Backwards (12 page)

So if fear caused what I feared, then maybe the only solution was to be fearless. Instead of changing things in small ways, I needed to do something big and daring. I needed to take over completely, at least for a little while — then I could fix things. And why not? If I could control the zombie for a few minutes, why not a few hours? Or days? Or longer?

Granted, the notion of forcing Dan out of his life seemed questionable. But then I thought of how many people he’d hurt. His mom and sister would never recover from finding him dead in the tub, and he’d mess things up for Cat and burn down her secret house. For all practical purposes, his life was over. So what did it matter if I stepped in? I certainly couldn’t make things worse. He might even thank me for taking control. And the messages did seem to be encouraging me in this direction. The only thing holding me back was fear.

I stared at his slack face and made up my mind.

From here on out, Dan’s life would be mine.

That’s what I found written on the wall beneath the calendar when Dan woke up. I made him brush his hand over the letters, feeling the indentations and scratches in the drywall. He still seemed sleepy and detached. I calmed him some by pressing the calendar flat to cover the words the way I’d seen him do.

I’d watched Dan perform his morning routine enough to go through all the usual motions. To an observer, it probably looked as if nothing had changed, yet now I felt every action more intensely — the heat of the water as he showered, the steam in his lungs, the soft caress of the towel against his skin. It was glorious. The more I did, the more Dan detached. He protested a little when I began to style his hair differently, combing it into neat rows (mostly because I loved the feel of the comb on his freshly washed head), but then I brushed his hands through his hair, giving him the typical “I just woke up and don’t care about style” look, and Dan settled back again.

As I dressed, I thought about the new message on the wall. The fact that it had changed this morning, right after I’d made up my mind to take over, seemed more than coincidence. It seemed like a sign.
YOU ARE NOT WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE
could mean I wasn’t simply a rider sent here to help others. Perhaps I’d been destined to make this life mine. In time I might even get to be with Cat. I could stay with her and hold her and make her happy.

The very notion made me tremble, causing Dan’s hands to fumble with his shoelaces — that’s how firmly I connected to him now. The more certain I became of my purpose, the more solid my hold over his body became.

The aroma of coffee dazzled my senses when I entered the kitchen. I wanted to taste some, but I knew Dan would object. He hated coffee. Then again, if this was going to be my life, I couldn’t be afraid of him. I focused on walling Dan off and keeping him detached. Then I leaned over the pot and inhaled deeply. The lush coffee smell made me think of Cat. This same scent clung to her hair and clothes.

Dan’s mom came in and frowned at me.

“Good morning,” I said. “Sleep well?”

She stopped in her tracks and gave me a suspicious look. “Did you break something?”

“I don’t think so.” I looked around for a plate or glass I might have knocked over.

“Do you need money?” she continued.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “
Do
I need money?”

Dan’s mom filled her coffee mug. “I don’t have time for guessing games, Dan. If there’s something you need to tell me, out with it.”

“I just wanted to tell you good morning,” I said, eager to send some positive energy her way. God knows, she needed it. “Also, I want you to have a good day. You deserve that.”

She narrowed her eyes.
“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I said. Dan grew agitated, making it harder to talk. Things were definitely not going the way I’d intended. “I simply want to express my gratitude for all that
you
do.”

Her expression darkened. Did she think I was being sarcastic?

“I mean it,” I added, only it came out whiny. The more I said, the more suspicious she became. Fortunately, Teagan came in, giving her someone else to focus on.

“Are you leaving?” asked their mom. “You’re not going to have breakfast?”

Teagan hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ll eat something later. One of my friends is picking me up.”

“Who?”

“No one you know.”

“I could give you a ride,” I chimed in. So far, Teagan had done her best to ignore me. “It would be my pleasure,” I continued, although it was getting harder to speak. Dan pressed against me, and I had to fight to keep control.

“Are you high?” asked Teagan.

“I . . . don’t think so,” I stammered.

“I’m not sure I want you hopping in a car with someone I don’t know,” said their mom.

“It’s no big deal,” Teagan said. “Her name’s Tricia and she’s a junior, and I’m not a lesbian, so you don’t have to worry about us making out and driving off a cliff.”

Dan’s mom scowled.

“Tricia is —” I started, but my hold slipped. I tumbled through Dan’s thoughts, suddenly disconnected. Whispers swirled around me, pulling me down.

“Tricia’s what?” asked Teagan. “A bitch?”

No! She’s a good friend,
I said. Only I wasn’t able to make Dan speak. Instead, he let out a strained “Uhhh . . .” sound.

“You’re such a freak-wad.”

“Teagan!” scolded their mom. “Don’t swear at your brother like that.”

“What? Freak-wad?
That’s
swearing?”

