Dying to Return (The Station #3)

by Trish Marie Dawson

  “Dhara?”

  “That’s Rush’s home planet. And Kerry-Anne, we can’t even grasp how much life is out there.” I point upward, though above us is the same white light as the rest of the Station. “Humans are so far away from realizing our place.”

  “I don’t think you needed to go all the way to Dhara to know that.” She tucks some hair behind her ear and smiles at me.

  “True,” I laugh.

  “So, now what? Do you just go back to normal…take another case and move on like nothing happened?” She’s rubbing the trim of her dress again.

  “Well. No. Actually, the Mentors haven’t told me what I do next. But I can’t go back to being a Volunteer.” I tap my head and smile nervously, “Too much going on up here now. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “You can’t go on assignment again? Like…ever?” She looks appalled, as if my existence at the Station will cease to exist if I’m no longer a Volunteer.

  “Nope. But there’s a lot to do around here. Like…” I trail off, dragging my fingers through the cool water. I don’t want to sit behind a desk. What will I do here?

  “It will work out,” Kerry-Anne leans forward and pats my leg, “You’ll see. At least you’re home now.”

  Home. The word is becoming more confusing by the second.

  I stand up and pull Kerry-Anne to her feet. “Come on; let’s walk around for a bit. My butt’s numb.”

  “Numb?”

  “Oh, yeah. About that…”

  We walk around the Station enough times to get dizzy as I talk more about my experiences in another world, and how my body is now mine again, except for my icy eye. And I tell her about Ryan Burke. About how I forgave him. The only thing I don’t tell her is the jumbled mess my feelings have become about Sloan and Rush. Saying the words would be impossible, since I can hardly find them in my own mind.

  The more we walk and talk, the easier it is for me to block out the quiet voices around us. The unspoken words of sadness, confusion, hate, desire, love and longing. Amazing how different each person is, yet how simplistically same humans truly are.

  Kerry-Anne has asked more about the bridge, and I do my best to explain the feeling of coming apart and fusing back together. Even with a physics degree, I’m not sure I could explain it any better. It’s at the tail-end of this conversation that Niles finds us wandering around the Training department.

  “Piper, it’s so good to see you here again.” He slides an arm around my own and walks with us, eager to hear the stories of my adventure in Dhara, just as much as Kerry-Anne. He nods, he smiles, he laughs when appropriate, but he asks no questions because he doesn’t really want to know about the place I went to, he just wants to hear me talk. Niles doesn’t like Rush, he doesn’t trust what he is. And he’s afraid of what I might become. Something heavy hangs inside him, I can see it set deep in his eyes, but I won’t take the information from him unless he wants to share it. I can’t violate Niles that way.

  “Kerry-Anne,” he says finally, “There was a certain young man looking for you earlier.”

  “Oh! Piper, don’t leave again, okay? I’ll be back!” She goes up on her toes to kiss my cheek then dashes away from us, instantly swallowed up by the crowd.

  “If not for anyone else, I’m grateful you came back for her. You’re like her big sister,” Niles says quietly.

  “She’s not my only family here, you know that, right?” I squeeze his arm, enjoying the feel of his argyle sweater as it scratches against my elbow.

  He nods. A silence passes between us as we walk around the fountain. I smile at a group of teen girls giggling and at a lonesome looking boy my age with vacant eyes. I’ve worn the same expression myself before. It’s hard to stay quiet, but I feel as if Niles is debating whether or not to tell me something, so I remain silent until he’s ready.

  I’m not expecting what he says when he pauses our walk to take my hands in his. “Piper, there’s something I must tell you.”

  “Okay,” I breathe.

  “I think I’ve been teetering on the edge of something for a long while. When you arrived here, I knew I had to ensure that you were settled. And you are now. Well,” he laughs, “You are as settled as I can hope for. Which means I can take my next step.”

  “Next step?”

  “Yes, Piper. I’m ready to move on. Edith and I both.”

  My brows furrow together. “Move on to where?”

