Touching the Surface

by Sabatini, Kimberly

  It all happened at once. There was a loud gasp. Julia’s eyes flew open. She was angled just enough that she could see the person who made the noise. It was Becks—her face falling like an avalanche. She was the picture of devastation, and then she was gone. Julia flew after her, boy forgotten.

  “Becks, it’s not what you think . . .”

  • • •

  I cleared my throat. “That’s funny, it seemed exactly like what Becks thought it was.” I couldn’t help it. “You to be your Passengermargin-right: hibI have a way of making your best friends feel really good about themselves.” I narrowed my eyes at Julia. Now Oliver had his arm around her.

  Oliver shook his head at me, while Julia just appeared horrified. I wanted to be more compassionate, I did—but really, Julia was the one being mean to me. She was the one who’d cut me out of her life.

  “Oliver, can you walk Julia over there?” Mel waggled her finger in the direction of her desk. “Have her sit down and get her a drink of water.”

  “Sure,” Oliver said, gently holding Julia up. He turned to look at me, his jaw clenched tight. “You want to help me?” I wasn’t falling for that Jedi mind trick. I glared at him. The sensation of being misunderstood was bubbling up and threatening to choke me.

  Before I could say anything, Mel shooed Oliver forward. “I need to speak with Elliot. We’ll be over in a minute.”

  Mel turned to me. Her voice was soft and private. “You can’t blame them too much. It’s not their fault they’re unable to see what’s going on inside your head. I know how confused you are. First Julia doesn’t treat you the way you expected and then Oliver shows up and smothers you with unconditional love. Then to add to the confusion, there’s that connection between you and Trevor. No wonder you’re flustered.”

  “I think you’re confused, Mel. I don’t have a connection with that asshole—” Mel threw up her hands but I kept going. “It’s Julia and Trevor who are connected.” Connected at the lips.

  “I agree, they do have a link too, but you and Trevor seem bound and determined to be together.”

  “What?” I said it so loud that the whole room halted midsentence and turned to stare at me. I backed up, definitely not making eye contact with Trevor’s girlfriend. I zeroed in on Mel.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t want to—ewwww!” I spat out the last part, daring her to contradict me.

  “Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Mel said. She waved me off, which turned my mood extra sour.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “I understand. I apologize. Let me clarify. What I meant was that both of your souls are pulling you together. It’s as if you need each other to figure out what’s going on and understand how to move forward. It seems to me, the more you try to avoid each other, the more entangled your paths become. Right?”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. And I really wondered what he had meant in his last Delve, when he announced that he was to blame for Oliver’s death.

  “You don’t always have to be so hard on yourself,” Mel said gently. “Everything is simply about choices . . .”

  Just like Freddie had said.

  Screw it.

  Everyone was conspiring to make me crazy.

  “In that case”—I turned my back on the room—“I choose to get the hell out of here.” I stalked off, exiting the building, but came up short—I had no idea where the hell I wanted to go. Needing to move, I started out toward Trevor’s pond. After working up a sweat, I to be your Passengerps qui changed my mind about going there. That hadn’t really worked out so well. Instead I decided it would be better to just go back to my nest. Backtracking, I was about halfway down the hill when I heard the sharp snap of a branch breaking behind me. I whirled around, but I could barely see a thing. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed the eerily quiet forest all around me before now. Fog twisted heavily around the trunks of the trees. It draped over the lowest branches of the cool evergreens.

  I’d never run across such a place at the Obmil before, so I peered out into the mist to discover whose creation I’d stumbled upon. As I strained to see, a warm light seemed to break up the fog. The harder I looked, the brighter the light became.

  This was my creation.

  It was a little unnerving to be reminded how my subconscious operated without me. If this reflected my personal level of clarity, I wasn’t getting out of the Obmil any time soon.

  There was another noise. I turned toward it. Before I could decipher the sound, Oliver broke through the mist and stopped short in front of me. The expression on his face looked just like that girl Becks, when she’d caught Julia kissing someone important. It was a patchwork of hurt and disappointment, sewn together with shock.

  I suddenly felt unbalanced, like I’d made a misstep and should realize it, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. I’d never seen him like this.

  “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

  “What the hell was that back there?” Oliver was literally giving off sparks.

  “What?” Oliver angry? My mind was spinning.

  “You. At Workshop.”

  Understanding unraveled from the inside out. He’d wanted me to help him with Julia. He was such a good guy and he expected me to be like him. Compassionate. “Hey, she’s the one who’s always pushing me away.” I sniffed and swallowed at the lump in my throat. “But anyway, I’m sorry. You’re sweet and kind and I know I really should try to be a bigger person.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, not knowing what else to do with myself.

  “You’re jealous.” Oliver’s voice had a bit of an edge to it and it took me up short.

  “Jealous?”

  “Of Trevor and Julia. After everything I’ve done for you. You want him.”

