The Haunted

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The Haunted Page 20

by Jessica Verday

He laughed, and I joined him. “Of course, now I feel bad for all the people that just wanted to come visit their loved ones, but it was pretty funny at the time.”

  Caspian grew silent and studied me with a serious look on his face. “Your love for Kristen shines through when you speak about her.”

  I nodded and spread my hands wide. “She was the best.”

  “Tell me about her brother.”

  Leaning back, I looked up at the underbelly of the bridge overhead, feeling the vibrations of a passing car rumble through me. “He was her devoted big brother and she was his baby sister. Even with an eight-year age difference between them, they were super close. They had their moments, of course. But they were few and far between.”

  He leaned back too, and I glanced over at him. “It’s weird, right? I can’t imagine having a brother or sister. I mean, Kristen and I were close, but to have someone who shares your blood ?” I shook my head.

  “I always wanted a brother,” Caspian said.

  “Me too,” I admitted. “Someone to take care of the bullies and stand up for me at school. When I was younger, Mom and Dad talked once about adopting a baby. But then they just sort of dropped it. I don’t know what happened.”

  He caught my eye. “What happened to him? To Thomas?”

  Sadness filled me. Even though it had happened years ago, it was still hard to talk about. “He died of a drug overdose. Everyone thought it was accidental, but I think Kristen’s family… they knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That it might not have been accidental.” I waited a moment for that to sink in, for the heaviness of it to reverberate. “See, Kristen’s brother had an addiction to pain pills. When she was three, Thomas was holding her, and he sat her down for a minute on this table. She started to fall off, and he caught her and put her on the ground, but then he tripped over a chair leg and fell out the window.”

  Caspian cringed, and an ache went through me. It was an awful story to tell.

  “They were living in a third-floor apartment at the time, and he fell all the way to the ground. He only needed twelve stitches for the cuts on his face and hands, but he broke his back.”

  Caspian nodded once. “So that was why he had the pain pills.”

  “Yeah. He had two surgeries, but he needed more, and they couldn’t afford it at the time. So he took pills when it got to be too much to handle.

  “Poor Kristen. She always thought it was her fault. No matter how many times I tried to tell her it wasn’t, she never believed me. And whenever Thomas needed anything—a heating pad, or a new pillow—she was the first to get it for him.

  “When he died, she cried for months. Luckily, she was in the hospital for bronchitis when it happened, and she didn’t find him or anything. That would have been awful.” I shuddered. “I just tried my best to be there for her. She always went with her mom and dad to go visit his gravestone on the anniversary of his death every year, but I was never far away.”

  “I know how that is,” he whispered.

  I smiled sadly at him. “He’s buried in the town where they used to live. Out by Buffalo. They already had family plots there and couldn’t get one closer.” Another car passed overhead and the support beams of the bridge trembled.

  “You know what’s really ironic?” I whispered. “When Kristen died, people spread rumors that it was because she was into drugs. But Kristen never took anything stronger than a Tylenol. Refused to, because of what happened to her brother. Once, in eighth grade, she suffered through this terrible toothache because the dentist couldn’t squeeze her in for twenty-four hours. He prescribed her a Vicodin for the pain, but she wouldn’t take it. I sat by her side and held her hand while she cried the whole night.”

  My tears came hard, and suddenly, I couldn’t stop. I missed my best friend and I missed her brother, and I cried for both of them.

  Caspian sat there with me until my sobs died down to a slow hiccup. Then he whispered, “I’d hold your hand right now if I could.”

  His eyes were so wide and earnest that I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Thanks,” I said, trying to hold back more tears. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A REVELATION

  In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering.

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  W hen I got home from work on Monday evening, I was tired and moody and sore. Every time I moved my arm or flexed my hand, it hurt. I seriously needed to talk to Uncle Bob about dialing back the settings on his coolers. Soft ice cream would be much easier to scoop.