  “Our beyond,” he says quietly.

  “You’re leaving the Station?” The air around me thins and I suck it in greedily in order to keep from passing out. He can’t leave us. He can’t leave me.

  “It’s my time, dear. Like I said before – I’ve been on this precipice for some time. But I wasn’t done, something kept me here. Kept Edith here. And I think that was you.”

  My chin has begun to jerk as it does before I cry, and after Niles pulls me into him for a bear hug, I breathe in the clean scent I’ve come to love about him. “When?”

  “Soon, dear. We’ve been only waiting for your return. I couldn’t leave you without saying goodbye, and good luck.”

  “But what will I do? I don’t know if I can be here without you. You’re…you’re like a father to me, I hope you know that.”

  Tears brim in his eyes as he nods, “And you are like a daughter. You’re special, Piper. Remember that always, but never let it go to your head. You have a purpose, just as you always did. Your choices in life, especially the one that led you here, they don’t define you. Would you take back your death if you could? Yes, I’m sure you would. But you can’t, dear. None of us can. We can only move on and help others. We are the lucky ones who have the chance to do something great. Something exceptional.” Niles pauses and hugs me again. “I’ve done many things here I am proud of, Piper. But I think my greatest accomplishment might be meeting you.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you here, I don’t know how to find my place,” I cry.

  “You’ll survive. You’ll thrive. Piper, believe in yourself and the way will always find you.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Funny how I can go from being happy enough to see rainbows in Sloan’s eyes, to depressed enough that the concept of eternal purgatory is actually a consideration. Niles leaving the Station is a blow to the gut. We hugged and cried and then he scampered off to do Mentor work while I wander around the Station alone. So many new faces, so many new stories. Eventually I end up at the Ones building, like so many times before.

  Inside there are seven children – all under eleven years old. The youngest is nine. It’s the first time I’ve been able to hear their thoughts. If one of them looks up and sees me crying on the other side of the bay window, it could freak them out. But their lives were so full of sadness and turmoil that I can’t move away.

  One girl was abused physically for all of her life and saw her younger brother beaten to death. She used her father’s handgun to end her life. Another girl, ten years old, was bullied at school by older children for years because of her glasses and limp-like gait. She hung herself with a belt. Her mother is the one who found her lifeless body in her closet, right in between the Christmas dress she wore the season before and her favorite Star Wars shirt. She never understood why her beautiful and sweet daughter took her life.

  A boy, twelve years old, told another boy at school he thought he was cute and tried to kiss him. He was beaten so badly after school by a group of classmates that he lost the sight in his right eye. After being relentlessly harassed by his peers online, he used lighter fuel from the BBQ, locked himself in the bathroom and set himself on fire. In an attempt to put the fire out, he wrapped the shower curtain around his body but the plastic created a tunnel, lighting him like a candle. His dad heard the screams and broke the door down to find the plastic infused to his unrecognizable son’s skin. The boy died in the hospital two weeks later.

  There’s not a dry place on my face. Tears pour from my eyes and snot flows out of my nose. No matter how many t
imes I wipe the mess away with my hand, my face can’t stay dry; I keep leaking. The pain won’t last much longer for them; I know this to be true. But it hurts so much. Like a blade twisting in my heart that I can’t rip out. I want to hug them and kiss them all. Hold them in my arms until they forget the life they lost. Even the preteen with a personality disorder and a chemical imbalance that the system failed shouldn’t be here. They don’t deserve to be here. They should be with friends, with family that loves them. Which is where they will go after their brief visit here is over. I think I understand why they’ve ended up at the Station to begin with. Innocence is not defined by age. Most of the children in the Ones department lost their innocence long before they died. It’s about what’s left in the soul. And children hold onto that piece of innocence until age strips them of it. The Station processes the pathway for these kids. To make sure they end up in a place that is better than where they came from. They are here simply waiting for a pass. And at the Station they are cared for, loved and respected. During their stint here, the worries will fade and curiosity about what is to come will replace the fear. And then that natural innocence will take over, allowing the child to heal. To move on. If only adults could manage the same feat.