  “What?” I asked, but a panic was building inside my chest. I knew who he was talking about and thinking about it made me afraid. It seemed like I was a magnet for trouble—prone to thinking asinine things. Oliver was standing in front of me, once again wearing his heart on his sleeve, and I’d just taken it for granted. Instead of appreciating the love I had, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about someone who didn’t make me feel safe and comfortable—how stupid was that? I could see it clearly. I’d hurt him and, even worse, I hadn’t even thought of him in the moment I was having my Trevor rant. Seeing the look of betrayal etched across his features felt as bad as the moment I realized I’d killed him.

  Apathy and self-absorption should have been a smaller wound than manslaughter, but in some ways, it cut deeper.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” I started to cry, a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “I gave up everything to be here for you. Why do you need more?” Appearing exhausted, to be your Passengerg.hihe sat down. “I’m supposed to be helping you find your way, and unbelievably, hanging out with you makes me feel lost and in need of intervention.”

  I’d made things even worse. I should’ve paid more attention. I’d been lost in my own thoughts and I’d dragged Oliver right along into the abyss with me.

  “Can I walk home with you?” I pleaded, wanting a way to make us both feel better.

  It stung, watching him flinch at my approach, but he allowed me to pull him off of the carpet of pine needles. As soon as he was on his feet, he let my fingers fall away.

  Neither one of us made a sound as we traveled through the woods, scattering the mist that had become more ominous as we both wandered around in our own thoughts.

  I was hoping we could talk once we reached the Haven. I didn’t want to leave things like this. But Oliver said he’d promised to meet Mel at her room. I followed him there, not wanting to let him out of my sight until things were back to normal between us.

  I twisted Mel’s art deco silver doorknob and pushed against the heavy dark wood with my shoulder. When the door gave way, I was surprised to see Mel already inside, sitting on her forest-green chenille overstuffed couch. Her feet were tucked up underneath her and i
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  17

  the funny

  thing about

  wishes

  “Elliot, I died for you.” His shoulders slumped and his voice was just a whisper. “I didn’t know what I was doing, but my soul did. Sure, I unbuckled my seat belt to put my little sister back in her car seat, but I also did it for you on some unconscious level. I decided to take that risk in order to force you into an intense examination of yourself. I made a choice and a promise when I was leaving the Basin to do what I needed to do as your Passenger. You picked me. I didn’t know it in my last life, but I was hardwired to connect with you in the most intense way possible. To be the catalyst for you to realize who you really are. Damn it, I’m still trying to do that.”

  What? He’d died on purpose? For me? It couldn’t be. I felt dirty, stained.

  I tore off down the hall, unable to search deeper, afraid of what I might possibly learn about myself if I stayed. I raced straight to my room, ignoring everyone else along the way. I couldn’t risk another personal interaction that might end in disappointment, but when I passed by Freddie’s desk I couldn’t help but pilfer the soft, blue plaid flannel shirt that was hanging on a brass hook. I stuck my nose into the kind of softness that only comes with time and breathed in the scent of apples and cinnamon. It wasn’t his aroma; he’d been filching pie from the kitchen again.

  My stomach rumbled, but the need to hide away and watch the eagles was stronger than my need for comfort food. I couldn’t stand the heaviness of my thoughts anymore. Couldn’t they be weightless for a change? I wanted to soar. What would it feel like to leap with abandon and ride the currents? Imagine launching into the unknown. Could falling be only a heartbeat away from flying?

  It was nowhere near bedtime, but I pulled off my clothes and dove into Freddie’s shirt. I wasn’t going anywhere and I wanted to be able to pretend I was asleep when Julia arrived. I didn’t know what to say to her. I let my finger trail across the ledge, over to the paper cranes. My heart skipped a beat. There had to be at least fifty cranes in different sizes and colors, standing at attention.

  When had she made them and, more important, why?

  My head was throbbing. I couldn’t think about those delicate origami birds. I perched on my window seat, scanning the sky and waiting. I wanted to see something real, not cleverly folded paper that masqueraded as something true. I rubbed my silver eagle feather charm. It felt familiar and strange at the same time.

  I couldn’t remember how the necklace had come to me, but I must have acquired it on one of my other visits to the Obmil. Tokens from life don’t travel with souls into the afterlife, but gifts made in the afterlife have a way of sticking with a person. Here at the Obmil, the charm was a cool and tangible connection that I could place my fingers on. In my last life it would’ve been to be your Passenger of herhiI bit my lipthe ghost of a necklace, a niggling feeling that there was something I could tap into if I could only access it. It would have felt like intuition, guiding me, if I was paying attention.

  Sighing, I pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets. My headache had deepened from the effort of thinking in spirals. I looked back out across the lake. There they were, the two eagles. They were free and I was envious. Could I fly away from the Obmil? My lids became heavy, exhaustion catching up with me as I wondered how far you really did have to travel to leave limbo.

  • • •

  I was aware of the cool night air blowing across my face before I registered anything else. I shifted slightly, eyes still closed. I could smell the nightly bonfire from down on the beach. I stretched, rotating my sleepy, stiff muscles, as I snuggled deeper under the warmth of the down comforter.

  “What the—ouch!” I sat up in a rush and smacked the top of my head against the inside storm shutter that must’ve come loose from its hook on the wall. I tried to search the room while extricating myself from the tangle of blankets, but all I could see were stars shooting around in my own head.

