Annaka

by Andre Fenton

“I wanna go home.” I began crying.

  “Annaka, what’s wrong? You don’t want to go to Cape Forchu?”

  “No, I just want to see Clay.”

  “Clay?” Grampy snickered. “Your imagination gets the best of you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “It’s the best part of me.” I closed my eyes.

  I didn’t want to go through these memories anymore. I just wanted to go home. I didn’t want to live in the past anymore. I just wanted to be present. Clay was hurt and he needed my help.

  “Where are you, buddy?” I whispered.

  “What are you doing with the journal? Are you trying to go back again?” I opened my eyes to see Tia facing me on Bobby Noah’s back deck. It was the night of the party I had written about in the journal.

  “Holy shit,” I said out loud.

  Tia looked at me closely. “What’s up? Are you trying to go back?”

  “No, I’m trying to go forward.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I looked down—I was holding the journal, open to the page I had written about the party. I had an idea.

  “I’m sorry if this hurts, buddy. I really am.”

  “Anna, what are you talking about?” Tia asked.

  “It’s Annaka,” I said as I pulled the page, ripping it clean out of the journal.

  I heard Clay scream from somewhere and everything faded away. We were away from drunk teenagers, loud music and from the rest of the world. Everything was dark.

  “Clay, I can hear you. Bring me back. Please, try!” I could hear him yelling in pain. I held what was left of the journal and closed my eyes. “Please, please, please, buddy.”

  When I opened my eyes again I was back in the truck, driving down the road. I heard the loud honk of an oncoming car, and jerked the steering wheel as hard as I could to the right, switching lanes and narrowly missing the car in front of me. I floored it towards town.

  “Anna, I can’t control it. I can’t. Everything is falling out of me.” Clay was holding his stomach. His nose was bleeding and his eyes were wide.

  I slowed down, pulling over to the side of the road. I looked at his stomach, and there was a stain of blue blood soaking through his dress shirt.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” I was freaking out.

  “Take me to the tree house. If I’m gonna go, that’s where I wanna go.”

  “Shut up, Clay. Don’t talk like that.”

  “Just hurry, please.”

  I hit the gas. I had to get back to the house. We rode past the waterfront, downtown, and through Main Street. I wasn’t going to slow down.

  I found the dirt road and sped up there faster than I should have. I parked outside the garage.

  I picked up the journal. The leather spine was barely holding it together, pages were falling out all over the passenger seat. I tried to pick them all up.

  “Clay!” I cried.

  “No tears. Not yet.” Clay said as he faded. I took the journal and climbed up to the tree house.

  “Why here?” I asked frantically. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Annaka.” He faded into the world and hit the floor. “Annaka, you have to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “You have to rip it.”

  “No! No, we can fix it. I’ll tape it. I’ll—” I tried putting it back together. It was almost completely torn in two.

  “No,” Clay cut me off. “I can’t control what’s happening anymore. If you went back again, I don’t think I could get you out. It’s too dangerous. You have to do this.” He looked me in the eye. “Please. Do it for me.”

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it even if the world depended on it. If the journal was ripped apart, that meant Clay would….

  “I can’t! I’m sorry.”

  “Please, Annaka. You don’t understand what’s going to happen. I can’t stop the jumping.”

  “You shouldn’t have come after me!” I shouted through my tears. “Why didn’t you just stay here?”

  Clay grabbed my hand tight, blood dripping from his mouth. He looked at me, and I knew he was barely holding on. “Because I’m your co-pilot.”

  Blue fog filled the air. I shut my eyes tight, knowing that everything around me was already gone.

  Chapter 23

  When I opened my eyes, I didn’t know where I was. I was lying on grass looking up at the Milky Way. The stars were the only lights illuminating Earth. This wasn’t a memory. This was something else.

  “Clay?” I called out into the universe. I could hear my voice echo but there was no response. “Clay, where are you?”

  I stood up; the sky was full of stars, the grass was dark. I looked down to see a lake.

  “What’s going on here?”

  There was no response.

  I turned around to see two silhouettes: the tree house and the house. I walked towards the house, and went straight to the front door. When I opened it, a gust of wind splashed against me and everything was see-through; white lines outlined our home. I caught my breath and could hear a phone ringing somewhere inside. I headed for the living room, where my grandparents’ ancient black telephone was ringing off the hook. I hesitated—I didn’t know what was happening. I mustered the little courage I had left and lifted it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Annaka.”

  I heard the voice I was so afraid of forgetting: my grandfather’s. Everything inside of me fell.

  “Grampy?” My voice began to whimper. “Grampy, is that you?”

  “Yes. Annaka, come here.”

  I heard his voice echo, and when I turned around he was sitting on the couch, his eyes looking straight into mine. Here was the familiar gentle giant of a man who was always able to put a smile on my face. But in that moment, I couldn’t smile. I began to cry.

  “This isn’t real.”

  The last time I had spoken to my grandfather was by phone. On my birthday last year, when he told me the story about the first time he heard my voice, as he always did.

