Authors: Benjamin Kane Ethridge
He stretched his body out in the sand next to Banch and put his hand on her thigh. “You’ll never know how much it meant to me, what you shared. So much sorrow, but it was you, the whole time. Having so much of your life inside my memories now… it’s a gift like no other. I always wanted a moment with a perfect woman—you gave me countless moments, Banch.”
A small sound bubbled in her throat.
Her eyes were tranquil.
The tide had inched forward a few more feet. It would be quicker than ten minutes—maybe even less than five. Banch’s neck wound had fully closed by now—just a reddish discoloration in the skin. Her head twisted around. The hiss of the tide sounded much louder. Soon. Jared would need to deal with her being gone. But at least he knew it was what she wanted. At least he could finally get something correct for a change. For how he’d held so many other people back—people he cared about, family and friends alike—this was his chance to rise above that. In a way, he was excited at the prospect.
“No…” Banch mumbled.
He startled and tossed his head toward her. “What?”
A rapid gurgling rose from her throat and her face moved again. Jared couldn’t decide whether to be hopeful or full of dread with how quickly her head swiveled and body shook violently. Jared took her arms, bringing them close near her body. She growled and kicked her feet in the sand. He struggled to keep hold of her.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Hold on! The water’s coming.”
“No!” Banch said.
“
No?
”
She caught his wrist with surprising power and brought him close.
“Don’t,” she said. A horrible sound clicked in her throat.
“Shit!” Jared scrambled to his feet. He went behind her, took her under the arms.
The tide washed over Banch’s feet.
“God no!” he shrieked.
Her feet folded into themselves and burst into a bright hot light. Shimmers of clove colored starlight snapped around them.
“I’m disassoc—” Banch retched. “—iating.”
He helped her up and her groan was dreadful enough to taste. “I’m sorry! Hold on! I know where the corridor is.”
Jared’s heart thrummed and punched inside his chest. Dark stars dazzled before him. He could imagine passing out so easily, he began to think he
was
passing out, but he stumbled backward, dragging Banch through the sand. Her lower legs were gone. Her knee caps bubbled with cosmic illumination.
“It’s not far,” he told her. “I can get you there.”
He pulled on her harder, his joints about to give, his heart about to stop. He checked her again. She’d vanished up to the hips, and yet he could still see where her heels made trails through the sand—her legs were invisible but still had physical residence.
“Have to crawl… out of corridor on the other… side… or I’ll be stuck,” she said.
Jared got a better hold on her and stumbled on.
“Almost,” he said, and heaved.
Banch had lost her body up past the belly button and the disassociation continued to climb. He wheeled her around and aimed her at the wash of auburn shadow on the sand. The flesh vanished just at her collarbone.
He had no time for a final goodbye and pushed her into the shadow—but couldn’t tell if she’d vanished completely before. The diminutive corridor led just outside the Free Zone. It would only be a matter of crawling a few feet, if his memory of the maps served accurately this time. He wasn’t sure, though, she hadn’t disassociated in the corridor. He prayed not.
Death was far better than eternal limbo.
Either way, Jared realized then he stood on the beach alone. The shadow sealed. He would not see another corridor again unless the way was opened from the other side. In the Free Zone, there were no direct paths back here large enough for a full sized person. Even if Banch made it, she could never come back to this dimension. And she would not risk returning to the Kings’ territories. She’d be captured immediately.
Jared twisted down to the sand to sit.
For better or worse, it was over. And his banshee was gone.
For a time, he watched the waves crashing. He really hoped he’d saved her, but he could never know.
Unless she was waiting for him when he died, making the call.
His heart rumbled in its strange way, as though to answer that morbid thought.
“In three months, will you be there, Banch?” he asked. His eyes went deep into the waves as the sun set. “Will you?”
