Aftermath (10 page)

Emma's Story

The afternoon sped by.

Before I knew it, classmates staying at the campground said goodbye. Even though I wasn’t sure when—or, if—I’d see them again, it wasn’t a tear-jerking send off. I would miss my soccer teammates, but I didn’t really like Aimee Wilkinson and her posse of clones.

After a typical parental lecture from Mr. Warner about not drinking and no co-habitation when we returned, we were free to go to the island bonfire. Lewis started the engine, Matt untied the ropes, and Frank helped Melissa, Jenna, and me into the boat.

The sun sank into the tree line as we docked on the sandbar, and the guys secured the boat to a nearby tree. A group of people, about my age, sat on boulders surrounding an oversized pit with roaring fire. The comforting smell of burning wood filled the air.

“Glad you could make it,” Drew said. Lewis introduced everyone, but Drew barely glanced at us girls. “Good timing. Fireworks are at sunset.”

“Fireworks on Labor Day?” Frank questioned. “I thought that was only done on the Fourth of July.”

“You bastards never had fireworks on Labor Day?” Drew asked.

Frank smirked, and Matt shook his head.

“Hey, man… Us bastards spend a lot of money in your little hick town.” Lewis chuckled.

“Spoken like a true rich boy,” Drew answered and nudged Lewis. Laughter erupted between them, and I realized they must have known each other for years to put up with the friendly banter. “So you seriously don’t have fireworks for Labor Day?”

Frank shook his head this time.

“The fireworks are actually a lake thing,” I intervened. All eyes turned to me. Even Drew, who barely noticed me before, stared. I felt my cheeks warm, but I continued anyway. “The Inn sponsors them. They started it back when it was a dormitory for factory employees, way before it was a resort. Now it’s an annual tradition… There’s an employee appreciation party tomorrow. This is the kick off.”

“How’d you know that?” Drew asked. His blank stare and arrogant nod made me feel uncomfortable, and I suddenly lost my voice.

“Her aunt owns the place, man. You didn’t know that?” Lewis answered. “Joke’s on you.”

Drew shook his head and smiled.

I eased into a grin. For the first time since I could remember, I wasn’t the poor Highland Park kid on Cavell Street. Instead, I was one of the rich kids.

If only Aimee Wilkinson could see me now.

“Let’s party!” Frank said. “Where’s the beer?”

Drew pointed toward some tall grasses. “Cooler’s down that path, around the bend. You’ll see it.”

As I glanced in the path’s direction, Prince Charming came toward us, a beer in hand. I looked away before I got busted staring again.

“Want something? Water?” Matt asked. “I mean, I know you don’t drink—”

“I’ll take a beer,” I answered quickly. “I mean, why not? Everyone else is.”

Matt looked stunned, but he didn’t say anything. He and Frank took off down the path and passed out beers a few minutes later. The guys continued chatting about everything and nothing that mattered, at least to me, anyway.

“Come on.” Melissa pointed to an open boulder near the fire, and Jenna and I followed. Jenna spread out a blanket on the sand, while Melissa and I shared the oversized rock.

“Check him out,” Jenna said, referring to the dark-haired guy I called Prince Charming.

“I know. I saw him at the rental office,” I whispered back. When I looked in his direction, he looked up. Our eyes met for an instant before I turned away. “He’s got a girlfriend,” I added, remembering the brunette that looked like she belonged on the cover of the
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition
, not on the shores of Lake Bell.

“Too bad,” Jenna responded. For the tiniest of moments, I felt like I knew him. Like it wasn’t the first time I saw his face at a campfire. But for the life of me, I couldn’t recall a time that I’d ever see him before today, or when I’d ever been on the island, especially at a bonfire.

“Hey, what about Frank?” Melissa asked. We watched Frank slam a beer as if in competition with Drew, and then crush the can in his hand. “Ah, never mind.” When I looked back at my prince again, the same feeling returned. I felt déjà vu a few times in my life, mostly here at the lake, if I remembered correctly. But I never figured out what was so familiar.

“Yeah. I know.” Jenna laughed. She popped open her beer and raised it. “Cheers,” she said and clinked cans. I chugged a big gulp of Coors Light. It bubbled and burned down my throat. I didn’t like beer, but I kept up appearances anyway.

By the time Matt, Lewis, and Frank joined us at the fire, my drink was almost gone and I felt completely relaxed.

“You okay?” Matt asked, as Jenna eagerly accepted another beer.

“Yeah.” I couldn’t tell him how I really felt. Could I?

“You’re not mad or something, are you?”

I shook my head and realized my vision was a bit blurred.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for my hand.

“Where we going?” I asked when I stood.

He smiled. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Okay,” I answered.

He stared at me, not blinking. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I smiled weakly. There was everything wrong. I just wasn’t mad.

He leaned down and kissed me gently. I wasn’t used to public displays of affection. I could feel my cheeks burn before our lips parted.