  I dropped my phone on the desk and turned toward the bed. A piece of notebook paper was resting there, held in place by a violet—like the ones that grew wild in the cemetery. I picked it up and stroked the soft purple petals of the flower.

  As I unfolded the note, a four-leaf clover fell out and dropped to the floor. I left it there for a minute as I scanned the words in front of me.

  Abigail Astrid,

  I hope your day scooping ice cream and making children of all ages deliriously happy went well. May I request the pleasure of your company at Kristen’s spot tomorrow morning, 7 a.m.? Until then, I’ll see you under the stars.

  —Caspian

  P.S. I hope you don’t mind another four-leaf clover. For some reason, they keep finding me.

  There were drawings of stars and leaves covering the back side of the paper, and I smiled to myself, holding it close to my heart. I bent down to pick up the clover and placed it on the desk next to the flower. I’m going to have to start pressing these to put in a scrapbook if he keeps giving them to me.…

  I fell asleep early that night, and slept deeply. When my alarm went off at six forty-five the next morning, I had to drag myself out of bed, and I hoped that a shower would help wake me up.

  I was still pretty sleepy as I walked to the cemetery, but the closer I got, the more my excitement grew. What did he have planned? My stomach was in knots, and I tried to tell myself to calm down. It wasn’t like he was proposing.…

  Oh God.

  I came to a screeching halt. That was ridiculous. He’s not… I’m only… I shook my head to clear my thoughts and pushed that idea firmly from my mind. It was ridiculous. And I wasn’t going to think about it.

  Forcing myself to act cool and collected, I strode through the gates and made my way to Kristen’s grave. Caspian was standing next to her stone, holding something in his hands.

  “Ah, Abbey.” His face lit up. “I see you got my note.”

  “You’re starting to haunt my bedroom,” I teased.

  “All I did was leave the note,” he said. “I swear. That’s it.”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “Maybe I stopped for a second to check out the stars,” he admitted. “On my way out, of course.”

  I grinned at him, then looked around me. “Why are we here so early? And what are you holding?”

  Caspian glanced down and held out a piece of cake wrapped in saran wrap, with a twenty-five-cent sticker on it. He pulled up a corner of the plastic, and a nutty smell wafted out. The cake was an orange, crumbly mess. “Sorry. It’s carrot. I know, not the best, but it’s all they had.”

  He produced two candles from his pocket and stuck them in the cake. “We’ll have to pretend they’re lit; I forgot my lighter. But, ta-da!”

  I was still lost. “Seven a.m. with carrot cake and candles… And this means what?”

  “I picked seven a.m. because I figured there would be less people around,” he said. “And the cake is for Kristen and Thomas. We’re going to celebrate their birthdays.”

  Surprise hit me first, and then an aching sweetness. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. But how… ? “Where did you get the cake? And the candles?”

  “I nicked the candles from a kid’s birthday party yesterday. They’d already blown out the ones on the cake,” he said. “Th
ese were just extra.” He ducked his head and looked up at me like he was waiting for me to criticize him.

  Maybe I should have, but personally, I thought it was a really sweet gesture.

  I smiled and he continued. “The cake I got at a yard sale. Found a quarter on the ground and did a switch.”

  “You could have taken a quarter from Washington Irving’s grave,” I suggested. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded.”

  Caspian looked affronted. “But they’re his. That would be stealing from the dead.”

  Well, when he put it that way…

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the best? Because you are.” My eyes grew misty, and it was hard to see, but I didn’t cry.

  Caspian started to sing softly. “Happy birthday to you…” I joined him with a shaky voice, and we sang together. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Thomas and Kristen… Happy birthday to you.”

  “Blow out the candles,” Caspian whispered to me. I peeked over at him, feeling a little silly, but blew anyway.

  I closed my eyes, a sense of calm coming over me. “You just won so many brownie points,” I said, opening my eyes and looking straight at him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  His eyes were shining, and his face looked happy. “It’s not over yet. Bring the cake and follow me.”

