Dying To Forget (The Station)

by Trish Marie Dawson

  I think he's tired, tired of his job. I don't know how long he's been here. But right now doesn't seem like the appropriate time to ask about it.

  “So, there is one thing I wanted to ask you…” he smiles and laughs a little, “…what gave you the idea to use yourself as a fire alarm to wake your Assignment? Because that, my dear, was brilliant.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Niles listens to me with great interest as I recap the last two months with Sloan. Sometimes he laughs, sometimes he seems solemn and lost in thought, but when I’m done he appears to be very pleased with the outcome of my first case. I’m looking for Kerry-Anne’s yellow sundress as we slowly approach the fountain, having just left the Ones Building. There were fewer children inside playing than before but it’s still nice to watch them. I really wish I knew where they moved on to. The sounds of their laughs are infectious and I love that Niles brings me there when we talk.

  “There’s your friend, are you meeting her?” Niles gestures to our right where Kerry-Anne sits alone, twirling the hem of her sundress in between her fingers.

  “We were going to talk before heading back to the Consignment Building. I wish we could take longer breaks before being assigned a new case.”

  I stick my lower lip out in a pout and I am so thankful I have my face to make these expressions. The worst part of being a Volunteer is being trapped in someone else’s mind without your own body. It's impossible for me to express my emotions with just my mind.

  “You can go to Training.” Nile says with a smile.

  “Right, cause that’s a break.” We both laugh.

  “Piper!”

  I hear Kerry-Anne’s shy voice an octave higher than usual and glance over my shoulder to wave at her. She seems excited, no doubt ready to share details about our Assignments. We aren’t allowed to share names or specifics – that would be a confidentiality violation.

  I hug Niles goodbye and watch him walk into the Admissions Department. When I get close enough for physical contact, Kerry-Anne launches herself at me and wraps her thin arms around my back, squeezing me to her. This sort of physical contact is unusual from her. It makes me curious to find out what has her in such a good mood as I usher her toward the fountain rim to sit.

  “Spill!”

  It’s all I have to say to give her permission to speak first. She is beaming while she talks. Her brown eyes are aglow with life and I watch with fascination as her glossy black hair brushes her shoulders as if it’s alive when she moves her head up, down and side to side.

  My dirty-blonde hair has always been a little too dry and completely unreasonable in any sort of weather. The slightest rise in humidity would make the baby curls around my hairline pop up, causing a rather unsightly curly-halo effect around my face. Beach days were the worst. My hair would end up tangled and looking stringy everywhere but around my temples and forehead, where every short hair would be standing at frizzy attention by the end of the day. But the streak-blonde color I got by the end of summer made all the bad-hair days completely worth it.

  I doubted Kerry-Anne ever had bad hair days. I try imagining her with frizzed out curls around her face and it makes me giggle softly. I stifle it before she hears me by coughing into my hand. There's no need for coughing at the Station since no one can get sick, but it works…she continues on with her story about her first Assignment. She was fifteen, two months younger than Kerry-Anne and from what it sounds like…they were a perfect match.

  “She was just great! I’m so happy she’s better now, you know? But my second Assignment, oh my gosh, she was a handful. She-” I raise my hand in surprise and Kerry-Anne stops talking mid-sentence.

  “Wait, your second Assignment? How many have you been on?”

  “I’ve only been on two. It goes by so slow in the real world, not like the time here. How many have you had?” She asks.

  “I was pulled back during my first,” I glower.

  I’m still upset that I was ripped away from Sloan before he was ready…before I was ready. Kerry-Anne reaches her hand out and pats my knee affectionately. I’ve started to see her as the little sister I never had, except of course minus all the drama of actually having a younger sibling.

  “I’m so sorry. First Assignments are very special.” She looks down at her sandaled feet.

  “It’s okay. Actually, I think he’s going to be fine.”

  I hope that’s true.

  “He?”