  “Who’s here?” I yelled. The smell that hit me was wrong—it wasn’t Julia. Who did I know that smelled like pinecones and jelly beans?

  The final indignity was tipping off the window seat into a heap on the floor. My head was half buried in down, and suddenly I didn’t care if there was an axe murderer in the room. I just lay there, rubbing the goose egg on my noggin. Damn thing felt more like an ostrich egg.

  “How’d you know I was here?” the voice asked. It was soft like the breeze in summer.

  Really? Pinecones and jelly beans? Trevor? I must’ve been quite distracted when I was pinned beneath him at the pond. I didn’t remember that at all.

  “Elliot?”

  The gentleness of his voice ran a finger down my back to the base of my spine, sending goose bumps everywhere. Goose bumps were better than goose eggs.

  “Elliot, you okay down there?”

  He actually sounded a little concerned, like I might’ve knocked myself unconscious during my acrobatic fit. I thought about playing dead, but then I realized how ridiculous that was and couldn’t stop giggling.

  “What’s the joke?” he asked, his voice traveling to me from across the room. I flipped over and sat up, gazing out the window. I needed to give myself a moment. No eagles, but lights, similar to the aurora borealis, rippled in the black sky. I turned to look at him.

  Trevor was sitting on the floor, his back angled against the door to my room. His knees were propped up but I could see enough of him in the starlight to know that his black T-shirt was absent its usual commentary. He was mindlessly banging his thumb in a rhythmic beat against his thigh.

  I stood up, piling my blanket back onto the window seat. I could feel myself growing increasingly warm despite the cool air blowing my oversized flannel shirt around my knees, the very same knees that seemed to no longer be qualified to hold my own weight. I wanted to ask what he was doing in my room, but he was busy mumbling something under his breath. He stared at me with a steady gaze, but I didn’t believe he was relaxed at all. His fingers were making tracks through his hair.

  “The comforter,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “You asked how I knew you were here. It was the comforter. I hadn’t been wrapped up when I fell asleep.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You covered me?” I asked.

  “Your toes were cold.”

  “How did you know my toes were cold?”

  “I accidentally brushed up against them when I checked to see if you were Delving. Julia thought you might be sleeping up here and didn’t want to wake you. I said I’d check.” He shrugged as if going around and testing people for Delves was an average, everyday occurrence. Like hanging out with Julia was what he always did. He shrugged as if being here with me was completely random. Then I noticed the way he was fiddling with the laces of his boots.

  I wanted to feel violated that he’d snuck into my room uninvited while I was sleeping, angry that he was with Julia before he came to see me, but I didn’t. I had the unexpected feeling that he was here because he needed me. The fragile tenderness had returned from those moments at the pond. My heart beat like the wings of a baby bird.

  “Thank you—for covering me.”

  “What, no huffing and puffing? No lecture for sneaking up on you even if I had a good reason?” His voice had a scratchiness to it, like he’d been sitting quietly for a long time. He was baiting me. I decided my best bet was to ignore it.

  “You said you had a good reason for being here?” Luckily, I sounded calm, but inside I was ready to spring in a million directions. I grabbed at a lock of hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around my finger.

  He sighed. “You’re twisted, Elliot.”

  I tried to drop my hand but I’d gotten myself tangled in my own hair. Before I could unknot myself, he was on his feet and moving closer.

  “You need to Delve.” He was fixed on me like a hawk tracking a baby bunny.

  I freed myself just in time to throw my palms up in surrender. “I’ll
be there in the morning. I’m not hiding from this anymore.”

  I peeked down at my toes. They were getting cold again now that they were hanging out on the night floor. But pulling on my woolly socks wasn’t an option. I didn’t need to make my outfit look any more embarrassing than it already was. I added, “Something’s been bothering me. I didn’t really have time to think about it before, but . . . I don’t know how I died.”

  He moved to within a foot of me. “Not tomorrow. We need to Delve now. I can’t wait, Elliot. I’ve been thinking about this too and I have to know what happened.” He needed me to Delve? Well, that explained why Julia couldn’t help him.

  “I—I think I might have killed myself,” I spat out. The cold in my feet moved upward, freezing my heart so it could barely beat. “Things were so bad and I was feeling so dead inside.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Jesus, Elliot. I don’t want to hear that.” He began pacing the floor like the walls held him here against his will. “There are too many unknowns to start making stupid guesses. Like we need to worry about your eternal damnation when we can’t even figure out what I was ready to confess.”

  “So this is about you? I should have known.” Here I was worried that I’d comm want to go back therewhibI itted a cosmically irreversible offense. I could end up banished to hell and he was only concerned about himself. My fears were more than realistic. Mel had hinted that there were consequences for taking too long to sort out your soul, but I had a feeling there were also ramifications for the really big screwups. It wasn’t so hard to believe that certain crimes were unforgivable. I shivered.

  “Oh for God’s sake, this isn’t about who’s the biggest drama queen.” He rolled his eyes. “Even Julia knows that.” I involuntarily reached for my cheek. His harsh words should have left a five-fingered mark on my face.