  “This is just as real as anything,” Grampy was saying now.

  The terror vanished as soon as I heard him say that. I took a couple slow steps forward, still convinced it couldn’t be real. As I got closer, he revealed a smile that made everything okay. I ran and wrapped my arms around him. I let everything pour out. Everything.

  “I am so, so sorry, Grampy.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about, hon.” He patted my back.

  “I ruined everything. I shouldn’t have gone to meet Blake. I should have tried to come back sooner to see you. I should have—”

  “You didn’t ruin a thing. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

  A shiver crept up my spine. That’s when I realized that this was all real. It was all too real, and it was coming to an end.

  “Grampy.” I forced the words out through my trembling lips, and then my teary eyes got the better of me and I wrapped my arms around him even tighter. Even as a dead man, even as a ghost, he made me feel like a kid again. Safe. I wanted to stay there forever.

  “You’re so big now,” he said. “You’re all grown up.”

  “Yeah,” I said through the pain. “I guess I am.”

  “I guess you know now why I was so emotional the first time I heard your name.”

  I nodded and stepped back to look at him. “I’m so sorry I went through your stuff.”

  He chuckled. “No you’re not. Besides, it’s not like I could take any of it with me.”

  “I should have just left everything as it was. If I had, none of this would have happened.”

  “You’re a seeker,” Grampy replied. “You always were.” He smiled. “Just like your aunt.”

  “The one I never knew of.”

  “No, one
of the secrets I kept close to my chest. Kinda like the friend you have.” He winked at me.

  He had a point; I guess I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t keep my own secrets any longer.

  “She would have loved you,” he continued. “You’re just like her, y’know. She was always so eager to find her own way, even if it meant creating a mess. But one thing Annaka always taught me was to keep memories close, even if the ones you shared them with are gone. That’s why she gifted me the journal right before she passed, which I eventually passed along to you.”

  “Woah.”

  I had no idea my aunt had gifted the journal to my grandfather. She must’ve known he would need it for the moments he felt alone. But when Grampy found that sense of belonging he had always been searching for, he was able to let go of the past. So he gifted the journal to me. I let that sit with me for a little while. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I held on, wanting this moment to last forever.

  “Your friend,” Grampy spoke. “He needs your help.”

  “But I don’t know what to do!”

  “There’s only one thing you can do.”

  I knew my grandfather was right, and that’s what hurt. But what hurt even more was knowing there would be a future without him. One I had to navigate on my own. Contrary to what I’d been up to, time doesn’t slow for anyone.

  “I can’t leave him,” I said quietly. “I won’t leave him.”

  “Annaka, we can’t live in the past. Just like your aunt taught me: all of this, all of us, we’re temporary. We don’t need a journal to live forever. The people in your life will always be around you, in the memories you share. The good, the bad, all of it.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Clay loves you deeply. I know this is the hardest decision you’ll ever have to make, but he needs you to do it. He will always be with you, even if his physical presence was temporary.”

  Everyone is temporary. That thought buried itself deep in my heart. As difficult as it was to hear, I knew it was a truth I had to face.

  “He was always there to protect you. Just like my sister was there to protect me. Keep the memories, because those are only gifts that we can keep across time.”

  I didn’t say anything after that. I let silence fill the air.

  Grampy eventually whispered in my ear. “It’s time.”

  It was.

  I stood up slowly and walked back to the front door. I looked back one more time to see Grampy. He smiled.

  “You’re a grown-up now. This is the hard part.”

  “You’re right about that.” A tear made its way down my face.

  “Goodbye, Annaka,” he said one last time.

  “Goodbye, Grampy. I’ll miss you.” I opened the door.

  “I’m always with you, co-pilot,” his voice echoed in the distance.

  I walked outside, and headed for the tree house. I knew Clay would be there. Once I made it to the ladder, I glanced back and couldn’t see our home anymore. It had faded. It was time to let go. No matter how hard it would hurt.

  “Clay!” I called out. “Clay, where are you?” I climbed the ladder and found the damaged journal on the floor. Blue energy flowed all around it.

  “Clay,” I whispered.

  “I’m here.”

  He appeared in front of me, and he wasn’t in good shape. His nose was still bleeding and he was gasping for air.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I cried, and took him in my arms.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.” He hugged me back.

  “You’re my best friend.” I squeezed harder than I should have. “And I love you so so so much, Clay.”

  “I love you too.” He held on. “But it’s time.” He rested his forehead on mine.

  I looked at the journal and knew it was beyond repair.

  “Thank you for coming back, Annaka.” He looked at me deeply.

  I knew this was it. This was the part where I had to let go.

  I held on to Clay with one arm, while reaching for the journal with my other hand. I brought the book around his back, squeezing him as gently as I could.

  “I’ll never forget you,” I whispered, and kissed his soft cheek.

  That’s when I ripped it.

  I did it fast, all in one go. The blue energy blew back and everything around me began to disappear.