  Kerry-Anne balks at me. Her thin, red lips form a perfect circle as she stares at me with her mouth wide open, her large and round eyes unblinking.

  “Oh yeah, he was a he all right. And sort of gorgeous.” I laugh because Kerry-Anne looks mortified.

  “Was there a problem with your match?” She almost whispers the question, as if she is afraid of someone hearing us. The only people around are a few passerby’s moving in between buildings. For this rare moment in time, we have the fountain to ourselves.

  “Actually Niles told me that it happens but he said it’s rare for your first case. I guess the older Volunteers typically get matched with the opposite sex more often.”

  “What does that mean then, that you were matched to a guy?” She asks nervously.

  I shrug. “Who knows, maybe I’m special.” I wink at her, which lightens her mood back to what it was before and we begin comparing notes about our cases again. And of course I know what Kerry-Anne's first question about Sloan will be just before she asks it.

  "What were the showers like?"

  ***

  I hang around the fountain for what seems like decades, waiting for the crowds to clear out of the Station. I imagine some if not most of the Volunteers will go back on assignment right away. But the Consignment building is packed and there is such a constant state of motion through the front door that I decide to just sit back and wait a little while longer. Kerry-Anne hung out with me at first until Mallory showed up. I could tell Kerry-Anne was anxious for her next case, so I hugged her and wished her well before she headed off toward the Station’s busiest building to wait in line with the others for her next case.

  “How are you?” Mallory asks me.

  “I’m okay, still a bit upset I guess about being brought back early.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she says.

  I stretch out along the rim of the fountain so I’m on my stomach and I love the feeling of the cool tile on my bare legs and arms. After dipping my fingers into the fountain and swirling the crystal clear water around into a mini-whirlpool, Mallory rolls onto her stomach and gently plunges her hand into the water next to mine. Her head is just inches away and I can smell grapefruit again.

  “Mallory?” I ask.

  “Hmm?”

  “Why does our hair smell like grapefruit?”

  Mallory pushes up onto her elbows and then her upper body shakes with laughter. When she’s done she wipes a few tears from her eyes before she answers. “Oh wow, I haven’t laughed like that in too long. I really don’t know, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wondered the same thing.”

  She grins at me and I resume my hand twirling in the cold water. She’s still giggling when she lies back down.

  “You two look quite comfortable. Almost as if you’re on vacation, or something.”

  We both look up to see Carlson Smith standing over us. For a moment I don’t remember him, but then I see the metal clipboard in his hand and I vaguely recall meeting him just after my arrival. He called Niles ‘Abbott’. I’m surprised again by how thin he is. Each bone in his body is visible beneath his worn shirt but his eyes are full of life. He looks briefly at me before his gaze settles on Mallory and he begins to fidget with the pocket of his flannel pajama pants. He seems nervous around her and no wonder…Mallory is a very beautiful girl. All curves, legs and blonde hair. I imagine it’s impossible for her to go unnoticed by any of the men at the Station.

  She smiles weakly at Carlson before pushing up onto her knees, taking care to tuck her skirt around her legs
discreetly. Once she’s upright, his trance breaks and he looks back at me once more. I notice with a slight pang of jealousy that he doesn’t look at me the way he looks at Mallory. In fact, no one at the Station does.

  Figures. I’m undesirable in the after-life too. Oh, well.

  Carlson clears his throat, “Piper, Niles is looking for you. I’m on my way to the gate…another New Arrival, so I told him I’d let you know,” he pauses to look at Mallory once again as if he’s afraid he’s been caught in a lie. “If I saw you, of course.”

  Of course.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  We watch Carlson scurry off to the gate and Mallory sighs deeply as he passes through the rusted metal in a rush and disappears into the white nothingness beyond it.

  “I always feel bad when someone else arrives,” she says.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  ***

  “This time will be different, I promise. You’ll be there till the end and you’ll feel better when you get back.”

  “Good luck,” I say softly.

