Out of Reach

by Carrie Arcos

  “The longer it went on, the deeper Micah got, the more I wanted it all to go away. It got to where I couldn’t sleep because I was so stressed.” My voice flickered like one of the candles. “I started to wish that he would just disappear, so I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. When he first left, I was relieved, but then . . .” The weight of the guilt that I had carried since Micah disappeared made it hard for me to continue.

  “It’s not your fault. This thing with Micah, all of it has been his choosing.”

  “I know, but—”

  He cut me off. “Listen, Micah was like a brother to me, at least what I imagine a brother to be. We fought, yet I always knew he had my back. He’s the one who left. You didn’t push him away. I love him too, but he has to be the one to decide when he’s had enough. Your guilt isn’t going to bring him back any sooner.”

  “I . . .” I tried to speak, but I felt tears welling in my eyes. “It’s just . . . his room is like this open tomb back there, and my parents . . . they can’t handle it. They hardly talk anymore, to me, to each other. I’m still their daughter, but I might as well have left too. It’s like I meant nothing to Micah. It’s always silent, and sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.” I was crying now. “I thought that if I could find Micah, I could fix everything. That we could go back to the way things used to be. I could find some sense of normal.”

  Tyler stood up and walked to the back of the room.

  Great, I thought. Now I’ve upset him. Maybe he can’t handle a girl crying, and he’ll leave too.

  He reappeared beside me. “Here.” He handed me a couple of tissues. “There’s a bathroom back there.”

  “Thank you.” I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. I looked around the candlelit room. “Do you ever pray?”

  The question seemed to catch him off guard. “Sometimes, I guess.”

  “I don’t really know any prayers,” I said.

  Tyler picked up one of the books on the bench. “Here’s a whole bunch.” He flipped through, then closed it. “Probably not what you’re looking for.” He put the book back down. “When my dad was going through his program, working his steps, he prayed. He said he started talking to the Big Guy. Maybe you should just say what you need to say.”

  As if to help me get started, Tyler sat back on the bench and closed his eyes.

  I closed my eyes and thought of the name I used when I was a kid. “So, Frank . . . I’m angry. No, I’m pissed off. I came all the way down here to San Diego. I lied to my parents. My car got stolen. Some crazy drug dealer could have killed us. But I thought that we’d find Micah, like you’d help me or something. Instead, this has all been one big waste of time.” I stopped speaking and counted to six to calm myself before I began again. “Is all of this worth it? What’s the point?”

  I opened my eyes and looked at the large Jesus, at His tormented face, His contorted body. Why was He always hanging on a cross? Why didn’t they ever take Him off the damn thing? What kind of people came to this place week after week to stare at Him like that? Were they sadists? Did it make them feel better to see His suffering? Kind of like when I got a little happy when I heard that someone else was having a worse day than I was?

  I couldn’t see the color of the statue’s eyes from where I sat, but I pictured Micah’s eyes, my eyes—a deep reddish brown. The blood from Jesus’s hands flowed, joining the wound in His side and continuing down His legs. So much blood. Micah was killing himself and there was nothing I could do. I just wanted to know why.

  Jesus hung there, staring at me in all His agony, and I suddenly understood something: Everyone suffered. Micah took drugs. I had chosen the wrong guy. Tyler kept secrets. A dealer got beaten to a pulp. But it was more than that. Sometimes we had to walk through the pain alone. I looked back at a picture on the wall, the one where a bystander helped Jesus carry the cross. Sometimes we had others to help us along the way.

  I remembered the prayer from Micah’s rehab group. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

  “Amen,” Tyler said.

  “Amen.”

  I lay down on the bench. I didn’t want to think or talk anymore. I just needed sleep. But another thought came to mind.

  “What am I going to tell my parents about the car?”

  “The truth is usually less complicated.” Tyler got up and started blowing out the candles.

  When he was finished, I think he came back to where I was lying. I was almost asleep.

  “I never made my last confession,” he said softly.

  “Hmm? You can tell me in the morning,” I mumbled.

  “Technically, it is morning.” He paused. “Keith was a bastard who never realized the gift he’d been given.”

  I didn’t say anything, because it was true and I was ready to let that one go. I fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  My muscles were sore when I woke. I should have known that the pew bench, if not comfortable to sit on, would definitely not be the best substitute for a bed. The hazy morning light told me that it was still early. Red choir robes covered me. I smiled. Tyler must have got them. The last thing I remembered was talking with Tyler. Where was he?

  I looked around and found him in the row behind me, stretched out on his back, looking more comfortable than I was. The brim of his cap was pulled down low over his face, covering everything except his chin.

  I reached over and gave him a push. He grunted. I pushed him again.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m up.” In one motion, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He ran his fingers through his black hair. He noticed me watching him. “Don’t you look lovely in the morning?”

  “Save it,” I said. “I’m going to the bathroom. We’d better leave before someone comes.”

  In the bathroom mirror, I grimaced at my bed head. Using my fingers as a comb, I tried to tame my hair, but that didn’t really work. I pulled it into a ponytail and went to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face and pinched my cheeks. Instant blush. At least I looked clean and healthy. Not bad for being out all night.

