The Everafter

by Amy Huntley

  After? Dad says that when you're there, you're with everyone

  you ever loved, that they become space and you fall into

  them. You'll become them, and they'll become you. Everyone

  is there, according to him, even if they're not dead yet,

  because they're, well, already dead somewhere."

  Who knew Gabe's dad could be so poetic? I bet he's

  lounging around in the After with Emily Dickinson and my

  mother. They're having great debates about the meaning of

  death and loss.

  While becoming one another, of course.

  Not that I'm bitter or anything. "So if the Afters

  that great, why haven't you gone there yet? Can't you get

  there?"

  "I don't know. I think I could. But I don't want to go yet.

  J J ^

  I look over to where the living Gabe and I are sitting at

  a picnic table talking.

  Oh, yeah. Guess I kind of forgot about them. I mean,

  us.

  I was busy paying attention to the other us.

  Gabe continues, "I think it's been with me in Everywhere

  this whole time."

  "Everywhere? What's that?" I ask, but then I suddenly

  know what he's talking about. "Oh. Everywhere. That must

  be what I call Is"

  "Yeah, Everywhere is kind of an . . . Is."

  "Yeah, except lately I've started thinking of it as Am,

  because, you know, while I'm there, I just kind of am . . .

  well, everywhere, I guess." My brain is starting to get tangled.

  "So why would mv necklace have been in Everywhere

  with you?" I ask.

  "I happened to be holding it just before . . . I mean, I

  dropped it a second before we died. I guess that counts as

  me losing it."

  We. We died. He died with me? I suspected as much, but

  hearing it is still disconcerting.

  "So how am I supposed to get back to that final moment

  of our lives? I need to have lost an object in that final

  moment in order to get back to it."

  "You did lose something. It's just not exactly an

  object."

  i l l

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Your life. You lost it there. That gives you free entry,

  my dad says. I've never tried to do it. I have the necklace

  with me in Everywhere, so I've never needed to find my lost

  life there."

  ?!?!

  Have I wasted all this time revisiting my life when all

  along I had access to finding out how I died? Just by finding

  my "life" in //?

  "And how—exactly—am I supposed to find my life in

  Is?" I ask. "I have no idea what it even looks like. Is this

  some kind of Peter Pan thing? You know.. . find your shadowy

  life and sew it back on so it can't get away again?"

  Gabe's presence is smiling all around me. "Maybe it is.

  Who knows? But I'm sure you'll figure it all out. Maybe it

  has something to do with that whole 'am' thing you were

  talking about. Try thinking something, you know, like 'I

  am my life.*"

  "It's worth a try. Will you come back to the moment of

  our death with me?" Facing this alone is terrifying. Besides,

  now that I've found Gabe again, I don't want to be without

  him for a single second. Even as I'm asking the question,

  though, I can tell from the feeling emanating off of him

  that he's going to say no.

  "My ghost will just be a distraction to you while you're

  trying to see what's happening. Besides, I've already been

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

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  QT.

  AM ROCKS ME BACK AND FORTH like a baby. I fee! ray soulbeat

  pounding against the bubble of space I inhabit here.

  I concentrate on the feeling of it, the comfort of knowing

  that the energy that is me still stretches its wings, longs to

  expand.

  / am my life, I think, and instantly something indefinable

  emerges within all the energy that is me. It's not at all

  like Peter Pan's shadow, which struggled for its freedom.

  That something is happy to be a part of me. It dances and

  jumps, filling me with a giddy tingling. We float through

  the Am of // on the way to find . . .

  04

  there, and I don't think I can bear to watch it all again.

  Remember you won't be totally without me. The living me

  will still be there."

  "And after I've seen what happened? Will you meet me

  back here?"

  "Of course."

  I realize I might just as well get on with this whole thing

  so I can come back and see Gabe again.

  And then move on with him to the After.

  "I love you," I tell Gabe.

  "I love you, too," he says.

  And then I return myself to Am.

  ,'ii

  UNCORRECTED EPROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  Hj.CP?lCaU^P«kl.i£t>ers_

  the end

  GABE AND I ARE S*I*EPPI<; out of his father's car. We're at

  Sandra's house. It's odd watching action I'd rather be feeling.

  I know—but only from a strange distance—what the

  pavement of the driveway must feel like under my feet. The

  temptation to become me is greater when there's no spirit

  Gabe or spirit Tammv to distract me.

  "This clasp is broken," the living me says to Gabe. I'm

  looking down at the "forever" necklace he gave me, trying

  to bend the clasp ring farther open so I can retit the chain

  link onto the end of it. Of course I stumble over a rock in

  the driveway. I've never been good at walking and trying to

  do something else at the same time.

  m

  Gabe reaches out and steadies me. I look up at him and

  kiss him. "Would you see if you can fix this? I don't want to

  lose it," I say, handing the necklace to him.

