Certainty (11 page)

When the lights went out I could hear the clock ticking down the hall.

Unable to sleep, I slid out of my covers and got down on my knees. I prayed for Derek and my parents and then I got back in bed, thinking about what was going to happen.

Everything is going to be okay, if it isn’t okay, it’s going to be okay.
The thought was so clear to me that I opened my eyes. I stared straight ahead and lay there trying to figure out what it meant. I wasn’t afraid anymore, which was weird. I should be, shouldn’t I? But I wasn’t. All the uncertainty and fear of this afternoon faded away, and I slept.

CHAPTER NINE

Ren

I tacked up my last poster and looked at my room. If any of my friends from California could see it they’d get some minor déjà vu.

I arranged everything exactly the way it was in my old room. My bed against the wall, my dresser next to the door, my pictures and posters all in the same place. There are a few things in life that don't change, and whatever I can glue down and make permanent, I will.

My surfboard was stacked up in the garage with all the other boxes we probably won’t open for another couple of years. I miss California so much it hurts.

The girls were sacked out in their rooms. They were fighting and driving me crazy all morning until Mom made them take a nap. We stayed up late going to Chuck E. Cheese for their birthday last night and everybody paid for it, unfortunately. Next time we should go in the afternoon.

Dad was at work but he was coming home in an hour. It sucks to grow up and work on Saturday.

I was at the bottom of the stairs when I heard the tires screech and a car crashing. It sounded like it was right in front of our door. I ran out and found MacKenzie's brother lying in the street. His body was limp and his eyes were closed, blood starting to run from his forehead. Suddenly everything I knew about Derek made terrible sense.

The driver was already out of the car, kneeling next to Derek's body. He looked up at me. He was my age, and he was scared.

"I think I killed him," he whispered, his face pale under his tan and his hands shaking. His car was still in the middle of the narrow street, one end crunched into a parked car where he must have tried to avoid hitting Derek at the last moment. Small bits of glass from his broken headlight were scattered on the street.

I did not need to feel Derek's pulse to know he was alive--I could still see the “
Yurei
” Derek. I'd met him once already, but he'd reappeared again. He was a tall man, darkly handsome with a peculiar vacant look in his eyes. Derek's future had not changed, at least not the future that had always been there for him.

For the stunned driver's sake I put my fingers on Derek's pulse and reassured him that Derek was alive. "He's got a pulse," I told him. I couldn't say any more than that. What I knew wouldn't comfort him very much.

The stricken look on his face did not change, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Derek.

My mother came running out with her cell phone in her hand. She was putting on a sweater as she ran, her hair falling out of the loose ponytail. She called 911, kneeling next to the driver and Derek. She looked up at me as we knelt there, her eyes going to the driver.

She put a hand on his shoulder as she made the call, but he didn’t look at her.

“Mom,” I said. “I’m going to get Derek’s parents.”

The driver put his head in his hands. I wondered if he knew Derek. It seemed like everyone at school did.

I crossed the street to MacKenzie's house, hoping she wasn't there.

She wasn't, but her father and her little brother were. Her father towered over me when he answered the door, tall and broad-shouldered. He might have been intimidating, but I knew that like everyone else, he would change as he got older, his big shoulders bowing with age and his body softening.

His eyes registered disbelief as I stood and explained about the accident. He and James had not heard the crash because the television was turned up too loud. James clutched a bag of Cheetos with orange fingers, peeking out from behind his Dad’s back.

Mr. Warren told James to stay on the other side of the street and ran over to kneel beside Derek. My mom went back into our house and brought some towels to help stop the bleeding on Derek's head. MacKenzie’s dad was a big man, but his hands touched Derek's head carefully, as if he were afraid he'd hurt him.

It seemed to take forever for the police and ambulance to arrive. I wondered if the seconds that ticked away were the reason Derek would suffer brain damage.

The driver's name was Kyle, and he had only received his license four months ago. My mom called Kyle's parents and they arrived at the same time the ambulance did. His parents came in separate cars, his mother in a Mercedes and his father in slick black Audi.

The EMT's loaded Derek into the ambulance, still unconscious. They closed the door and I turned to MacKenzie’s Dad. He was watching the ambulance drive away, his arms hanging at his sides and a stunned look on his face. I could tell he didn't think this could be real.

James watched from the curb across the street, his hands wrapped around his knees, his eyes wide and intent, recording everything.

I saw his
Yurei
and it was not a surprise. His future was being defined right now, with the ambulance sirens wailing and the flashing lights taking his brother away.

Kyle’s shoulders shook as he said he was sorry to MacKenzie’s father, choking on the words. The police officers waited patiently for Kyle to calm down so they could ask him about the accident but it took a long time. Out of everyone on that street, his future was the only one that frightened me. I knew Derek's future--I'd been grappling with it since I met him. But Kyle's future was even bleaker. He had none.

CHAPTER TEN

MacKenzie

Granpop drove us back to the hospital the next morning. My parents had called to tell us Derek was awake and we could see him. I wanted to take a shower but we didn’t have our clothes. James, of course, didn’t care about that.

We met my parents outside Derek’s room. They wore the same clothes they had yesterday, just like James and I. Dad’s stubbly beard was getting darker and Mom looked tired.

“Hi guys", Dad said and hugged us. His beard scraped my cheek, and it was oddly comforting.

“How’s Derek?” James asked before Granpop or I could.

Mom smiled, and it was genuine. “He’s going to be all right.”

“Can we see him now?” I asked.