  Tyler was at the door when I exited.

  “My turn,” he said.

  I stepped aside for him to pass, and I felt a little awkward. It felt intimate spending the night together, but not spending the night together. Something had changed between us. It wasn’t anything I could say for certain, just a sense of a new beginning.

  “Excuse me,” I said, flustered.

  He smiled, and this time I didn’t fight the disarming effect.

  I turned back toward the main room of the church. Gone was the somber and medieval vibe. Sunlight streaked through the stained glass windows. I walked to the center of the room and held my hand up to touch one of the beams, almost expecting it to burn right through my palm. I like mornings because each day is like another chance.

  I fixated on a large window near the front. I hadn’t noticed it in the dark, but in the light of day it stood out from the other mosaics. It was a picture of Jesus rising in the air. A halo of light encircled His head. People knelt in front of Him. He looked calm and peaceful. He wasn’t suffering anymore. I glanced up at the hanging Jesus and smiled, knowing that He would eventually make it through.

  “You ready?” Tyler asked from behind me.

  I stood with the sunlight on my fingertips for a few moments more. “Yeah.”

  * * *

  Holding a package of small, plain cake doughnuts under my arm, with my free hand, I opened the store’s refrigerator door to get something to drink. I pulled out some kind of vitamin drink, but the ingredients revealed that it was just as sugary as soda. I put it back. It didn’t really matter because of the doughnuts, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I had already blown my soda boycott at lunch with Tyler. I chose a nondescript bottle of water instead.

  Tyler was busy using one of the coffee tumblers on the other side of the store. I had learned that he to
ok his coffee black. He seemed more of a man for it. He turned and caught my eye from across the way and mouthed did I want one. I shook my head.

  The man sitting at the register watched the news on a tiny TV that hung in the corner. Apparently the traffic was already mounting up, and the day would be another warm one. Some chef would be on soon to explain how to cook the best barbeque chicken. Outside, a couple of cars were at the pumps getting gas, but we were the only people in the store.

  Tyler approached me with his large coffee.

  “I figured you for more of a powdered girl.” He pointed to the doughnuts.

  “Nope. Plain or glazed.”

  “Note taken.”

  I lowered my head, but smiled because it felt good that Tyler was taking notes on things that I liked.

  “Of course, there’s always Cheetos and CornNuts.” He gestured to the next aisle of snacks.

  I didn’t know anyone who bought CornNuts, but there must have been people out there who were CornNut people. Why else would they stock the shelves with it?

  “If you get the CornNuts, I will definitely not be riding back with you. CornNut breath is the worst.”

  “I’m starving. I need something more than doughnuts. Throw in two HotPockets.”

  I put two ham and cheese HotPockets into the microwave. The plan was to make our way back to the bus stop and take the next bus to a train station. From there, I knew that Tyler could probably get ahold of a friend at a pay phone. And I could get in touch with Michelle or someone else. Between the two of us, we had enough connections to find someone who could come and get us without having to call my parents. But neither of us said anything. I followed Tyler’s lead. So far he hadn’t let me down.

  We placed our loot on the counter by the register. The door opened. In the large mirror above the cashier, I saw two figures enter. As they moved, their bodies stretched in the reflection, becoming distorted and twisted like at a carnival fun house. I could tell they were men by their frames. For a second, I held my breath, as hope again reared its head.

  I turned around slowly to get a better look at them. They both wore black hoodies. The one who wasn’t wearing his hood up had brown hair and was about the same size as Micah. He looked right at me, and I couldn’t stop the disappointment. He stared past me, and I quickly turned away. I released my breath slowly.

  “You all right?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, just tired.”

  I wondered if it would always be this way. If every time I heard a door open, I’d turn and look with both hope and fear. If I’d have that sinking feeling in my chest when it wasn’t Micah. I wondered if there’d ever be a time when the sound of an opening door would be nothing more than that. Is that what it meant to move on, to let go?

  Tyler gave the cashier his credit card. Thank goodness for that. He smiled and was about to say something, but I said it first.

  “I know, only-child benefits.”

  I grabbed the bag of our “breakfast.” We walked out into the morning sun. I stopped. I closed my eyes and lifted my face upward. My whole body flooded with warmth.

  “Can you feel that?” I asked Tyler.

  “What?” He stood in the shade of the store’s sign.

  “Here.” I pulled him close so he could stand in the same spot as me. He was still and didn’t say anything. I felt additional warmth with him so close.

  Over at the pumps, a driver stood next to her blue SUV and talked on her cell phone. Another car stood alone at the pump. I could only see the rear because the rest of it was hidden behind the pump. It was small, nondescript, probably a Honda or Toyota. A spark of sunlight reflected off the black bumper.

  A strange feeling came over me, making me want to get a better look. I crept closer. I was right. It was a Honda Civic, and there was a dent in the rear bumper. It was there when I bought the car. I knew that I’d find another dent on the left side. That one happened in a Vons parking lot. The culprit hadn’t even left a note. I looked all around to see if anyone was watching, and then I remembered the guys in the store and got scared. A short brick wall separated the water and air tire service from the pumps. I ran and ducked behind it.

