7 Minutes in Heaven

by Tracey Ward

“Alright, two purple, one white, one yellow, one blue.”

  “I found a blue.” She holds it up over her head triumphantly.

  “Nice! Eight minutes, thirty seconds.”

  “Yellow!”

  People are starting to stare. I give them dirty looks, reminding them to mind their own business. “Seven minutes left.”

  “Purple!”

  “You can have two.”

  “Of the same one?”

  “Nope. They have to be different.”

  “But I like this one.”

  I shrug apologetically. “Those are the rules, Ash. They have to be . . .” My voice trails off, my eyes distracted by a face in the crowd. A face staring at me from the other side of the food court.

  Mark.

  He’s not alone. I recognize a few guys from the baseball team with him, but none of them are looking this way. They’re talking and laughing. Having fun. Mark stands in their circle but he’s removed from it by the intensity in his gaze. The stick-straight way he’s holding his body upright. Like an animal on alert.

  “They have to be what?” Ashley demands.

  “Uh, different,” I tell her distractedly. My eyes are locked with Mark’s. My body breaks into a cold sweat. “They all have to be different or you don’t win.”

  Ashley doesn’t like it but she rolls with it. She respects the game.

  A group of girls passes right in front of the window. They break the connection between Mark and me, making me shuffle nervously on my feet. I blink hard, waiting for them to move. When they’re gone, so is Mark. The other guys are still there but he’s missing. Disappeared to God knows where.

  I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want to rush Ashley out of the store, out of the mall, but she’s doing what I need her to do and if I pull her away now, she’ll freak. I have to stay put.

  I turn my back to the window and I tell myself it was nothing.

  Seven minutes later, Ashley has all of the shirts she needs and two pairs of pants that she refuses to part with or try on. The adrenaline that rushed my system when I caught Mark watching me has faded. I feel almost normal again and I don’t bother fighting with Ashley about the clothes. They’re the right size and fit. If they don’t work when we get home, Mom can come exchange them for something else. The important thing is, I got further in one night than she did all month. I should charge her another twenty.

  I get us out of the mall as fast as I can.

  I lock the doors the second we get in the car.

  On the way home, I stop at McDonald’s to get Ashley her favorite meal. Chicken nuggets, large French fries, and a small Mt. Dew.

  “What’s Kyle’s mom’s name?” she asks me suddenly.

  I frown. “Um, I think it’s Melissa. I call her Mrs. Rixton. Is that what you call her at school?”

  “Yes. She’s nice to me. She says ‘hi’ to me when she sees me at school, even if I don’t have her class that day.”

  “You’re right. That is nice of her.”

  “She’s not nice to you though.”

  I snort in agreement. “Not always, but that’s okay.”

  “Why is she mean to you?” she asks curiously, munching on a fry.

  “Because she loves Kyle and she doesn’t like that I do too.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you going to marry Kyle?”

  I laugh without meaning to. I try not to do that to Ashley. I don’t ever want her to feel like her questions are stupid. “I don’t know,” I tell her seriously. “Maybe. Probably not.”

  “But you love him.”

  “It doesn’t always mean you get married.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re too young to think about that.”

  “When can you start to think about it?”

  “I don’t know. After college, I guess.”

  “I think you should marry him. He’s nice.”

  I smile softly. “He’s very nice.”

  Ashley sucks at her straw, making that raspy, empty sound. “Makena says I’m going to be a bridesmaid when she gets married.”

  “I believe it. She loves you like a sister.”

  “Will I be a bridesmaid in your wedding?”

  “No. You’ll be the maid of honor.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Not much, but the title is impressive.”

  “Do I have to wear green?”

  “No. You can wear purple.”

  “I’ll wear green if you want me to,” she offers.

  “Why would I want you to?”

  “Because it’s your favorite color.”

  Ashley’s Autism makes it hard for her to care much about other people. It doesn’t mean she’s not loving. It doesn’t mean she’s insensitive. It means that she has trouble putting herself in other people’s shoes. She has enough trouble being in her own shoes. Going into someone else’s is a tall order. She doesn’t always remember your birthday or that you should get presents on Christmas too. She’s not great at sharing because why would you want her stuff? But every now and then she says something that floors me. Something that tells me that she sees me and she’s watching, and it makes my heart hurt with a love I can’t describe.

  “That is my favorite color,” I agree quietly. “But you know what? I really don’t mind purple. And purple is more of a wedding color so if the day ever comes, that’s what you should wear.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  “Will you wear purple when you get married too?”

  “No,” she says like I’m crazy. “I’ll wear white. Everyone does.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not everyone. You’re cooler than everyone.”

  “I still want to wear white, Grace.”

  “Alright, Ash,” I chuckle, pulling into the parking lot of the pizza place. “Then that’s what you should wear.”

  Ashley stays in the car finishing her dinner while I go inside to get the pizza Mom ordered. The place is crowded. It looks like a lot of moms are at the end of their rope and not interested in cooking dinner tonight. Out of the group, I’m surprised to find Kyle’s mom waiting for an order as well.

  I wave weakly to her. “Hi, Mrs. Rixton.”