  “What?”

  But he didn’t answer. Just gestured for me to go with him. I started to follow, and then stopped. Breaking off two small pieces of cake, I left them near the tombstone. “Happy belated birthday, Kristen and Thomas,” I said. “Enjoy.”

  Then I turned back and followed him to his mausoleum. He made me close my eyes as soon as we entered and directed me with his voice so that I wouldn’t fall. I bumped into something hard, and I put out a hand, feeling smooth marble under my fingertips.

  “Okay,” Caspian said. “Now on the count of three, open. One… Two… Three!”

  I steadied myself and opened my eyes. The sight that greeted me was magnificent. And hysterical.

  Rows of pink curly streamers crisscrossed the open room, hanging from unlit candles. A SpongeBob SquarePants “Happy Birthday” banner covered one wall, and Caspian was wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles party hat tilted at an angle.

  My jaw dropped open. “You decorated, too?”

  He looked pleased. “Did a little shopping at the Salvation Army yesterday. I took back my suit and left it there in exchange for a couple of items. How soon am I going to need it again?” He handed me a party hat. “I saved Spider-Man for you. Sorry there wasn’t more girly stuff.”

  I put the hat on and looked around me. “This is unreal, Caspian.”

  He shrugged. “Dead guys have to work harder to impress girls.”

  “You certainly impressed this girl.”

  Caspian grinned wickedly. “Hmm, so if the cake and candles got me brownie points, what does this earn me?”

  “Stick around until your death day, and you might just find out. I’ll show you my thanks very, very slowly.” I blushed as soon as I heard those words leave my mouth. When had I become such a tease?

  Caspian swallowed and looked around him. “Is it hot in here? I think it’s warm in here.”

  “You can’t feel anything unless I’m next to you.”

  “True, but words like that can make anyone overheat.”

  Blushing again, I turned from him and changed the subject. “Do you think they’ll mind?” I waved a hand to show I was talking about the occupants of the drawers that lined the mausoleum walls.

  “Nah. Who doesn’t like a party?” He looked down. “Although I feel like I should be wearing something nicer than this old T-shirt.”

  He was wearing a gray shirt with a faded red Aerosmith logo.

  “I like it,” I protested. “In fact, I just realized that you change.” That came out wrong. “Er, I mean, you…”

  “Change my clothes?” He looked at me, and I nodded. “At first it was just habit. I don’t need to. No sweat or anything. But it felt too weird to stay in the same clothes for weeks at a time. Even for a guy. And then I met you, and I was trying to act normal, so…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t always easy to remember to wear something different each time we met. Luckily, I had my stash here.”

  I put the cake I was still holding down on the marble slab next to me. “I still can’t believe you did all this, Caspian. Are you trying to sweep me off my feet?”

  His face turned serious. “I’d like to sweep you off your feet, but the best I can do is ask you to dance with me. Will you?”

  He held out a hand, and I suddenly felt nervous. Licking dry lips, I put my hand up next to his and whispered, “Okay.” Assuming the position of a proper dancing partner, I held my arm up high, like I would be grasping his hand, and put my other arm around what would have been his waist.

  He did the same, and I felt that dull tingle everywhere we would have been touching.

  “In my head I’m hearing that Aerosmith song from Armageddon, and we’re dancing to it,” he said. Then he murmured softly, ‘I don’t want to close my eyes.… I don’t want to fall asleep.… Cuz I’ll miss you, babe…’”

  Moving in small circles, we mimicked two slow-dancers at a prom. Caspian’s voice echoed around us, bouncing off the walls of the dead. “‘And I don’t wanna miss a thing.…’”

  We came to a halt, eyes locked. Desire, sadness, anger, and fear crashed through me. Like waves pounding on the beach, a violent storm that left nothing behind in its wake. Nothing but black emptiness. And I knew right then and there that, one day, that void would be me. I was the black nothing.