Kaitlin pulled the car into the space. Robotically, she got out and went to put money in the meter. It was too much of a chore to fish out coins with her prosthetic fingers, so she slid out a debit card and paid for a few hours, though she wasn’t sure she needed that much time. After she got the receipt her nerves got the better of her and she returned to the driver’s seat. She didn’t think she was ready to do this. It would make it real, make her finally face all the feelings about Jared she’d bottled up over the past few years. She brought up an old photo on her phone of them together at Disneyland and couldn’t look at it for very long.
She turned on the radio. The first song that came on was Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin” and she had to turn it off. Tears surfaced in her eyes. So many memories. He’d been such a big part of her life for so long, the loneliness of the last few years felt crushing right now.
Changing the channel she found NPR.
Tune in tonight for our new “Explorations in Science” special in tribute to the three year anniversary of THE EVENT. A panel of physicists and astrophysicists moderated by Neil Degrasse Tyson will discuss the remarkable space-time phenomenon that occurred on our planet and with a special focus on new string theory revisions based on the Event’s epicenter in Southern California. It should—
Kaitlin pushed off the radio. Losing a best friend was bad enough, but remembering that strange day where the bed curtains in her hospital room nearly crushed her wasn’t a particularly great recollection either.
“Shit hell,” she muttered. It made her feel somewhat better and she popped open the door. The salty air wrapped around her. She could do this. The Pacific Ocean filled her vision with its dark blue infinity. Even though she should have expected it, the honk of her car alarm when she armed it made her jump. Again, for the tenth time today, she wondered if she should have brought Shelly. It would have been good to use her woman as a shield, or crutch, or whatever, but Kaitlin supposed she owed it to her old friend to do this alone.
The way to the memorial wasn’t far, even though Kaitlin wished she’d worn different shoes. Shelly had really girled her up, which Kaitlin guessed was an okay thing if it made her fiancée happy, but something had to give, and walking on a beach in Manolo Blahnik pumps had to be one. She slipped them off and walked barefoot through the moist gray sand.
This was the first time she’d been to the memorial and she hadn’t had any expectations, but it was a beautiful space in the sand up past a levee only twenty yards from the ocean. A few people walked down the wooden stairs, softly conversing. Kaitlin gave them a smile and marched up. The garden was meticulously cared for. Every shrub was clipped to perfection and the lawn mowed to an inch high. The eighty-two bronze plaques glinted in the afternoon sun. Kaitlin didn’t have to count them—she’d heard on the news that number enough now for it to be ingrained. She’d also been to another memorial site in Chino Valley, which had been commissioned by the state—that was the larger of the two and more widely visited. This place was a second stop for tourists wanting to pay their respects to those unfortunate people who perished in The Event.
Kaitlin dragged her eyes across the half circle. Each bronze plaque had a different breed of flower growing to represent the individual lives. Once again, these plants were cared for with expert hands. She walked around them and read the names. None of the names rang a bell as far as the biographies she’d seen on TV.
The caretaker’s house opened then. A man came out with a curly haired toddler on his hip. He was telling her what a great job she did on her art project. Kaitlin couldn’t help a small grin. She almost felt easier about being here.
Then the door opened again.
And it was him.
She’d never seen Jared with so much facial hair before, but the thin beard suited him. She tried to control herself but wanted to sob. Just hearing his voice on the phone had almost brought her to hysterics as it was. He’d kept away from her almost exclusively with no real explanation. At first she was angry, and then sad, and then grudgingly accepting. They’d only spoken one Christmas and a couple of her birthdays. When he was completely silent this past year, she’d thought he might be dead. In many ways she’d prepared herself to just consider him gone from her life forever.
He rounded the semi-circle memorial with grace she’d not remembered he possessed. He opened his arms and she ran into them. She wanted to shriek but bit her shaky lip still. They embraced for a few minutes, only listening to each other’s hearts and soft breathing.
“It’s okay, Kait,” he finally said, stroking her hair. “I… I’m sorry it’s been so long. I just had to have time.”
She pulled away from him and looked deep into his eyes, searching.
“It was never about you. Understand?” he asked, putting his hands on top of her shoulders.
When she said nothing, he smiled. “Okay?”