  Mallory leans in to hug me before she walks down the hall with a new ink-colored glass Assignment card. I watch as she picks the door that leads into the Depot room and turn to see Niles grinning at me.

  “What?”

  “It’s wonderful to see the two of you getting on this well. I was a bit worried, dear, after that initial meeting.” He smiles. Gentle, as always.

  “She’s a nice girl. I can see why she was chosen as my Volunteer. But don’t get too excited, we aren’t BFF’s just yet,” I reply with a wink.

  “BFF’s? What is that?”

  It’s my turn to giggle. “Best Friends Forever.”

  “Ah, the young…always so eager to shorten the English language.”

  “Yep.”

  I smile at him as I search for my name on the giant volunteer billboard. Nothing yet. I finger the glass disk that is hanging around my neck, remembering the first time it went off, how I thought my chest was on fire. The memory seems so long ago, but it’s impossible to tell time in the Station; there are no days, no nights and no clocks. I can’t tell if I’ve been here for five minutes or five years.

  If I had died with a watch on, would it work here?

  “Piper.” Niles distracts me from my mental wandering. “They’re ready for you.”

  I look down to see the glass light up inside my palm.

  It’s time again.

  CHAPTER 17

  I try to remain calm this time as the pinching starts at my feet and slowly works its way up my body but it feels too much like crawling ants that I attempt to rub the sensation off my skin anyway. Niles told me that this part of the transition feels a little different for each Volunteer. Some have described it as a tickle, others as hot pokers being jammed into their skin. I guess I’m somewhere in between and should feel relieved but I can’t not imagine thousands of tiny bugs scampering up my body and pinching me. The thought sends me near the edge of panic once again.

  Just when I’m ready to scream, it stops. I am expecting darkness, like when I first arrived on Sloan’s case. But my new Assignment isn’t asleep; she’s awake and walking somewhere. The light that floods in around me is at first disorienting and I struggle to focus on the images that pass by us in a flash. A door with a window that takes up the top half flies by on our right. A row of metal lockers fly by on our left. And there are people…kids - everywhere. We are in some sort of hallway. Doors, lockers, teenagers. Great. This is a school.

  Unlike Sloan, this Assignment does not guard her emotions (and I know it’s a girl, because her mental female imprint is so strong and nothing like Sloan) and they flood through me in a frenzied, unbalanced way that at first I can’t process one single thought. It’s like picking through a pile of hay for a needle…except in this mind, the pile of hay is more like the size of a football field and I’m looking for one particular blade of grass.

  I imagine I’m in a car and that I am slamming my foot down on the brake.

  Stop! I scream loudly.

  And she does, long enough to lean against a wall and pick at the edge of her math textbook. She looks around the hallway hesitantly and I’m overwhelmed with a feeling I haven’t experienced so fiercely since Bree went flying through my windshield. Fear. She’s afraid. So much so that her body is trembling and her mind is scattered like dried up maple leaves on a windy autumn day being blown along an empty street.

  Okay. Let’s calm down. I speak to her gently, knowing if I yell again, I might very well send her fragile mental state running to the hills.

  Take a deep breath, inhale…exhale.

  She immediately complies, surprisingly, and I feel oxygen rush through her body, lowering her heart rate just a tad. Based on the height of the others that pass by us, I’m assuming she’s small. The kids are definitely high-school aged and not one stops to smile or say hi.

  I pick through her mind trying to find the source of her fear, but instead of locating it in the tangled, manic mess of her memories, it’s suddenly staring us in the face. I feel my Assignment shrink against the wall like a trapped rabbit as her heart-rate skyrockets. A click of wannabe Kardashian sisters has strolled up to us, intentionally surrounding my poor Assignment, trapping her against the cold plaster wall. I know this is the source of her fear and I hate these girls instantly.

  “Hey, Goggles,” the tallest girl says. “When’d you get the new hardware?” She reaches toward my Assignment and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, painfully smashing them into her face.

  What the hell!

  “Um.” My Assignment is pressing herself hard into the wall, with nowhere to run.

