by Jolene Perry
And that’s my life.
Right there. Right here.
“Landon just needs some space. That’s all.” But it’s not all. It’s everything.
I didn’t get involved with people because I was arrogant enough to feel like it would suck to see someone walking away from me, and for whatever reason I assumed it would be their fault. Well, this is all my fault. It weighs me down and pulls on me hard.
“Come here, honey.” Mom reaches her arms out. But that’s the last thing I want right now. She touches me anyway.
A flash of bright, a flash of fear, and blackness.
I jerk my hand away. What was that? I’d forgotten about the white and black vision I had from her, but this one involved fear, too. What’s happening?
“Micah?” Mom touches me again and it’s Ethan’s face, his arms are wrapped tightly around her. Love.
“No.” I back away from her, walk around her, and step out the front door. What kind of craziness was that? And now I’m back to being worried about getting to school.
Landon might be there. It might be a misunderstanding. He might forgive me.
“Micah?” She sounds hurt and confused, but I don’t really have anything left in me to feel bad. It’s all used up.
“Please, Mom. I don’t want to be comforted. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want a ride.” Only I know my voice doesn’t work right. And I’m sure I’ll get some kind of lecture or something from her, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want to think.
I pull open the car door and sit in the passenger’s seat hoping she lets me be silent.
She does.
It’s probably going to be the best part of my day.
***
No black mustang today. No Landon. Just small bits of conversations.
He’s gone for the week…rehab...? I don’t know…he was the one who found her…drinks too much…went from Lisa to Brigitte to that new girl, Micah…no idea what he sees in her…wonder what kind of royal treatment he’s getting from whoever his dad hired to help out…will he be back this year...? You know the Michaels, he’ll be back or people will start to talk…
Nothing makes sense. Not my classes. Not my schedule. I can’t remember my locker combination. How can one weekend do that to you? Even though the walk to the Michael’s property from school is long, I do it anyway. I don’t want to face anyone, not even Mom.
When I’m on the last small road near the house, I remember that I might not want to be alone out here. Not with the things I’ve been seeing. My eyes scan and then drop to the pavement. Part of me wants to see, and part of me would rather be oblivious if something from the trees is after me.
After me.
I hit the driveway and step through the open gate. Nothing. Maybe I was right the first time. Maybe it was Lacey, or my imagination creating a Lacey until I told Landon. Well, I did. “Happy now?” I ask. My voice doesn’t echo. The trees soak it up and deaden the sound. “Maybe now you’ll leave me alone!” I scream it at the top of my lungs, my fists clench together so tightly I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms.
Movement in the trees strikes me again, but again, it’s in shadow. I can’t make out a shape. I tense to run after it, to make it do its worst, but I don’t have it in me.
“Coward!”
The word is for both me and whatever non-existent thing is watching from the woods. If there’s anything really out there. The sound of my breathing is the only thing I can hear. I listen as the trees soak up even that small sound. The sound that’s so loud in my head, but still not loud enough to destroy things I don’t want to think about.
I’m in bed when Mom gets home and beg for a few days off of school. She’s worried to the point of being speechless, but relents. She’s touched me over and over. I wait to see the odd vision of the bright white and the fear and the black, but it doesn’t come. Why would it? If it did I could maybe make sense of it. Maybe I really am going crazy. Having visions that feel broken and seeing things in the woods doesn’t paint a very bright future.
But in here I’m safe. My room is safe. No one can touch me. Maybe my chest will heal from Landon. Maybe the way I’m spliced apart will slowly melt together if I can stay lying down. If I can force myself to not move. It’s surprisingly easy. Be still. Be still. Be still.
I make it to Thursday. I’ve barely moved. My legs are stiff. My arms are stiff. I’ve stared at the TV, unwilling to make my brain work enough for even a book. Mom doesn’t go out with Ethan. I can tell she’s coming straight home from school. I can’t talk to her. There’s too much back-story. Too many things I can’t say for my devastation to make any sense. She sits in silence in the living room. I lay in silence in my room.
We live in the house of things unspoken.
***
The problem with staying in bed for days is that now, when I want to move, everything hurts—my head, my neck, my back, my legs.
It’s late at night. I don’t know what time. Only the last bits of twilight are left, and Mom’s already in bed. I’ve been in and out of sleep for days, but if I don’t snap out of it soon, Mom’s sure to send me to a shrink or something.
I know I could call Dad, but I’m just not ready to try and explain. I also know he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together to help Carol. And I know that he’d worry too much, and he’d also maybe suggest I tell Mom. Though, he’s told no one as far as I know, so maybe he wouldn’t. And now I’m back to my original thought, which is that I’m just not ready to talk to Dad.
I stumble to the front door in my pajama pants and a hoodie to slide my shoes on. Maybe going down to the water will help. Rumor at school is that Landon’s gone for the week, and he’s the only one I’ve ever run into down there. Except for the Lacey shadow, if that’s what it is. If that is what it is, maybe she’s gone now that Landon hates me.
I step outside and start on our trail down to the water. It’ll be black this time of night. There’s no breeze. Black glass. I look forward to it. The darkness, and even facing whatever’s lurking around my house.
