44 Book Four (18 page)

He was sitting on my bed, playing with my iPod as I got ready for the funeral.

“It’s nice you’re going,” he said, not looking up.

I hated funerals. I hated everything about them. The smell of the incense hanging in the air, the way the light looked as it filtered through those stained glass windows. The shiny casket up front. All those tears and swollen faces.

But mostly I hated that somber, dark feeling that lodged deep down between the ribs when everything was over, that feeling that stayed around for a long, long time.

“He was a good guy,” I said. “And a cool teacher. One of the few I ever had.”

“Yeah,” Jesse said.

I clipped my hair back and closed the closet door.

“I just wish I could have…” I said.

“You saved hundreds of people,” he said. “I know it’s hard to remember that now, but you will someday.”

I wiped at my eyes and Kate called from the living room.

“Almost ready, Abby? We have to get going if we want to get seats. It’s going to be packed.”

“One minute,” I yelled back.

I grabbed my black cardigan off the chair and put it on.

“Hey, by the way, you never went to mine,” Jesse said, standing up.

“I would have loved to have gone to your funeral but I was in the hospital recovering, remember? You should know, you were there with me.”

“No,” he said. “I mean my grave. You still haven’t gone to my grave, Craigers.”

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Well, maybe it’s time,” he said.

I grabbed my phone.

“See you later, Jesse,” I said, squeezing my arms tight around him.

***

I was glad that Kate had made us get there early so we could get a seat. We sat in the back, but with an hour to go before the services, every seat in the church had been taken and there was a large crowd standing behind us.

The pews were filled with some of the people I had gone to school with. I talked to a few of my old soccer teammates, said hello to some teachers, and nodded at Conner sitting a few rows up.

The administrators at Desert Wind had closed the school for the day in remembrance of Mr. Collins and to allow students and faculty to attend his funeral. But because they were expecting so many people, cameras were set up and the service was broadcast back at the school.

As I sat listening to the priest, my mind began to wander over the events of the last few days.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Devin. It came out in the newspaper articles that he had been in trouble a lot. His father refused to talk to reporters when they asked him why Devin did it.

During a search of Devin’s room, police found something strange. It was mentioned in one of the stories in
The Bugler
and later picked up by the local TV stations. Devin had a series of photos of an injured boy who was bleeding from the head. Officials weren’t releasing his name.

When investigators got around to asking me how I knew what Devin was planning, I just came out with it.

“I had a dream,” I said.

They seemed skeptical. I didn’t care.

Doctor Krowe had been able to see me the day after the bombing. I had asked him about evil. Because I couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t get a hold on it. Were people just born that way, like babies with a birth defect, or did it have to do with how they were raised? In many ways Nathaniel and Devin couldn’t have been more opposite, yet they were both killers.

“I don’t know, Abby,” Dr. Krowe said, placing his glasses up on top of his balding head.  “I’ve dealt with a lot of Devins over the years, too many, and I still couldn’t tell you why they do it.”

I nodded, appreciating the honesty.

“But maybe it’s not your job to try and figure them out,” he said. “Maybe it’s about you staying one step ahead of them, like you did with those kids.”

The priest finished his prayer and the eulogies began. There were a lot of tears.

When it was over, the priest walked down the stairs swinging the thurible from a chain, white smoke rising up and around the casket as he circled it in prayer. Soft sobbing echoed off the walls as the procession began and Mrs. Collins and their three young children followed the coffin down the aisle out into the glaring sun, never once looking up at the crowd.

I remembered what Pep Guardiola had said when Chelsea eliminated Barcelona.

“Sometimes you smile, sometimes you lose.”

Today we all lost. And there were no smiles.

CHAPTER 47

Breakups are hard. Tough. But sometimes, there isn’t a choice.

We walked along the river until we got to the Big Eddy rapid and then sat on some rocks near the white foam cascading down in front of us. Mist floated upwards, touching our faces. We were quiet.

It had been a long hour and I was tired of talking. And even though our relationship was about to crash on the rocks, I still felt good about telling Ty everything. I was tired of keeping secrets from him. If he couldn’t handle it, that was another story. I wasn’t going to hide anymore.

And I couldn’t just keep ducking from his calls or leaving messages saying that I needed more time. We would be guiding together in a few weeks and seeing each other on the river most days. We had to figure it out, end it amicably.

Ty knew all the details of the bombing like most everyone in Bend. Probably like most people in the country. And he knew from Kate that I was involved somehow, although he didn’t know the specifics.

So as we walked on the trail that followed the river up to the rapids, I filled him in. Leaving nothing out.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I said, after talking about the visions of Devin. “None of it. Everything changed when I drowned in that lake. Everything. This is something that found
me
. And now it’s who I am.”

I watched his gentle white energy turn a little darker as the story about Devin progressed. I could tell he wanted to ask a question, but he didn’t. He just listened.

But we had been sitting for a while now, the story done, and he still hadn’t said anything. I stared at the whitewater and told myself to be strong.

I looked at my watch.

“I’ve got to get going soon,” I said. “Shift starts at two.”

I was hoping David was working today. He seemed like a perfect friend to talk to about this kind of thing.