Matt held my hand and led me down the beach. It was quiet and secluded where Lewis docked. Matt helped me inside the boat and then climbed in behind me. He pulled two beers out of his sweatshirt pocket and placed them in cup holders between the front seats.

“Want one?” he asked, popping open one for himself.

I shook my head.

He took a drink and sat down.

Away from the fire, with the sun fully set, I shivered and wished I wore jeans instead of shorts. I took a seat beside Matt and tucked my legs beneath me. An explosion of color in the sky distracted me from the chill in the air.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he said, pointing to the starbursts in red and blue above us.

I agreed. His eyes never met mine, as he took another drink.

Popping sounds echoed in the dark before shades of pink spread across the sky, illuminating the boats parked beside us. A silver pontoon with a raised fishing chair, a couple of Jet Skis, and a shiny, new-looking ski boat lined the shoreline. Minutes passed as we watched the fireworks and listened to the “oohs” and “ahs” let out by friends and strangers at the fire pit nearby. The quietness between splashes of light was both peaceful and uncomfortable.

Was it me? Why was being with him suddenly so awkward?

When the grand finale rumbled above us and the sky brightened in rainbow colors, Matt finished his beer and put his arm around me.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little.” A lot, actually.

Matt stood up quickly and returned with two blankets in hand. He wrapped one around me and tossed the other on the seat. “Better?”

I nodded.

When he sat back down, he put his arm around me again and gave me a kiss.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry earlier,” he said.

I looked away. I didn’t want to think about earlier—or the day before, or the day before that. I didn’t want to remember why I cried.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled.

Matt lifted my chin and shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

His apology was simple and touching, but it wasn’t his fault I was a sobbing mess the past few days. “I’m going to miss you,” I whispered.

“Me, too,” he answered. The air thickened between us in the quiet, dark night. When Matt kissed me again, he didn’t pull back. Instead, he moved me into his lap. I tasted beer on his tongue, as the kiss intensified. His hand wandered to my back and even though I was kissing Matt with the same energy I used to, it wasn’t the same and I wasn’t into it.

Things weren’t supposed to be like this.

I fidgeted, but Matt didn’t notice.

I shouldn’t be thinking of moving and leaving my friends behind. My mind shouldn’t be filled with thoughts of the recent days and past memories of Dad and my life in Highland Park. I should be ecstatic to be on the senior trip, to be here, alone with Matt. But I wasn’t.

Would everything really be all right?

It was what everyone whispered when they went through the receiving line at Dad’s funeral. “You’ll see. It’ll all work out.” Except, I didn’t really believe that.

The rev of an engine startled us, ending our kiss abruptly. A Jet Ski sped off into the lake, and the quiet returned. A bit of relief came over me.

“You’re crying again,” Matt said, wiping the tears from my cheek. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, and that I didn’t mean to ruin the moment, when I glanced up at him, I could tell he already knew. “This is it, isn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded and stared at my lap.

“Maybe we can visit. It’s only two hours,” he said. His tone was weak.

“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed. Even though the words were said aloud, we both knew it was over. He pulled me close for one last goodbye.

***

A distant ring woke me the next morning. Light peered through the partially opened blinds. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust and realize I was in the guest room of Lewis’ home. Melissa was on the phone. When she ended the call, she nudged Jenna.

“Wake up,” Melissa said. “My mom’s gonna be here in a minute.”

“Already?” Jenna whined from under the pillow.

I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was almost nine-thirty. Crap. Aunt Barb said something about errands this morning. I reached for my phone, as it buzzed with a text from her.

“What time’s your aunt coming?” Melissa asked.

“Um… she’s here. I guess,” I answered and cleared my throat. I was barely awake. Memories of the night before came back hard—the tears shed with Matt, then the beer I decided to chug after we rejoined our friends at the bonfire. We stayed out late, and I was exhausted.

By the time I got downstairs, Aunt Barb was having coffee with Mrs. Warner in the gourmet kitchen, and Melissa’s mom was waiting in the car. Jenna said goodbye and gave me a hug before she walked out the door, tears streaming down her face.

I fought back my own tears and turned toward Melissa.

“I’m not saying goodbye,” she said firmly. “I’m spending the weekend with you when you’re back to officially move. So, I’m just saying see you later. Okay?”

I nodded, tears now flowing freely. Melissa squeezed me tight, then turned quickly and left without looking back. Aunt Barb wrapped her arm around my shoulder and stood with me, as I watched my friends climb in the car and drive away.

“Come. Let’s get your things,” Aunt Barb whispered. She chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Warner while I picked up my bag and wondered where Matt was. After thanking them for their hospitality, I got up the courage to ask.

“Oh, dear. The boys left already,” Mrs. Warner answered.

“They left?” I was confused.

“Well, yes. They had football practice this morning.” She glanced at her watch and continued, “About eight-thirty this morning, but I’ll let Lewis know you said goodbye.”