  “I’m always with you, Annaka. You’re always worth the wait,” Clay whispered to me as he faded away for the last time.

  I looked out the window of the tree house and saw the stars above my head fizzling away. Blue energy was seeping from the ground like fog. I closed my eyes, holding back tears with my fists clenched, resenting the world for being as cruel as it was. For taking away my co-pilot.

  When I opened my eyes again, I let my fists go. Everything was back to normal, the stars rested above my head, and I could feel the hard wooden floor of the tree house beneath me.

  I was back in reality without my best friend.

  “He’s gone,” I cried aloud. “He’s gone.”

  Chapter 24

  One of the last stages of grief is depression. And when I lost Clay, it felt like I skipped over all the other stages. After Clay died, I lost track of time, I lost track of friends, I lost track of family. I felt everything and nothing all at once. It was like feeling numb, but on fire all at the same time. I spent most nights crying myself to sleep. Mom thought I was going through delayed grieving for Grampy. But of course, I couldn’t tell anyone the truth except Tia.

  Tia tried her hardest to keep me in good spirits, but she understood when I didn’t always get back to her. I had dealt with two deaths so closely to each other and was reliving that pain all over again. My entire life felt like one big cycle of grief and it weighed on me. It was so heavy.

  So it made sense that one day when I was in bed feeling so far away from the rest of the world, I didn’t even notice Tia walk into my room.

  “Hey, hey,” she said. “It’s two o’clock and you’re still in bed?”

  “Hi.” I blew my nose. “What’s up in the world of Tia? Coming to visit her depressed best friend?”

  “You really think I’d miss your birthday?”

  That caught me off guard. I didn’t even know what day of the week it was, let alone when my birthday was. “I’m glad one of us remembered.” I rolled over.

  Tia came close, sat on the edge of my bed, and held me. “How are you feeling?”

  “It hurts,” I said into her shoulder. “It hurts more every day.”

  “I know.” She kissed my forehead.

  I had kept the journal. It was completely torn in half, but I’d kept it anyway. I spent so many nights trying to put it back together in the garage, but nothing worked. I had been hopeful for a bit, but eventually the hope faded away, just like he did.

  “I dream about what happened almost every night.” I choked up. “But I can’t change anything. If I’d just listened to Clay, if I’d just done things a little differently, then he’d still be here. With me.”

  “Hey, hey,” Tia calmed with her voice. “You were doing what your heart told you to.”

  “My heart was wrong.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” she replied. “It just means you’re human.”

  I sighed. “Maybe.”

  “Anna.” She paused. “Sorry, Annaka. You’ve been in your room for a month now. I know it’s hard, but we have to try. Is this what he would—”

  “No,” I interrupted. “He would want me to live my life. He would want me to go to school, become an A+ student, and to strive for greatness no matter what obstacles come my way.” I looked away. “But he isn’t here, Tia. Clay isn’t here to tell me that himself. And it hurts. It hurts so bad.”

  Tia noticed the ripped-up journal on my nightstand. She went over to it, exami
ning all of the pages that had fallen out.

  “There’s a lot in here, eh?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “He knew all of it, inside and out.”

  “And you want to keep it?”

  “I don’t know.” I sat up. “I don’t know if I can. It just, it hurts looking at it.”

  “Ahh, I see.” Tia set it down. “Have you ever thought of giving it a proper burial?”

  I couldn’t bury the memories. They were all I had. All those entries, all those times we spent jumping back to them. All the nights we stayed up, hanging out in the dark place like a second home. I couldn’t bury them. If I did, that would make all of this real, like when I touched Grampy’s urn.

  “I can’t,” I said.

  Tia could tell how hard it hurt when I said that. “Oh, Annaka.” She gave me a hug. When she pulled back, she tried to change the subject. “Why don’t we do something tonight, birthday girl?” She smiled.

  I didn’t feel like I was in any shape to go out. “Like what?”

  “We’ll have a girls’ night. We don’t need a plan. We can just go wherever the road takes us. The skies are going to be clear tonight. Let’s take advantage!”

  The last few weeks had been mostly rain, and I had spent most of it in my bedroom. It would be nice to maybe get some air, get away from these four walls for a bit.

  “Do you want to?” Tia pressed.

  “I think so.” I nodded. “Text me in a bit, and I’ll let you know.”

  “Whatever you want.” She gave me one more big squeeze before getting up. “I gotta head to work, but I’ll text you once I’m off. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I continued to lie in my bed, and looked over to the journal. I knew I had to get rid of it, but I wasn’t ready to let go, no matter how hard my fists wanted to be free.

  So I stayed in bed. I had absolutely no energy, I couldn’t remember the last time I ate or drank, or even showered. My bedroom was a mess, and my hair was even worse. I could hear Mom and Nan moving around downstairs, but they didn’t come up. They were good at giving me space, and respecting my boundaries. They knew I was hurting, and that I would come down when I wanted to. Eventually the clock hit five; I slid out of bed and made my way downstairs.