  I tilted my face up, gazing at him, and made a secret wish. But it was a wish that would never come true.

  Caspian couldn’t come back from the dead.

  I got home late that afternoon, and my eyes were red and teary. A crying jag had overwhelmed me on the way out of the cemetery, and I’d broken down. I’d stopped several times because I couldn’t see where I was going.

  Although Caspian and I had spent the rest of our time together talking and even laughing, I couldn’t shake the heaviness that felt like it was chained around my heart. A constant shackle that tightened and bruised with every breath I took. A warning that one day I was going to be shattered.

  I didn’t know how much I could take. How much I could stand before I broke again…

  A quick nap after lunch helped soothe my mood, and I woke up, determined again, to make it work. I loved Caspian, and that was all that mattered. If Nikolas and Katy could make it work, then so could we.

  My phone rang, but I didn’t answer it in time, and the voice mail icon flashed, signaling that I had a message. I dialed it to listen.

  “Abbey, this is Ben. Call me when you get this, okay?” He sounded upset.

  I slapped myself on the forehead. Today was Tuesday. I’d totally bailed on our science session. Hitting the button to call him back, I prepared my excuse.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Abbey?”

  “Ben, hey. I just got your message, I’m—”

  “I came over, but you didn’t answer the door. I called you like three times, and you never picked up.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I was out and I left my phone here.” I felt terrible. “I’m really sorry; it won’t happen again.”

  He made a frustrated sound. “Do you want me to keep tutoring you? You’ve been really distracted lately. Is something wrong?”

  No, nothing. I’m just dealing with the fact that my boyfriend is dead.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  I coughed and cleared my throat. Had I said that out loud? “Nothing, it’s just… my parents. They’re really on me about acing this science exam, and I’m nervous about it.…” I crossed my fingers behind my back. “Look, I’m really, really sorry, Ben. Let me make it up to you. Come over, and I’ll order a pizza.”

  “Everything on it?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I’ll be there in twen
ty minutes,” he said.

  I hung up the phone, hoping that I’d made everything better with Ben. He really was a great guy.

  After I ordered the pizza, I went downstairs to wait. Ben arrived with a big grin and a DVD in one hand. “Movie night.”

  The pizza guy showed up right behind him, and I paid for the pizza, then ushered Ben inside. “What are we watching?”

  “Star Trek.”

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway, waiting for the punch line. It didn’t come. “No, really, Ben. What movie did you bring?”

  “Star Trek,” he said. “Consider it your way of making it up to me.”

  I groaned and led the way into the kitchen, setting the pizza box on the table. “You’re really going to milk this, aren’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, fine. I deserve it.”

  “It’s a good movie. Captain Picard meets his clone, and there’s a huge explosion…”

  He talked on and on. I could already feel my brain dying from boredom. But I nodded at all the appropriate times as Ben gave me the rundown on Worf and Troi and Shin-something. And then there was a robot.

  “Uh-huh,” I said, gathering plates and napkins and cups as he went on. I interrupted: “Grab some sodas from the fridge.”

  He picked out two cans of Coke and kept talking. I laid everything I had on top of the pizza box, then picked it up and headed to the living room. Ben followed me.

  “DVD player is there,” I said, pointing, and he put the movie in. Settling down on the floor, I found the remote and pushed play. “Okay,” I said to Ben. “Eat pizza now; talk more after the movie.”

  He promptly grabbed two slices and started in on them. Music blared from the TV, and I leaned back, preparing for two hours of geekdom.

  As the end credits rolled, Ben explained everything that I didn’t understand, which was… a lot.

  “But why couldn’t they just build another robot?” I asked. “They had an extra one.”

  “Because Data was a specially designed artificial life form,” he said. “One of a kind.”

  “But his brother, or whatever, was there.…”

  “Yeah, well that’s kind of their way of saying that Data’s not really gone.”

 

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