  “Well, when I didn’t find you at the fountain, I figured this is where you’d end up.” A soft voice speaks behind me and I smear the mess on my face with the back of my hand before I turn around to embrace Mallory. We don’t say anything to each other; just cry together until it’s impossible to tell who the tears belong to. She is the only one who has been inside my head during my darkest moments. Being my Volunteer, she can read me like a book.

  Eventually I manage to stop crying, and sniff against her shoulder, “Hi.”

  “Hey you. Sloan told me about what happened. And Kerry-Anne, and Niles.”

  “Wow, no privacy at the Station, huh?”

  “Nope,” she laughs, “None. And that Rush dude is collecting dust over in Consignment. Why is he still here?” She uses her fingers from one hand to carefully move my hair off my face and tuck it behind my ears. Very matronly. Very…Mallory.

  “What, no one told you about that yet?” I laugh.

  She tilts her head to the side, her eyes asking questions. I know she knows. But she won’t say it out loud, not until I do. That’s why I love Mallory.

  “He’s here for me.” I shrug my shoulders as if the simple statement explains it all. Judging by the look in her eyes, I sense she understands enough.

  “Sloan is really upset. Mostly at himself, I’d guess.” She takes my hand and walks me away from the Ones building. I bump shoulders with a boy I had training with, but he doesn’t look up. He’s on his way to a case, as is obvious from the chunk of dark glass in his hand.

  “Yeah. I guess I expected too much from him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He knows I’ve changed and he doesn’t like it.”

  Mallory nods at me, and smiles. “I don’t know. I like the new look.”

  “You mean this?” I point up at my new eye.

  “Well, there’s that. And the clothes. They feel expensive,” she laughs. “Plus, your hair looks really pretty like this. Not that you needed a makeover. You’ve always had an understated gorgeous look to you.”

  Coming from the beauty queen, the compliment makes me blush. I’ve always felt ordinary. And now, after coming here, ordinary is perfectly okay. But still, I snatch the compliment up and gobble it down like ice cream smothered in butterscotch and chocolate syrup. With sprinkles. And one of those funky cherries.

  “Mallory, would you change things, if you could go back and do it all over again?”

  She looks down at the ground and tugs on the front of her shirt. “Sure. I’d pick a cuter outfit.”

  I know it’s meant as a joke, but when I don’t laugh, she sighs and nods at me.

  “I would want to. But I don’t know what I’d do differently, actually. Does that make sense?”

  With a soft laugh she throws one of her slender arms around my shoulders, “Yep, makes perfect sense. And one could go crazy with thoughts like these. We know now the pain we caused when we took our lives. We know what we missed out on. And how awful it was for our families. But on the flip-side, we also know what good we’ve done for others. You know, now that I think about it more, I’m not sure I’d change anything. If I did, who would have been there for you?”

  Mallory kisses my cheek and changes the subject. In between stories about her last two assignments, I look around at the passing crowd as we wander aimlessly from one side of the Station to the other. The faces all morph into one and I realize I have unfinished business.

  “I’ll catch up to you later, I have to talk to someone,” I say to her.

  We hug and go our separate ways; she to the Training building to look for another friend, and me to Consignment. I find Rush almost in the same place I left him. He’s talking to Edith, of all people. When she sees me, she gives me a guilty look. Niles must have told her that I know of their plans to move on.

  “Piper,” she leans over to hug me before excusing herself from Rush, and the upturned curls of her hair tickle my cheek, “It’s good to have you back, dear. I’ll let the two of you speak.”

  “Want to walk for a bit?” It’s not what I want to do, but I’d rather not run into Sloan while with Rush, and I figure taking him outside, away from Sloan’s work area might narrow down the chances of that happening.

  “Of course. I was beginning to think you forgot about me,” he jokes.