“Abby,” Ty said finally. “First off, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

He moved to a closer rock and took my hand. But it didn’t make me feel any better. I had already made a decision. I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t believe me. It wasn’t going to work out.

“Yeah,” I said.

We sat for a moment watching an early season kayaker dressed in a wet suit, walk up to the river and study the rapids, his hand out over his eyes blocking the sun. It was unusual for them to go down solo. It was a permit-only section and mostly the rafting companies took people down.

“Going down?” Ty asked, his arms resting on his knees. He already had a nice tan going.

“Yeah,” the guy said. “I’m looking to avoid that nasty pocket over there.”

“Good idea,” Ty said.

I smiled. We always tried to avoid the nasty pocket, too.

When he left, Ty looked back over to me, reaching toward my face. He lifted up my sunglasses and put them on top of my head. He did the same with his and moved even closer.

“I know I hurt your feelings that day at the park,” he said. “And I’m sorry about that. But you’re not the only one, Abby, that has things in their past that they’re dealing with. And everybody deals with them different.”

I nodded.

“Now, that was a terrible, terrible thing you went through last week. All I can say is that I wish you would have let me in. Let me help you in some way.”

“And that’s the exact reason we can’t be together, Ty. I don’t think I could have asked you for help. Not when you think I’m crazy.”

He sank back, looking sad.

“I’ll take responsibility for that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left it like that. That’s my fault.”

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if it was his fault or not. It was how he felt.

“But I don’t want to lose you, Abby. I’m falling in love with you. I am in love with you.” He looked away quickly. “And I’ve been waiting for this for a while now. This feeling. I don’t want this to end. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

His words were nice, filling my heart, but I still couldn’t see a way around it.

“I can’t tell you to believe me when you don’t,” I said. “And I don’t want you pretending. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“But can’t you give me a little while? Why can’t you be a little more flexible? More understanding.”

I sighed. He was twisting everything up.

“I need to be able to talk about these things if I’m with you,” I said. “And I need to know you don’t think I’m crazy. And I don’t want to have to prove anything. I don’t care about that anymore. I’m not out to convince people. They believe me or they don’t. But the person I’m with has to, Ty. And you don’t. I don’t see a way around that.”

He inhaled slowly.

“Is it because of your religion?” I asked.

“Religion?” he said. “My religion is the sky and the river and the trees. You know that.”

I looked over at him as he tried to think of more words to say. His energy was lighter again, swirling around in quick circles. As I stared at him, that fluttery feeling bubbled around inside.

“Abby, I don’t think you’re crazy or lying or anything like that. I promise you. You saved all those kids at the school and that was amazing. And I totally believe that some sort of supernatural something happened.”

He stopped for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“Can’t you just understand that I’m not comfortable with it? Why does that mean we have to break up?”

We were quiet for another minute and watched as the kayaker squeezed into his boat and paddled out to the calm stretch of the river, before turning into the roar. He sailed down the rapids, avoiding the whirlpool, like he had done the run a hundred times.

Ty stood up, offered me his hand.

“Come on,” he said, smiling. “I don’t want you to be late on my account.”

I took his hand, and as he pulled me up I smiled at those crazy feelings surging through me again. It was nice, having feelings like this.

“Maybe we can try,” I said, squinting in the sun.

Ty came closer and gave me a long, long hug.

CHAPTER 48

It was those large, empty holes that always chilled me the most in cemeteries. The ones freshly dug out and waiting, the holes that would forever swallow the dead.

We strolled past one, a shovel thrown next to it on the grass, and I shivered.

“Damn,” I said, smoke floating up into my face. “I hate those.”

Mo took another hit.

“I’ll meet you,” she said and took off down the narrow cement path that led past rows of tombstones.

I didn’t follow. I knew she wanted to be alone. I could visit Spenser’s grave later.

She had wanted to come with me when she found out I was stopping by the cemetery after work. I was surprised, but glad for the company, even if she didn’t say too much.  It was a cold, gray day, but the rain had stopped and the clouds were breaking up above.

I walked toward the east, past three angel statues and an enormous Celtic cross.

It had been a few weeks since the bombing and I was still trying to get my head right. But it was getting better. Lately I thought about all those kids we had saved. They had been in the crosshairs of a killer and hadn’t even known it. And it was a good feeling knowing that they were all still alive, thinking about tests and soccer and homework and football games and friends and kissing and the coming summer. They all had their lives out in front of them and it felt good that I had helped.

As I walked through the cemetery, past all the gravestones and flat markers in the grass, I smelled the bouquet of flowers I was holding in my hand. I had brought a mix of roses and daisies and irises, and kept the flowers close to my face so they would hide the tears in case he was around, watching me.

I knew where he was buried. And he was right in mentioning it. There was a reason I hadn’t come before.

But I was ready now.

When I walked up, I shivered again.

Then I placed the flowers on the grave, said a soft prayer, gliding my fingers over the stone.

Over Jesse’s name.

THE END

The adventure continues…

44 Book Five

Coming soon

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Like her main character, Jools Sinclair lives in Bend, Oregon. She is currently working on
44 Book Five.

Learn more about Jools Sinclair

and the
44
series at…

JoolsSinclair44