  Now that I'm here, I remember all this. But how did

  a simple trip co Sandra's house after school wind up being

  the final scene of my life? It doesn't make sense. I start

  trying to run through everything I remember about living

  the experience, only to discover that I'm missing important

  things as they're playing out in front of me.

  So much for trying to remember. Gabe and I are already

  halfway into the house, I have to go all Caspe r and swish

  my way through the door while it's still open.

  "What's wrong?" I'm asking Sandra. Dressed in old

  jeans an ratty sweatshirt, she's standing in front of us,

  blocking the hallway to keep us from going any farther into

  the house. Th-ere's a strange silence invading everything. A

  scary one.

  But the look on Sandra's face is even scarier. I've never

  seen anything" like it before. The living me knows that it's

  a frightening expression, but the misty me recognizes its

  depth of desperation in a way I never could have when I was

  living. There's something dying behind those green eyes.

  "What's wrong?" I ask Sandra.

  Gabe is alarmed enough at her expression that he's put

  his arm around her shoulders and is trying to lead her to

  the living room. "Go get Sandra a glass of water, why don't

  leave school your senior year. It's a great solution. Gets

 
vou away from your mom but lets you stay close enough to

  check on her."

  "Maddy, whatever. I'll talk to you about it later, okay?

  Just go right now." She stands up and leads us back toward

  the front door.

  Sandra keeps glancing over her shoulder, but the living

  me doesn't pay any attention to where Sandra's looking. I'm

  so busy trying to convince her to leave with me that I don't

  notice Airs. Simpson coming down the stairs.

  But the misty me sees her, sees the horrible expression

  on Airs. Simpson's face. She's never liked me, and the look

  on her face now tells me she's moved beyond dislike. The

  current of her hatred is an undertow, ready to pull all of us

  into the depths of a furious ocean.

  Airs. Simpson keeps moving down the stairs. Both her

  hands are behind her back. She follows us toward the door

  with frighteningly soft and purposeful steps. Her lips are

  moving, but I can't hear what she's saying because the living

  me is pleading so loudly with Sandra.

  I mist myself closer to Airs. Simpson and hear her

  mumbling, "You won't take her away from me. You won't

  take her away from me. That's what you've always wanted.

  But I won't let you do it."

  She's pulling one of her arms from behind her back. She

  has a gun in her hand. A ray of sunlight coming from the

  you?" he says to me.

  I move toward the kitchen, but Sandra starts crying.

  "No," she says. "You've got to leave, .Maddy. My mom is

  completely losing it."

  "Where's your dad?" I ask.

  "I don't know. I've been trying to reach him for a few

  hours now. He left for work this morning, but he's not there

  now, and his cell is turned off. I've just never seen my mom

  quite like this before."

  Gabe has managed to push her gently into the living

  room and has settled her onto the couch.

  "Where's your mom right now?" I ask.

  "Upstairs. Look, you guys, you need to go."

  "Is she threatening to kill herself again, Sandra? Maybe

  you should call the police if she is. I mean, we can't really

  handle that, you know?"

  "Just go, please."

  "You have to come with me, Sandra. I can't leave you

  here."

  "I can't go with you."

  "Yes, you can. And you know what? Today I came up

  with a brilliant solution to your problem. You can come live

  with us for the rest of the school year. I know mv parents

  will let you. My mom thinks you're great. And she knows

  how crazy your mom is. She won't want you to stay here.

  And she'll understand how important it is not to have to

  open front door catches the flat black side of the metal barrel.

  The reflected beam of light gleams with an incongruent

  beauty. Airs. Simpson raises her arm, pointing the gun at

  my back as I stand with Sandra bv the door.

  The gun's trigger is gold. It stands out against the

  deathly black of the rest of the gun. I've never before felt

  threatened by anything gold-colored, and yet I understand

  what is about to happen. Mv life will end.

  Airs. Simpson brings her second arm around to the

  front, using a two-handed grip on the gun. I want to shout

  at myself, tell myself to run, save my life. I don't have time

  to think about whether I should change the past. I have to

  do it. I have to save myself and Gabe.

  Only it's not that simple.

  Gabe has turned and sees Airs. Simpson. He's wearing

  an expression of utter shock, whispering, "Jesus Christ." I

  can tell what he's about to do, and I have to stop him. I can't

  seem to save us both. I don't have time to think . . . it's all

  happening so fast.

  Gabe drops the necklace and lunges at Airs. Simpson.