She scratched a few tears away. “Of course, okay. Yes. Thanks for calling me, you jerk.”
He snorted. “Forgive me?”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. They held each other for a few moments more before breaking away and both quietly admiring the memorial. “I love this,” she said. “It was such a big thing, doing this for them. And finding so much success as well. Congratulations.”
“It’s a small thing,” he explained. “The least I can do. We’re here and they are not. I’ve learned we can only control what we can though. Everything else we have to live with.”
“That doesn’t sound like my Jared.”
“You have no idea,” he laughed. “Come on, I need to see the rest of my kids out.”
“Kids?”
“Students.” He playfully tugged her toward the beach house.
“Since when did the West Coast Database Excellence pay enough for you to afford a place like this?”
“They didn’t. I quit there a week after The Event.”
“Then how—”
“I have private investors… let’s just say they are a dedicated group who make sure my every need is taken care of. I don’t take advantage, but some of them have very deep pockets.”
“Must be nice!”
“Uh, yeah!” he said, and they both laughed.
Kaitlin didn’t know how to react when he opened the door to his home. The living room walls had an array of pen and ink drawings, mostly landscapes and ocean scenes, which Jared had always enjoyed. It was a genuine art gallery, something far more sophisticated and complete than any of his previous sketch books might have held. A large rectangular window provided an astonishing vista of the beach. None of this was as shocking as the gathering of tables lined up in a classroom formation. Children and their parents worked on a project together.
“I thought you lived here?” she asked.
He nodded. “I do. Bedroom’s in the back and the kitchen’s on the other side of the studio through that hall there.” He shrugged. “There’s a small dining room, but I manage.”
“So, what is this? I mean, are you an art teacher now?”
“Sort of—I’ve kinda set myself up as an instructor to teach shy kids how to communicate through art. Some of the parents like to join them. You just missed lunchtime in the kitchen. We all make the meals as a group. It’s nice. I really enjoy it.”
“Getting innocent children to cook for you now?”
He slipped his hands into his jean pockets and chuckled. “No, I cook and they help. Sometimes.”
“You? Cooking? This is pretty odd for you, I must say. I’m feeling Twilight Zoney here.”
“It’s not so odd. I’m just playing catch up.”
Kaitlin lowered her voice. “But you don’t even like kids, right?”
He smiled. “I’ve made my peace with them.”
She took another gander around at the quietly focused art workshop. “All day instruction sounds pricey—no wonder those investors signed on.”
“It’s free,” he clarified. “Limited seats, of course. My investors provide me with food and supplies. We do encourage parents to spare something for the families devastated by The Event. There are several charities I vouch for.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape.
He snickered. “You look fucking impressed.”
“I
am
fucking impressed.”
He put his hand on her arm. She put hers over it. “I missed you so much,” Kaitlin told him. “I thought you’d finally given up on me.”
He shook his head with a wry smile and strolled over to one of his drawings and ran a thumb down the side of the black lacquer frame. “I had health issues, Kait. Some serious ones.”
“Jared? You… you what?” She held back a sudden flash of rage. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
He continued to look at the drawing in a stoic, distant manner. The image was a depiction of a building, more like a surrealist skyscraper than the typical terrain and sea tableaux.
“I needed to handle it by myself. If I didn’t, if I let someone hold my hand, I’d never be able to walk on my own. The hospital time was extensive and I was fortunate my investors insisted on helping with the costs. I had three heart bypasses and tried several different chemical therapies to regulate my condition, which is abnormal clotting of the blood. It’s what took dad.”
“That floors me—you wouldn’t call or, or, or even let me know?”
He shrugged and looked down. “I’m sorry. Believe me, I had my hand on the phone a lot these past years.”
“No calls to the Kangjuns either?”
“A couple of times. They’re doing well. In fact…” He pointed across the room. “That’s their niece, Mi-Cha. She’s been coming here the last year with her daughter.”
A beautiful woman glanced up at Jared and smiled. There was something more in her eyes than just politeness.