  “Ivy, let’s go,” says one of the girls with a flip of her long, dark hair over her shoulder, “Mr. Fyne is coming.” Her large, brown eyes remind me of a giant sink-hole.

  “In a minute,” the first brunette with legs that seem to start just below the neck snaps as she glances briefly down the hall. “Where’s your new boyfriend at?” She turns her attention back to my Assignment.

  “Huh?” I feel my Assignment’s panic rising around me.

  Calm down. It will be okay. I try to comfort her.

  A little too sweetly, Ivy repeats her question. “Where’s your boyfriend at?”

  When my Assignment doesn’t answer, Ivy leans forward and hisses into her ear. “He’s only hanging out with you because he feels sorry for your ass.”

  “Ivy,” The empty-eyed girl hisses nervously.

  “Shut up Lauren. I know.”

  Lauren’s bottomless eyes dart back down the hallway, out of my Assignment’s view. I really wish she would look so I could see how close this Mr. Fyne is but she keeps her gaze firmly on the leggy Ivy. If her face wasn’t full of pure evil, she’d be a beautiful girl. Her round eyes shine the color of dark coffee and even though her lips are pressed into a tight line, they are perfectly shaped and thickly coated with a light pink lip gloss that matches the blush she's colored her high cheekbones with.

  Say something…anything. You have to defend yourself.

  “He’s not my…boyfriend.” My Assignment speaks so quietly that only two of the three dark haired girls actually hear her.

  “What?” Ivy stares at her like a wolf cornering a lamb.

  You can do this. Defend yourself.

  Even though I have no idea which boy they are referring to, I know that if my Assignment doesn’t defend herself against girls like this, the torture will be relentless.

  Ivy glowers at us. Just as she opens her mouth to talk, a male voice speaks harshly over my Assignment’s left shoulder and the three girls quickly step back.

  “What’s going on girls?” The man is still out of my view…but by the sound of his voice I know he’s close, very close.

  “Nothing, Mr. Fyne, we were just checking to see if Abby here got her notes from yesterday’s English class.” Ivy smiles innocently over my Assignment’s shoulder. Ohhh, I want to smack her a good one.

 
“Right. Well, let’s move along to your next class, okay?”

  The girls nod at Mr. Fyne and all three toss their long, brown hair over their shoulders in unison as they walk away, quickly becoming lost in the full hallway of high-schooler's. My Assignment watches as they disappear before turning to face her savior.

  Mr. Fyne is fine. A tall, dark-haired Greek God stands before us. I haven't looked at a man quite like I am looking at this one. His clothes are stretched out to accommodate every inch of his chiseled body. My lower jaw has detached itself from my head back at the Station and hit the floor with a solid ‘clunk’. This man is way too good-looking to be a teacher! I guess it's good to know that even after everything I've been through, I can still find an attractive man…well, attractive.

  “Everything okay, Abiline?” His ruby lips break apart slightly as he smiles and everywhere angels break out into chorus.

  “Yeah,” Abby, or Abiline says. “Just on my way to History.”

  I notice that she seems completely immune to Mr. Fyne’s gorgeousness. I can’t imagine a sixteen year old being able to form a full sentence around him. I know I couldn't. I’m surprised and a bit intrigued by her lack of interest. Not that it's a bad thing, he's her teacher…and she's still very much a kid. But I'm not. So I stare when given the chance.

  “I’ll walk with you.” He smiles, and there go the angels again.

  She shrugs but manages a small smile in return, and Mr. Fyne walks just beside her down the hall. Of course, every other girl stops to bat her eyes or say hi to him. He’s polite to them all but not overly so. I imagine he’s one of the most popular teachers in the school. I wonder what his subject is. I hope that Abby doesn't actually have him for one of her classes, he's simply too distracting. My job does not include drooling over teachers.

  “Well, this is it, right?” We’ve stopped in front of one of the classrooms and Abby nods shyly.