  “Grace,” she says, sounding surprised. Strangely unguarded. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Dead tired,” she sighs. She looks it. She’s wearing workout clothes and a thick jacket that’s overkill for this weather, but I don’t blame her. She’s still not used to the cold yet. She was born and raised in Florida. Utah winters have been a shock for her.

  “That’s what my mom said too.”

  “She sent you to get pizza for dinner?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Smart woman. I should have sent Kyle. Or called you to pick up both.”

  “I gladly would have,” I promise warmly.

  She gives me a blink of a smile. It’s so quick it’s practically nothing. “You’re sweet.”

  That should be a compliment, right? Yeah, it seems like one. So why does it sound like a condemnation when she says it?

  “Are you excited to start school tomorrow?” she asks conversationally.

  I shrug. “I guess.”

  “Senior year is exciting.”

  “I’m nervous. My mom is stressing the whole college thing.”

  “It’s a lot to deal with,” she admits, sounding more tired than ever. Her eyes are bare of makeup. I just realized I’ve never seen her without any on before. She looks older than she is. More worn. “The stakes are high for Kyle. We got in a lot of fights about The Mission this summer.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble uselessly.

  Her eyes dart to mine. She looks like she’s on the cusp of saying something. Her mouth opens, she leans a little closer, but suddenly she snaps her jaw shut and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s not your fault,” she replies briskly. “It’s family stuff. You don’t need to worry abou
t it.”

  “Okay. I just—you’re right. It’s not my business.”

  “No. It’s not. You have your own life to worry about. Everybody does.”

  Good advice. Sounds reasonable. Yet, again, the way she says it sounds less like friendly chatter and more like she’s telling me to shove off.

  I take a step away from her.

  “You’ll be going to Utah State?” she asks, but it feels more like telling.

  I clear my throat. “I guess. Maybe. I’m going to apply there but I’m looking at some out of state colleges too. I’ve lived in Utah my whole life. I’d like a change of scenery.”

  “Have you seen Kyle’s list of prospective colleges?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “Are you applying to any of them?”

  I look away. I can’t hold her eyes for some reason. “A couple of them.”

  “Are you equipped to go to these colleges?”

  “How do you mean? Like my grades?”

  “Your grades. Your finances. Your vision of your future. Do these colleges that Kyle is applying to align with what you want for your life?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. I think so.”

  “You think so,” she whispers to herself. She watches me carefully. I know what she’s thinking, but I can’t believe it when she actually says it. “Are you applying to these colleges to piggyback on Kyle’s success, Grace?”

  My mouth drops open in shock. “No. Of course not.”

  “He’s going somewhere great and you want to go with him, am I right?”

  “If I can, of course, but on my own merit.”

  “Your own merit will not take you where my son is going. The only way you’ll be able to follow him is if you use him.” She cocks her head at me like a large, angry bird. “Are you using him?”

  “No,” I reply forcefully. “I want to be with him, yeah, but I don’t know if that means—”

  “You can’t follow where he’s going,” she explains clearly. Coldly. “He doesn’t seem to understand that, but hopefully you can. He’s not just going to college. The college he plays for will set him up for his NBA career. That’s happening. He has the talent and the drive, and what he doesn’t need is an anchor. Do you hear me, Grace?”

  I swallow thickly, my eyes on the floor at her feet. “You’re saying I’m an anchor.”

  “I’m asking you not to be. And if you can’t be reasoned with, I’ll have to take more extreme measures, and I really don’t want to do that.”

  I nod. My eyes sting. They’re starting to swim. I don’t want her to see that. I think she’d enjoy it.

  “Pizza for Murray!”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Rixton,” I choke out roughly. “That’s my order. Have a good night.”

  I hurry to take the box from the guy behind the counter. It’s hot on my palm as I rush out of the building into the bright light of a beautiful evening. The cloudless sky feels big above me. It feels infinite and unfeeling. Cold blue, pierced by the white sun-light burning against my eyes. I have to squint to see where I’m going, and when I do, a single tear runs down my flushed cheek. They’re scalded with embarrassment and shame for something I don’t think I’ve done. And still I feel it. I hate it.

  I open the door to the seat behind the driver so I can put the pizza inside. “You ready to roll, Ash?” I ask as cheerily as I can manage.

  She doesn’t answer. That’s not uncommon. I don’t worry about it. I close the back door and open the driver’s to get inside.

  I freeze with one foot on the floorboard.

  Ashley is gone.

  “Ashley?!”

  I look around the parking lot. There’s no one here. Cars are in almost every parking spot but there’s not a soul in sight. I can’t see through the black windows on the pizzeria but I have a feeling in my gut like I’m alone.

  I grip my keys so hard they cut into my palm. “Ashley!”

  No answer. There’s no one to hear me. Not even a car on the road or an ant on the ground.

  “What is happening?” I whimper pathetically.

  I turn in a circle, searching for something. Anything or anyone. But there’s nothing. My chest aches like there’s a boulder sitting on top of it. It’s getting hard to breathe.

  I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. I count to ten until my heart is calm. “This is not real. This is not real. You have to wake up. Wake up, Grace. Wake up!”

  Wake up, Grace! Kyle cries in my ear.