Dan kept pushing me back. I gave in, exhausted, and let him take over. The zombie stared at his cereal. I got the sense that both Teagan and their mom expected Dan to say something, but he didn’t. He just stirred the mush around.

“At least take a banana,” said their mom, returning her attention to Teagan. “You need to eat something before school.”

Teagan huffed and grabbed a banana before heading out.

After she left, Dan retreated to his room and calmed down a little. According to the clock by his bed, I hadn’t even managed to control his body for half an hour. If I was going to take over, I had to get better at shutting Dan out. And I had to be careful not to rock the boat too much.

Dan peered inside his backpack before zipping it up. On top of his books, I noticed two figurines.

The White Rabbit.

The Cheshire Cat.

They were the exact same figurines, down to the chipped paint on the White Rabbit’s pocket watch, that Cat would pull out of a shoe box four days from now. I had no idea how they’d gotten into the zombie’s backpack, but I knew they meant something to Cat. So maybe I could give them to her. Thinking this renewed my sense of purpose.

I sank back into the zombie.
You are not who you think you are,
I whispered to Dan.
This isn’t your life. You’ll only mess things up.

Dan looked at the calendar on the wall. I kept repeating the message written there, like a rallying cry.
You are not who you think you are.

The message had more power than anything I could come up with on my own, because Dan had seen it, too. He knew it was real and not just some voice whispering in his head. Gradually, his battered mind soaked up the doubt I fed him and he withdrew. I slipped into the gap, making his body mine again.

I slung his backpack over my shoulder and strode to his car, eager to get to school and find Cat. Giving her the figurines could be the first step to a new relationship. Who knows? Someday Dan might even forget this life had ever been his.

At school, I did my best to follow Dan’s routine, acting like he would. I kept quiet through his classes and didn’t make eye contact with anyone until Dan detached so much I could barely detect him. All the while, I paid attention to every detail around me, savoring the sounds, sights, and smells of school.

By the time lunch rolled around, I felt fairly confident in my control. Dan churned a little when I spotted Cat in the hallway, but I managed to keep him at bay.

“Hi,” I said, seizing the opportunity to talk with Cat.

She clenched her notebook to her chest and stared past me, waiting for someone else.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

“No.” She still wouldn’t meet my gaze. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

A serious lump formed in my throat, making it hard to speak. Any second now, I feared Dan would challenge me for control, but he remained distant. This was my chance.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” I started.

Cat narrowed her eyes, as if this was the biggest understatement of the year.

“But I’ve changed,” I continued, thinking of the message on the wall. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Then, who are you?”

“Someone new. Whoever I used to be, however he — I mean
I
— messed up, I’m not that guy anymore.”

“How original.” She gripped her notebook tighter.

“I’m serious. Things are different now. We can start over.”

Cat finally met my gaze. Perhaps she sensed some truth in my voice. “You can’t just say things are different and have them be different.”

“But I
am
different. You know that I am. Trust me.”

“I did trust you. That’s the problem, Dan.”

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. “I’m. Not. Dan.”

He fought me, but I was ready for him. I tightened my hold on his body and kept going. “Not anymore,” I said, rushing to explain as much as I could before I lost control. “Everything’s changed. Just give me another chance.”

“I can’t,” she said.

I reached for her, desperate to get her to understand. “Cat, please —”

She flinched when my fingers touched her shoulder, but she didn’t pull away. I think she wanted to believe me.

“We can be whatever we like,” I said, echoing her phrase from the other night when she’d painted the house. “Please listen to me. The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

She stepped back. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You okay?” asked Tricia, inserting herself between us. She glared at me like she thought I’d hurt Cat. The very idea repulsed me, but before I could explain, Dan’s thoughts crashed into mine.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
I said, or maybe he said it. In that moment, it was hard to tell. I started to lose track of myself.

Dan shut his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them, Tricia had her arm wrapped protectively around Cat, and they were walking away.

The zombie hadn’t fully taken control yet. He seemed flustered. I found another gap to slip into.

“Wait!” I called. “I have something for you.” I dug into Dan’s backpack and pulled out one of the figurines.

“She doesn’t want it,” Tricia said, steering Cat away.

Fortunately, Cat’s backpack was half unzipped. I dropped the Cheshire Cat in, not daring to speak again.

Cat kept walking. I knew she’d find the figurine later. Tomorrow night she’d tell her friends that she wanted a grin without a cat. Perhaps she meant this — a wish fulfilled before she even made it.

My struggle with Dan had exhausted me, so I took shelter in a vestibule to gather my wits. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and everyone headed to their next classes, but I couldn’t bring myself to face the rush of people in the hall. I waited until things quieted, then tried to recall Dan’s schedule.