One foot in front of the other. I remember how to walk. This is good. I’m okay. I try to suck in a deep breath of night air, but my chest still doesn’t work right, and I cough instead.
A skip, a movement, again out of the corner of my eye. “That’s it! I told you to leave me alone!” I run, blindly through the woods. I’m chasing. I swear I see something, skipping, running ahead of me. Whatever’s out here definitely has a form. A shape like a person. What am I doing?
My body freezes, and I realize I’m only a few steps away from the edge of the dock. There’s a whooshing, pounding noise in my ears, and it takes a while for me to realize that it’s my heart. My legs nearly buckle as I realize I’m alone. In the dark. Am I crazy?
I move toward the water instead of home—all I care about now is staying out of the trees. How many times have I chased a shadow toward the water?
The ocean looks just like I expected it would—black glass. Could I jump in? Would the cold shock me back to reality?
No. It would probably kill me. I’d be sucked down into the dark. Half of me wonders what it would feel like to drown in the freezing water. But I’m not the kind of girl to be this pathetic over a boy.
But, Landon. Hazel–eyed, wide-smile, Landon. My thoughts aren’t even making any sense to me.
Landon.
Landon who is already down here sitting on the edge of the dock. How did I not see him?
My feet plant. I’m stuck. I may as well have my legs in hardened cement. There’s no moving from this spot. Not right now.
He tilts a bottle to his lips, swinging his feet underneath him. He’s drinking. This is it, what I saw from him. Stupid, stupid, visions. I know how he’s wallowing in self-pity right now and it makes me mad. Angry. Neither word shows the hurt I feel.
“You’re such an asshole.” The words just leave my mouth. I didn’t ask them to. I didn’t want to say anything.
I wanted to disappear. I want to disappear.
He stood in my living room and told me my worst fears were true. That I should have done something. Even though I didn’t know what, or who to tell. He walked out on me.
His head turns. “Brave words coming from you.” He takes another drink. There’s drinking on every movement. His arms sway, his body sways, his head sways. “I’m still mad, by the way. It’s just harder to show it when I’m this hammered.” He scratches his face and almost loses his balance. He’s scooted far over the edge that he’s already half off the dock.
“What are you trying to do? Kill yourself the way she did? What the hell purpose does that serve?” Every muscle in my body is tight, tense, waiting.
“I told you! I’m still mad at you!” His voice is loud, but the edges of his words are soft. He’s had too much to drink for them to sound any other way.
“You’re mad at me because I saw something, only I didn’t know what I was seeing, not really. And you’re trying to kill yourself with the same thing! Brilliant, Landon! Real smart!” I’m done. This is ridiculous. I never imagined that I’d try to stand up for myself as far as Lacey’s concerned, but I can’t help it now.
He jumps up and comes toward me. His arms outstretched, like guys do when they’re about to get into a fight. “What do you want from me, Micah? To say that it was okay? What you did? Keeping shit from me like that when I told you everything? Told you things I hadn’t told anyone? I hate that I’m mad at you! And I love you. And it makes it so much worse!”
I don’t flinch. Even though he’s angry, tense, and about six inches from my face. What I did. I did nothing. That’s the problem. My heart skips. Loves me? Doesn’t matter. Not now. Not anymore. “It wasn’t okay.” I shake my head. “I should have done everything. And I did nothing. It hurts, and it sucks for me, too.” He wants to compare scars from this? We’ll compare scars from this. My jaw’s clenched trying to keep from crying.
He throws the bottle into the dark and we both wait for the small splash. “My mom has spent thousands and thousands of dollars for what I’m about to tell you right now.” He stares at me, but it’s like his eyes can’t hold still. Like he’s drunk so much that his brain is swimming, floating on a haze of something that smells like the whiskey Mom sometimes puts in her coffee.
His finger points at my face. “It’s not your fault. She made her own decisions.” He snorts out a laugh like he doesn’t believe a word of it. “And now I’m worth five hundred an hour!” He yells.
He reaches out to touch my arm. Soft light. Branches across my walls. His arms are around me. Gently. Softly. He’s full of love, compassion, sorrow, relief.
No, no, no, no… We’re WAY past that now. I’m pissed at him. Well, I’m starting to think things can be changed. If that’s true, I can keep this from happening, too. “Don’t touch me! You’re acting selfish and spoiled and like you deserve every ounce of the reputation you’ve brought down upon yourself!” I push him away from me, hard.
He staggers once. “What did you see?” He grabs me, and I’m hit with the vision again. His eyes are swimming. His nose is inches from mine. I hate Landon drunk. It’s pathetic.
“It doesn’t matter because I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen!” My face is wet with tears, and I’m not even sure when they started.
“Oh, now you’re interested in stopping things from happening.” His voice is thick with sarcasm and annoyance.
I reach out and slap his face with everything I have. “When they involve you and I together? Yes!” My hands both burns and aches with the force of my swing. I spin around and run up the hill to my house. All I can think is get away, get away, get away…
TWENTY-ONE
Landon’s back at school, and he’s hiding whatever’s going on well. I’m already good at blending. I put all my skills into full effect. I’m quiet. I use my disappearing face. I look at everyone, but not at anyone. It sucks now that there’s people I talk to, and now that Landon is so close, but further away than he’s ever been.