  “Kyle!”

  Please. Please. Wake up. Wake up!

  “Kyle!”

  A twig snaps.

  The scent of orange fills my nose.

  Hands shove me roughly from behind.

  chapter thirty-one

  I collapse on the floor in the living room. My head hits the carpet hard, sending a jolt of lightning through my brain.

  “What the hell is happening?!” I shout at Ashley/myself from across the room.

  The pizzeria is gone. The sun has blinked out. We’re back in the living room with the motionless world outside the window like a painting. Like a lie we keep telling ourselves over and over again.

  “I don’t know!” she shouts back.

  “Something is wrong.”

  The old clock on the wall slips from its hook. It drops to the floor where the thick, beveled glass shatters loudly. We both jump away from it, stunned. Just as we move, the ground shimmies. It quivers under our feet like an earthquake that builds and builds until it’s an audible thing. Sturdy wood beams crack like thunder inside the walls. Dust rains down over our heads as the plaster in the ceiling gives way.

  I leap to my feet to search for somewhere safe to hide.

  There’s nowhere.

  “Stop it!” Ashley cries frantically. “You have to stop!”

  “I’m not doing it!”

  “You’re messing with the memory!”

  “It’s not a memory, right? It’s nothing. How can I be messing with nothing?”

  “You’re getting too emotional.”

  A window blows out. Ashley screams and cowers. Her eyes go wide and scared. It cracks my heart in two, because you can tell me that she’s me all you want, but the girl hunched in front of me looks like my sister. And it’s always killed me to see her sad.

  The winter whips inside the house. Snow covers every surface. Ice hits me in the face, cutting my cheek like a knife. Wind rushes in my ears violently.

  Water begins to pool at my feet.

  “Ashley,” I call tremulously.

  “What?!”

  The water is rising quickly. It’s everywhere all at once. It covers my ankles. My knees. It’s up to my hips and it’s so, so cold. I’m shivering so violently my teeth feel like they’ll crack against each other. “I think I know what’s happening.”

  “What?” She jumps up onto the back of the couch to try to get above the rising water. It’s dark and foreboding. I can’t see anything underneath it. Not even my own hand when it slips just below the surface, making my fingers tingle painfully. “Why is this happening?!”

  It’s up to my chest. My feet lift off the ground until I’m floating in water that doesn’t move. It’s coming from everywhere all at once but there’s no current. The surface is perfectly calm and flat, like an untouched lake in the moonlight. I can see my face in the reflection as it threatens to take me. I’m pale as a ghost, my mouth open in shock. Gasping for breath.

  “I think we’re running out of time,” I choke out.

  I have to tilt my head back to keep water out of my mouth. It circles my neck. It tickles my ears, pouring inside until I can barely hear anything at all.

  “We’re drowning,” I whimper pitifully.

  “No, we’re not,” she replies sadly. “We already did, Grace.”

  The water consumes me. It takes over my ears until I can’t hear. It takes my body until I can’t feel. It covers my eyes until I can no longer see. It devours me inside and out until . . .

  Darkness.

&n
bsp; minute five

  chapter thirty-two

  “Look out!”

  Whoosh!

  A ball flies by my head. It misses my face by an inch. I go rigid with shock, then nearly jump out of my shoes when it bangs like a gunshot against the door behind me.

  “Every time!” I shout angrily.

  “Here comes Prince Charming,” Ashley drones from behind me.

  I spin around, surprised to find her here.

  She shrugs. “I thought it’d be quicker to meet you here than to make you run all the way to the house.”

  “So sweet of you. Thanks.”

  “Anything for you. Or me, I guess.”

  “Seems less sweet now that you say that.”

  “Are you okay?” Kyle asks me hurriedly.

  I wave him away. “Hey, Kyle. Not now, okay?”

  He smiles. “I guess everyone already knows who I am, huh?”

  “Yeah, you’re a regular legend.”

  “It’s a small town.”

  I let my head fall back in frustration. “Kyle, I love you, but you are being so friggin’ annoying right now.”

  “That’s what the song says,” he agrees amiably.

  “Let’s go to the courtyard,” Ashley suggests. “It’ll be empty. And quiet.”

  Kyle frowns at me apologetically. “Seriously, I’m sorry about that. I was running laps and the ball was there in the middle of the—”

  We leave before he can finish his explanation. It feels rude, but seriously, I’ve heard it before. I can’t even count how many times now.

  Ashley leads me to my favorite spot on a planter near the cafeteria. I guess it’s no surprise since it’s technically our favorite spot. That’s still not something I’m used to. The fact that I’m talking to the other half of my brain in my sister’s body. I doubt a person should get used to that.

  She sits down with a huff. “We don’t know anything more than we already did. We’re not getting anywhere.”

  “I’m starting to wonder if it actually was Mrs. Rixton,” I admit. “That was the worst stuff I could think of and she didn’t seem that menacing at all. Definitely not angry or crazy enough to murder me.”

  “She said she would take extreme measures,” Ashley points out.

  “Yeah, but I think she meant she’d go after our college prospects or something. I don’t know. Seeing it all again, I just didn’t get murder vibes off her.”