  The crowd avoids Rush like a plague. I’ll never produce the same amount of energy he does, not to the extent that it’s visible to everyone else. It’s his touch that others are afraid of. Though he can control it somewhat, I know that a random zap while bumping shoulders is not something anyone wants to experience. Even though I have my arm hooked with his and appear safe enough, he’s still seen as an unknown threat.

  “I fear I have complicated things for you, Piper. I want to apologize for that.” He rubs at his chin with his free hand as we approach the fountain.

  “It’s not your fault. Okay, maybe some of it is, but I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me. Really, I am.”

  “Are you?” He peers at me curiously, wondering if my words are true or forced.

  I prop open my mental door so the rest of our conversation can be held between just us.

  You can’t stay here forever. You know this, right? I ask, not looking at him, but watching others as they walk around us.

  I do know this.

  But you aren’t ready to leave?

  No, I’m not.

  I’m not ready for you to go.

  That makes things even more complicated than I thought they were.

  Yeah.

  Two young men, maybe in their thirties pass by and we quiet to watch them. They’re holding hands, laughing about something. Clearly in love. I chew on my lip to keep it from quivering. The moment is beautiful. And reminds me that love in whatever context is a thing to be cherished and respected. When I look over at Rush, he is also smiling at the couple.

  Can I make a proposal? I ask.

  He looks back at me. The ice of his gaze is gone, replaced by a sparkle of hope. With a nod, he lets me continue.

  I was just thinking. Why do you have to leave anyway? Can you stay here till I figure things out?

  You mean, until you figure things out with Sloan Nash?

  I nod slowly. Feeling rather foolish and like the girl I used to be.

  Waiting here will prolong the inevitable, I’m afraid.

  But if you leave…how will I find you again.

  Rush laughs loudly, causing a woman lounging on the fountain ledge to jump. She wonders why we are sitting next to each other not talking, just gesturing back and forth. I want to giggle, but that would be rude, so I settle with a causal smile in her direction instead.

  Piper, I can come back here. You speak as if when I leave, I’ll never return. He reac
hes out and touches the thin golden threads wrapped around my wrist and I remember what Della told me. We are bound together through this. Like family. If you want me to return, simply will it to be.

  You want to come back then?

  For you? Nothing could keep me away forever.

  I smile at him. It’s exactly what I needed to hear. Now there’s one other person left to talk to.

  ***

  Walking Rush back to the depot room for his departure was the most tortuous walk I’ve taken in my life. Once we get there, we are left alone in the room, facing each other awkwardly, unsure of how to say goodbye.

  “I’ll return, Piper.”

  “I know you will. And you know where to find me.”

  “You’ll do well here. I can see it. Your future holds the promise of new beginnings.” He reaches for my hand and I allow him to hold it to his chest, where the beating of his heart matches the frenzy of my own.

  “New beginnings. The after-life seems full of them,” I smile.

  “Yes. Which is the point.” He steps toward me, pulling me closer.

  I want nothing but happiness for you, Piper Willow.

  And I, for you, Andurush.

  He reaches up and touches the corner of my eye, the one he gave me. This won’t be the only piece of me I leave with you. I give my heart to you. Take care of it while I am away.

  Ditto.

  Because I know he won’t initiate it, I bounce up on my toes before he can stop me, pushing my lips to his, sealing the promise of another time between us in a kiss. Currents zap and hiss, but I don’t pull away. I allow our mouths to meld together as Rush cups my face and I wrap my arms around his waist. When we part, both of us gasp in air greedily.

  Until you’re ready.

  I nod. As he steps away, nearing the center of the room, a hole tears open one of the walls and his bridge stretches out into space. The air whips my hair around my face, temporarily blocking my view of him.

  “Rush! Wait!” I yell above the roar of the portal.

  With his arms slightly held away from his body and his head tilted down, the dark brown waves of his hair dance in the air and he smiles at the ground. Long lashes flutter against his cheeks as he says above the noise, “I know, Piper. I know. And ditto.”