? Shouldn’t you be in school?” she greeted me.
“I’m still resting at home.”
“Yes,” she said dryly in her clipped accent, “I see that you are.”
“I just want to get something. I’ll be off in a minute.”
“Take your time,” she said, turning back to the sheaf of papers she was perusing. “Just don’t pass out or anything drastic like that. I don’t think I’m equipped to handle it.”
“I’ll be fine.” I went into the back room and went out through the hidden door. Once on the balcony I closed my eyes and summoned Tom with every fiber of my being.
Nothing. I felt nothing. I had no sense of his presence, not even the feeling of comfort I’d always had there before I met him.
“Tom,” I called softly.
There was no reply.
“Tom,” I repeated, louder this time. The echo of my voice floating out over the water mocked me.
I put the back of my hand to my mouth. He was gone, he was really gone forever. I would never see him again.
I had not quite accepted it until that moment, when I called him and he didn’t come. He was beyond the reach of my summons now, in a different place where I could never touch him.
I turned slowly and went back inside.
* * *
When Mom returned from work she found me tense and preoccupied. I attempted to perk up for her benefit, but she knew it was an act.
“I’m seeing your father this weekend,” she volunteered, dropping this bomb casually.
I stared at her in surprise. I could have sworn that she turned faintly pink.
“Don’t get excited, Cory; I just came to the conclusion that keeping up this wall of silence was ridiculous. We’ll have dinner and go over a few things that we really need to discuss.”
Like the adolescent dementia of your only child? I thought with some amusement.
She saw my expression. “Don’t go getting your hopes up,” she cautioned. “We’re talking, not eloping.”
“I can dream, can’t I?” I said airily, and she laughed.
I hadn’t heard her laugh like that in a long while.
Two nights later she finally went out to go shopping. It was the first time she’d left me alone for any amount of time, and I dialed Linda’s number as soon as Mom pulled out of the driveway.
When Linda answered I asked rapidly, “Lin, can you get your father’s car tonight?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“I have someplace I have to go, and my mother is out with our car.”
“Not to mention that you’re supposed to be staying home and not gallivanting around town,” Linda replied.
“Look, don’t lecture me. Will you just see if you can get the car? It would really help me. I wouldn’t ask this favor if it weren’t important.”
“Where shall I say I’m going?” she asked. Linda had a very straightforward mind, and always required my assistance in planning anything devious.
“Say you’re coming to visit me,” I instructed impatiently. “That’s not even a lie, exactly.”
“It’s not the truth either,” she said piously.
“Lin, will you do it?” I said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, okay. Where are we really going?”
“To visit a friend of mine,” I answered.
There was a pause. Then, “All right. Hang on.” I heard the receiver hit the end table in her rec room, and then she came back on the line.
“I’ve got the car,” she said. “But if you get me into trouble over this you’re going to be sorry.”
“There won’t be any trouble. Just get here as fast as you can.”
“Bye.”
“Bye, Lin.” I hung up with a feeling of triumph. It usually wasn’t this easy to arrange transportation. Both my mother and Lin’s parents acted as if we were going to take off to Tiajuana every time we borrowed a car.
While I waited for Lin I went to my room and got Maggie’s dress, folding it carefully and putting it into a shopping bag. I left a note for my mother and prepared to face the consequences that would arise if she got home before I did. Stella was ensconced on the sofa as I passed, and thumped her tail sleepily. I pet her quickly and kept going.
I was standing outside on the sidewalk when Lin arrived. I got into the passenger side of the car and she said, “All right. Where are we going?”
“To the Shady Rest Village in Philadelphia.”
“Philadelphia,” she groaned. “I knew it. If my father finds out about this I’m going to get killed.”
“Your father is not going to find out about it unless you tell him,” I replied, losing patience with her timidity. “Where is your sense of adventure?”
“Adventure! You know how he is about this car!”
“What can happen to your car in the parking lot of a nursing home?”
“We have to drive there first. If I have an accident I’ll be grounded until the twenty-first century.”
“Then be careful. I have the directions right here.”
We only got lost once this time. Linda drove about thirty miles an hour the whole way, causing several drivers to pass her in a fury. She didn’t mind. She was taking no chances.
“Who are you going to see?” she asked as we pulled into the Shady Rest’s driveway.
“Miss Sanborn. She’s an old teacher of my mother’s.”
“I didn’t know you were friendly with any of your mother’s teachers.”
“I just met her,” I said evasively. “Do you want to come in with me?”
“No thanks,” she answered gloomily. “These places depress me. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
We went into Building C and Linda dropped into a chair in the reception area. I made my way down to apartment 12.
It was empty. The door was ajar and the room was bare of furnishings. The plastic covered mattress was turned on its side on the bed.
I felt my heart plummet into my stomach. I was very much afraid that I knew the explanation for this.
I went to the n
urse at the desk. “I’m here to see Miss Sanborn,” I said. “Her room is empty.”
The expression on the nurse’s face told me all I needed to know. “Oh, dear, I’m very sorry,” she said, distressed. “Are you a friend or a relative?”
“A friend.”
“Well, you should have been notified. Miss Sanborn passed away in her sleep several days ago. She had a bad heart, you know, and it just stopped beating one night. She went very peacefully.”
I clutched the shopping bag more tightly. “Was there a service?”
“Her niece in New Jersey was the next of kin. She took the body there, I believe. She came and packed up all Miss Sanborn’s effects, and gave quite a few clothes to the relief fund.”
“I wanted to return this,” I said, extending the bag. “It’s a dress she let me borrow.”
“Oh, I would keep that if I were you,” the nurse said. “I’m sure the niece doesn’t want it.”
“Yes, I guess I will,” I answered slowly.
“She didn’t suffer, and it was time for her to go,” the nurse said to me gently. “She was very old.”
“I know she was. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, miss. Good night.”
I walked slowly back out to the lobby. Linda looked up from her magazine.
“What happened?” she asked when she saw my face.
“The person I came to see isn’t here,” I answered. “She went somewhere else.”
“Oh. I guess this was a wasted trip, then.”
I nodded.
“Let’s hit the road,” she said briskly. “You’ll save yourself a lot of grief if you get back before your mother does.”
I followed her out to the car.
I had promised Maggie I would return, and I never had. I had come back too late.
Maggie and Tom were together at last.
Chapter 10
I went back to school the next week. My status as a cause celebre had faded somewhat by then, for which I was grateful. My interesting scar still aroused some discussion, but when the stitches were removed, only an angry red line was visible. My hair was even growing back. Soon the only reminder of the incident would be in my soul.
I caught up on my classes fairly quickly. I had to stay some extra periods in earth science to make up the labs, and I owed Miss Kenworthy several treatises. I set to work with a vengeance, hoping to blot out the emptiness I felt without Tom.
Season of Mists (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (Cupid's First Strike - Teen Love In The 80's) Page 13