Dad hesitated, “Yes, but he’s got some bruising and he’s having trouble speaking. The doctors say it will probably get better with time, though. It might just be because of the injury.”

Dad took James and I in first while mom waited outside with Granpop. We weren’t supposed to bring in too many people at a time.

We passed other rooms where patients were sleeping or talking with their visitors.

I saw the edge of Derek’s bed first, his feet covered in white hospital blankets. Derek lay with his eyes closed, an IV taped to wrist and running up to an IV bag. His face was mottled with a black bruise that went from his forehead to his cheek. I felt my stomach go weak.

“He’s okay, James,” I heard my Dad say, and he had his arms around James’ chest.  James looked at Derek with wide, frightened eyes.

Derek opened his eyes and looked at us. I stared back, searching for some sign that he recognized us.

“Hi.” Derek said, but his eyes were dazed, as if he wasn’t sure where he was.

“Hi Derek. How are you?” I said.

He gave a little smile and moved the hand without the IV, waving it towards his head. “This plastic…the plastic is …on me.”

Confused, I looked over at my dad, but he only answered, “Your head?”

Derek waved his hand. “Yeah, the plastic got me.”

James looked up at my Dad and then back at Derek. “What plastic?”
             
             
Derek frowned. “That words…it’s out.”

I could tell Derek knew what we were saying, but he couldn’t reply back, at least, not in a way that made sense.

“You
look better than I expected,”
I said, as cheerfully as possible. “For getting hit with a car.”

Derek smiled, closing his eyes. “That was noise. It made this…” he furrowed his brows. “In here.” He opened his eyes and waved around the room.

“Yep. Now you’re in the hospital.” I glanced at Dad and he gave me a thumbs-up sign.

“I don’t think we can fix your bike,” James said.

Derek gave a small lau
gh and winced. “No, no. You…”
He waved. “At
the house…” He sighed and said, “It’s not.”

I had no idea what he was trying to say and I could tell Dad didn’t either. Frustrated, I tried to think what he would say, but I couldn't.

I reached out and put my ha
nd over his. “Get better soon.
Without you my brain will melt from watching 'Say Yes to the Dress' all day.”

He squeezed my hand back but he didn’t try to say anything, looking back at me with his empty gaze. I don’t think he understood what I said.

When we came out of Derek’s room, Mom was waiting with Granpop. She searched our faces.

“He looks a little scary right now,” she said to James.

His eyes watered and his mouth trembled. I put my arm around him. He s
tarted to wipe his tears away,
but then mom hugged him and he buried his face in her arms.
             

Granpop put a tanned, weathered hand on James’ head. “It’s all right, son.”

“I’ll take them home and then come back to give you a break,” Dad said to Mom, his face a mixture of pain and stoic determination.

Mom agreed and James and I left with Dad. The three of us stepped out of the hospital into the cold sunlight, the wind sweeping in across the parking lot and chilling me through my sweat-shirt. As we walked past the rows of brightly gleaming cars I thought about Derek and the way he looked at me.  At first I thought he was dazed, but it was more than that. I couldn't put my finger on it but it was as if only part of Derek was staring back at me. I shivered and pushed away my alarm.

I had to be positive. He needed time to recover and then it would be all right. And what about my feelings last night after I prayed? Everything was going to be okay. Then I remembered the rest of it.

Even if it isn't okay
.

No. Derek was going to come back, he had to. We needed him to.

I ran and caught up with Dad and James. Dad clicked the key fob to unlock his Explorer and James and I got in.

I let James have the front seat. The faint smell of grease and grass was comforting. Dad turned the key and the truck grumbled to life, as did the radio. Dad turned it down and pulled out of the parking space. James stared out the window and so did I. We were all thinking the same thing, I knew. Would Derek ever be the same?

On the way home Dad bought us lunch at and we ate in the car, the sun baking us through the closed windows. The food woke us up a little, enough for Dad and James to play Punch Buggy. I tried but I'm not as quick to spot the "buggies".

We got home and I took a shower. Afterwards I finally checked my phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in and sat on the couch to go through my texts. There was a number I didn’t know with the text,
Hi its ren is Derek ok?

I immediately hit reply, wondering how he knew my number. Probably from Katie.
Yes sort of

What day was it? It must be Sunday—time had blurred. Normally my family would go to church, but not today. It felt like Saturday, or maybe some strange extra day of the week.

My phone buzzed right away and I checked it. It was from Ren.
I'm glad he's ok.

“Kenzie,” my Dad came in the living room, showered and dressed, and even shaved, wearing a navy polo and some crisp khakis. “I’m going back to the hospital so your mom can get some rest. Take care of James, for me, all right?”

“Sure.” I could hear the shower running, which surprised me. Usually Mom and Dad have to threaten to cut off James’ allowance before he will take a shower. My dad turned to go and I stopped him.

“Dad?  You said the driver was young. What was his name?”

“Kyle Worthington. He’s barely seventeen.”

Dad must have seen the shock on my face because he asked, “Did you know him?”

“Yes. He’s in my homeroom.” I sat there, absorbing the improbable—or not so improbable. “He must be freaked out,” I said, finally.

Dad sighed and put his hands in his pockets, a little of his farmer’s tan showing under his polo sleeves. “He was. I told him we knew it was an accident and we weren’t angry at him. He kept saying he was sorry.”

“Wow.” I stared at Dad, thinking of how scary it would be to hit someone. I would hate myself. “That’s horrible. For Derek and Kyle.”