  “Are you crazy?” Tyler asked me as he jogged after me and squatted down, almost spilling his coffee.

  “That’s my car!” My eyes were wide with shock.

  “What?” Tyler peered at the car. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  Tyler looked again. “Looks like your car.”

  “I know it’s my car.” I said the words with a bit more of a bite than I had intended.

  “Okay. It’s your car.” He looked toward the store. “Those guys in there must be with it.”

  “What are we gonna do?” I asked.

  “Let me think for a second.”

  “We’ve got to call the cops or something.”

  He shook his head. “No time.”

  “There’s a pay phone,” I said, pointing to the black box standing close to the store’s entrance.

  “By the time we get ahold of the police, your car will be long gone.”

  I looked toward the convenience store. I could see only one of the men. He stood in front of the glass refrigerator doors. Suddenly I remembered something. “Or, we could use this.” I fished in my backpack and removed my keys.

  Tyler looked at me with surprise. “The key?”

  I nodded.

  He smiled wide.

  “What if they have a gun or a knife or something?” I said.

  “Maybe. Look, this could be our only chance. I’ll creep over and start the car. You head over to the intersection, and I’ll pick you up at the light and we’ll get the hell out of here.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  “I won’t.” He sounded too confident.

  “I think I should do it,” I said.

  “No way! Too dangerous.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes at Tyler, but he was only trying to protect me. “Sometimes you have to fiddle with the ignition to start it. I know how to do it. You’ve never driven it.”

  He squinted at me, probably trying to decide if he should listen.

  “If you can’t start it right away, bail.”

  “Agreed. Can you still see them?”

  Tyler looked back at the store. “Yeah, they’re at the register. Give me that.” He took my backpack and the bag of food. “If you’re gonna do it, go now. I’ll meet you at the corner.” He stood up and moved quickly toward the street.

  I sneaked slowly along the asphalt toward my car, keeping low to the ground. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I refused to look back at the store. It was better if I didn’t see what could be coming.

  Reaching the driver’s side, I touched the familiar handle and pulled. The door was impossible to open from my crouching position. I had to stand up. I froze, literally paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t move. This was the moment they might see me. My voice inside my head yelled to move, but I remained still.

  I tried to focus. One. Two. Three. I counted. Please God.

  Through the window I could see the car had been cleaned really well on the inside. All of my junk had been taken out of the backseat. Four. Five. The only clutter now was a pack of cigarettes on the front passenger seat. Six. Please God. Seven. I felt my body begin to relax. I stood up. My hand pulled on the lever and opened the door. I got inside.

  Something was wrong. The seat. It was pushed back farther than I normally had it. I felt violated, but I didn’t have time to adjust the seat. I put the key in the ignition, jiggled it right, then left, then right again. The car started.

  The store door opened, and I saw the men walking in my direction. I freaked out. I stepped on the gas pedal and floored it. The tires squealed and something ripped and popped behind me. I had forgotten to unhook the gas pump.

  The other woman at the pump screamed. The men started running toward me. I swerved out of their way, and the car bottomed out as it hit the street.r />
  “Sorry!” I shouted to the car.

  Tyler waved his free hand from the corner. I pulled up and slammed on my brakes. As soon as Tyler’s body was in the car, I accelerated again. He pulled the door shut. I didn’t know how close the guys were behind me, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  The light had just turned red, but I braced myself and sped through it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sign that said to turn right for the freeway ramp, and I took it like a speeding demon.

  “Jesus, Rachel, you can slow down!” yelled Tyler.

  A car honked as I almost sideswiped it. Entering and exiting the freeway were still weak spots in my driving.

  “Okay, okay. I’m calming down. I’m calming down.” But my hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were drained of color.

  “You’re going to kill us long before those guys get a chance,” Tyler said, though he didn’t sound upset. He burst out laughing. “You’re crazy. You drove up so fast, I thought you were going to jump the curb and hit me. I had to ditch the coffee. You should have seen your face.” He made some wild maniac face as he tried to imitate me.

  “Oh yeah? Well, you didn’t look too calm yourself.”

  Tyler made the face again, and I started to laugh. It was light at first, a kind of laugh to ease the nervous tension. It began to build when I thought about how insane it was that I’d stolen back my car. I laughed thinking about what those guys must have thought at the station. They were probably so pissed.

  I laughed deeper and my whole body began to shake. I leaned over the steering wheel and my gut started to hurt. I couldn’t stop. Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.

  “Stop it!” I said, as if it were Tyler’s fault. He continued to laugh with me. It felt so good to laugh.

  When we were kids, Micah and I would play a game where we’d do silly things to try and make the other person laugh. I always lost because Micah had no problem going to the extreme. He would take a straw and make the milk come out of his nose. Or he would make all of these weird and disgusting sounds with his body. Sometimes he’d get up and do the booty dance and shake his tush in the air and make some silly face until we were both on the floor laughing.