“Yes. Thanks.”

I choked back the sadness I felt.

Ben's Story

The walls in my bedroom were builder bland and boring.

Marty McMann bought the model home on the tenth hole of the Carmichael Golf Course five years earlier, when her undercover sleeper assignment began.

Marty was Barbara Carmichael’s executive assistant and my aunt in our cover story. She was willing to let Claire, my undercover sister, and I live with her. At least, that was the story we told humans.

I touched the cream-colored wall and watched a caramel shade spread outward, floor to ceiling and around the room. As it reached the cherry wood trim, I realized it was wrong. I rubbed my hands together for a second, trying to visualize a better color choice, and then touched the wall again. An ugly light brown spread outward in a similar pace.

As the color finished flooding the walls, Claire stood in the open doorway. “Hey, you painted!” she said, glancing around the room.

“I painted?” I was stunned by her enthusiasm. Could a rookie be so naïve?

“It’s a great color.”

“Great?” Melted chocolate ice cream looked good in a parfait glass, with remnants of hot fudge and a sprinkling of chopped nuts, but it looked terrible on walls, especially in my room. I could feel the heat emanating from her embarrassment before I saw her cardinal-red face.

“I just… I, ah.” Claire stumbled over her words. She’d have to get over the intimidation she felt around me before our classmates sensed it.

“Ben, are you embarrassing poor Claire already?” Marty stepped into my room, and then looked around. “Horrible color. I hope you’re planning on changing it.”

“We were just talking about that. Good timing, Marty,” I said, touching my finger to the wall again. A gray-toned taupe spread around the room, covering the past shade.

“Much better.” Marty smiled. She was sixty-two years old in human years. It was her age when she died, back in April of 1966, the age she preferred to be undercover. She was a bubbly woman with a lot of spunk. “What do you think, Claire?”

“What?” Claire asked aloud, but her thoughts were swirling. “How… how did you do that?”

“Oh, honey, how long have you been in the field?” Marty put her arm around Claire.

“Well, um… this is my first assignment… outside of training,” Claire reluctantly answered. Claire was thirty-one years old when she died in 1944. It was a breach of contract, which was not looked upon favorably in my world. Souls that returned to my world prematurely endured decades of rehabilitation and counseling before new lives or assignments would be considered.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Claire’s inexperience would be a comic relief on this assignment. Much better than the serious, violent missions I’d grown accustomed to.

“Now that you’re both here… Barbara Carmichael invited us to her cookout this afternoon. Well, I should say, I’ve gone for years, but she’s extended an invitation to both of you,” Marty said matter-of-factly. She carried herself younger than the age on her fake birth certificate. Her hair curled out at the tips, barely touching her shoulder. The various shades of gray mixed with blonde gave her a youthful appearance that humans her age envied.

“I’ve got plans,” I answered.

“What? You’re not going?” Claire questioned. Her thoughts were more confident now. She didn’t have Molly’s humor. I could see that. I’d have to be more careful not to offend her.

“That’s fine,” Marty said.

“Well, if you’re not going, it wouldn’t look right for me to go,” Claire replied. “At least you’ve met Emma.”

I shrugged. I didn’t care if Claire went or not. “Where have you been, anyway?”

“I spent the night with my new group of friends.” Claire put her hand on her hip and shot me a smirk. “Hannah Lambert invited me over.”

“Hmm. Good to see you’re fitting in.”

“What happened to you last night? You left before the fireworks were over,” Claire commented.

“Actually, they were over when I left. And, trust me, I saw enough.”

“Well then, if you two kids aren’t going, I’ll just tell Ms. Carmichael you had plans,” Marty intervened.

A beep from a car horn in the driveway interrupted us. It was Lucas, the kid I met on the lake the day before. We agreed to spend the day Jet Skiing again and considering there was something about him that bothered me, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Being an immortal had its perks, but there were limitations when I was undercover in human form. Namely, I could only hear current thoughts or conversations. I couldn’t retrieve memories from humans, unless there was skin-to-skin contact.

Even though Lucas and I spent several hours together, I didn’t have a chance to shake his hand. A handshake was the fastest, most universally accepted hand-to-hand contact that offered the proper amount of time to download a human’s records. Well, for most humans, that was.

Not only did a handshake download recollections of special events and transcripts of prior conversations, it also gave me the network of relationships that person experienced during their life.

In the case of the Lucas Crandon, it was that network I guessed to be disjointed. It wasn’t that I just disliked Lucas. There was something different about him, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Not yet, at least. His thoughts were limited, mostly of girls, parties, and Jet Skiing. And in most of those, he put himself high on a pedestal. The boy certainly had an ego.

“Hey, Lucas! Thanks for picking me up,” I said, extending my hand toward him.

When he shook it, I began to understand. “No problem. Ready?”

I nodded. “Let the fun begin.”