Just that short amount of time when I had people makes my silent days that much more silent.
I know Landon’s at baseball practice after school so there’s a short amount of time where I can be near the water.
I head there first. After my long walk home.
The sand is warm under my stomach. There must be some kind of sailboat race or regatta or whatever they call it going on. I rest my cheek on my arms stretched out in front of me. I love looking at the brightly colored sails as the boats navigate amongst themselves. The idea of moving over the surface of the water powered only by the wind feels incredible, ancient, powerful.
The small waves lap up on the beach and I’m blissfully alone. I take a deep breath of salty air. My black shirt soaks up the sun’s rays, which warms my body in a way I haven’t felt since last summer. Maybe I won’t feel broken forever. Just for now.
My phone rings. I’m reluctant to be pulled from my state of distraction, but check the ID anyway.
It’s Dad. The man I’ve wanted to talk to, but have been afraid to call. It’s just a lot to dump on a guy trying to save his fiancée.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Micah?”
“It’s my phone.” I try to laugh like everything’s okay. It doesn’t come out right. I don’t think. My bare legs are stretched out over the sand. I dig my toes around in the warmth.
“I, uh, wanted to call you.” His voice sounds strange.
“What is it?” I’m immediately on edge, and prop myself on my elbows.
“Two things. One, your mother called worried about you.”
“The story’s too long to explain, Dad. But I messed up pretty bad.”
“The boy?” he asks, even though I’m sure Mom gave him the rundown—or what she knows of it, which is almost nothing.
“My fault. At least the start of it was. And then I ran into him, and…” I don’t want to relive that night.
“Well, he’s an ass if he doesn’t see what he’s missing.” It’s so Dad.
“Thanks.” I rest my chin on my hand, glad for the distraction.
“So, the good news, Micah. We saved her. Carol. I mean, she mentioned something about not feeling well last night, and I went down this list of heart attack symptoms and ran her to the hospital. She thought I was overreacting and crazy.”
“Carol.” My body’s suddenly weak.
“Yes, Carol.”
“Wow.” I let my head collapse onto the sand and rest there.
“She’s going to be okay, Micah.”
Together, Dad and I made something better. We changed it. “I’m so glad.” Only, I’m more than glad. I feel kind of powerful. I helped change something.
“I knew. That’s the point. Because we did all that research, I knew what to do. I don’t know how different the outcome would have been, but—” The line is quiet for a moment. “Thank you.”
“Yeah.” It’s all I can manage to get out. And maybe we didn’t change anything. Maybe she would have been fine. Maybe fate knew what would happen to her, and that’s what we saw. I just don’t know.
“We’ll be in the hospital today. They’re running a few more tests, but she really is fine.”
“So, what do you see now?” I ask.
“Our wedding.” The emotion makes his voice shake. “It’s a very good-looking young man you bring with you. Light brown hair, hazel eyes. I’m assuming he’s the one you saw your face from?”
I have no idea how I feel about Landon coming with me. Does that mean we work things out? Because right now we’re not even making eye contact.
“Are you sure about that?” I roll onto my back, pulling my knees up.
“I’ve touched her over and over, even recently. Do you want you two to be okay?” There’s nothing but fatherly concern in his voice now. It feels good. “Because I think you could be.”
“I don’t know.” It all feels impossible. At this point, we’ve both said horrible things. How do
couples recover from something like that? Especially when it happens just as they’re starting out?
“Well, visions aren’t perfect. All I know is what I saw.” Dad’s voice is so relaxed about the whole thing.
How can he be so relaxed? We’re talking about Landon! Landon with the broken heart, and a smile that breaks mine. Landon who’s deeper and more profound than I ever expected. Landon who I miss more than I ever thought I could miss anyone. Oh. I miss Landon. Really, really, miss him. Maybe we will work together, and maybe the idea that I want to is enough.
“What do I do?” I ask. What do I do to get that back? Him?
“What?” he asks.
“Sorry, Dad. I don’t know where that came from. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you, Micah.” He breathes into the phone. “I just wanted to tell you.”
“Thanks.” I never thought Dad and I would be like this. “I love you, too.”
I hang up the phone and sit up. Is there even a possibility of Landon and I making up? I’m not sure. I think about our words to each other on the dock. How I slapped him, and how good it felt in that moment of anger and hurt.
Do I even want to put myself out there again?
Worth the risk?
My heart aches at the thought of it. At how I’ve felt split apart since we yelled at each other. Twice. I pick up my flip-flops and head toward the house.
The deep green path is so much brighter in real light. Sunlight. I pause, the breeze is still cool though and as it hits my cheeks and neck, I break out in goose bumps. My eyes scan the trees as always.
“Are you out there?” I ask. “I don’t know if you’re a friend, an enemy, a reminder, or a figment of my imagination.” I stop and hear nothing but my breath. “Any chance you want to help me figure that out?” Nothing. Though, if I saw or heard something right now, I think the last threads of my sanity would probably snap.