  She sees him coming and swings her arms around to point

  the gun at him. The only thing I have time to do is use all

  my energy to push back against the gun, to move its muzzle

  so it isn't pointing at Gabe anymore. The gun is in wild

  movement as a shot is fired. The shot whizzes toward me,

  where I'm standing next to Sandra at the door. Alive.

  !)1

  For only a fraction of a second longer.

  Everything goes blank. Dead. Even the spirit me is not

  allowed to see what happens next.

  Thank God.

  I can't bear to see the expression on Sandra's face as she

  realizes her mother has killed me.

  L ! J

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOf —HOT FOR SALE

  a f t e r the end

  I'M BACK IN AM, surrounded by all the objects that have

  taken me on so many journeys.

  Strange...

  They don't attract me at all anymore. I don't want to go

  back and see any of those scenes of my life.

  They all end the same way.

  If I changed any of the individual scenes, eventually, it

  would all end the same, wouldn't it? I could go back to the

  final scene and try again to save Gabe 3nd myself, but I'd

  only be prolonging my life. I might find out what happens

  with Kristen and the baby. Or who my friends go to prom

  with. I might even marry and have children of my own.

  i
  For only a fraction of a second longer.

  Everything goes blank. Dead. Even the spirit me is not

  allowed to see what happens next.

  Thank God.

  I can't bear to see the expression on Sandra's face as she

  realizes her mother has killed me.

  L = J

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  t e r t h e end

  I'M BACK IN AM, surrounded by all the objects that have

  taken me on so many journeys.

  Strange...

  They don't attract me at all anymore. I don't want to go

  back and see any of those scenes of my life.

  They all end the same way.

  If I changed any of the individual scenes, eventually, it

  would all end the same, wouldn't it? I could go back to the

  final scene and try again to save Gabe and myself, but I'd

  only be prolonging my life. I might find out what happens

  with Kristen and the baby. Or who my friends go to prom

  with. I might even marry and have children of my own.

  it]

  But eventually I'd have to die, wouldn't I?

  And no matter when I left, I'd always wonder about someone.

  Would it be any better to be in Tammy's situation? I

  mean, wondering whatever happened to your own children?

  I don't think I'm any better off knowing how I died than

  I was when I didn't know. Finding out is kind of deflating,

  actually. It seems like I haven't accomplished anything by

  solving this mystery.

  Except... I realize that's not quite true. Because what

  I've accomplished is understanding that mystery can be a

  good thing. There are some things it's good not to know,

  because when you don't, the Universe is full of possibilities.

  1 guess I now realize, too, t h a t , , . well, it's okay to

  die. I didn't want to die. I'm glad it's not my fault that I did,

  but what's happened has already happened. There truly is a

  time to live and a time to d
ie. Maybe all that is what I actually

  needed to know—not bow I died.

  Besides, knowing how I died has brought me pain and

  regret, too. I recognize how destroyed Sandra must feel

  about what happened, and I don't have any way to let her

  know I understand this is not her fault. I can't tell her that

  even though I'm dead, I'm fine. Not unless I want to leave

  her a note at the death scene, which would probably scare

  her half to death and make her think she's losing her sanity.

  She probably already thinks she is, anyway. No. A note

  would just be too cruel. I have to wait to stumble upon her

  .•ii

  out here in the Universe somewhere before I can have that

  conversation with her.

  In the meantime, E have to trust that somehow she'll be

  fine. Like I am.

  Now it's time to find Gabe. Even though I never saw

  what happened after Mrs. Simpson shot me, I know Gabe

  died, too, even after I tried to change things. I can sense his

  spirit in the universe me. I locate my physics homework....

  "Well?" he wants to know as soon as I arrive at the picnic

  table.

  It feels good to be back with him, but for all my newfound

  love of mystery, there are still some questions I

  wouldn't mind having the answers to. "How did it happen,"

  I ask him, "those final moments? I mean, in the original

  version? Because I tried to change how things turned out

  and now I wonder what originally happened. Erom the time

  Mrs. Simpson raised the gun, I mean."

  " I don't exactly rem ember because I changed the moment,

  too. I wanted to prevent us both from dying. I remember

  that, and I remember going back to change things. Only it

  didn't work. We still ended up dead. And when I got back

  to Everywhere, I had already lost all my memories of the

  original events. I could only remember the new ones—that

  and the tact that I'd somehow changed things. And now all I

  can remember from that final scene is what happened when

  you changed it."

  (43

  "I tried to save you but ended up killing me. Did she

  shoot you right after she killed me?"

  "Yeah. I remember that for a split second she seemed

  surprised, and then she turned on me and shot me."

  "Do you think we could ever change the outcome of

  that scene?" I ask him. "Maybe we can work together to

  do it somehow." I know, even while I'm saying it, that we

  shouldn't, but I need to hear that from Gabe.

  "I don't know. No matter what we do, we might end up