Perfect (55 page)

from Duvall, not exactly

the most reliable source.

But this time, it seems, he

was right. Conner fell off

a cliff, somewhere out

in the Black Rock Desert.

He was on a wilderness

challenge. Still not clear why.

Not like Conner couldn’t hack

a challenge course. But why

was he there? And did he fall

by accident? On purpose?

Hell, maybe someone pushed

him over. Some pretty rough

kids go on those challenges.

Rougher than Conner, who was

a total prep, if a jock prep.

Was. Hard to use the past tense

when talking about someone

you know. Someone your age.

Someone who could be you,

if things were a little different.

Aubree and I are going to

the wake. I didn’t want

to. Not like Conner and

I were tight or anything.

Plus, dead people give me

the creeps. Too many bad

memories. Ghosts, walking.

But Aubree says we have to.

It’s expected. Everyone will be

there. They’ll talk if we aren’t.

Not Going To Argue

Dad would expect me to go.

Conner and I were teammates,

if not friends. The team will

all be there, for sure. The least

you can do when a teammate

dies is go to his wake.

They’re having it at

the biggest funeral home

in Reno. Aubree was right.

Everyone is here, to judge

by the parking lot. “We have to

park on the street and walk.”

It’s a long few blocks, made

easier by sneaking peeks

at Aubree’s legs, mostly

exposed by the very short

skirt of her black dress.

Everyone is in black except

me. I wore navy blue, just

to shake things up. Oops.

Okay. Cara is not in black.

She’s in a dark red dress

that fits her like skin and

she is beautiful, even in

her obvious grief. Or maybe

because of it. She looks like

a child. Vulnerable. Easy

to hurt. Aubree notices who

I’m staring at. She elbows

me.
Kind of inappropriate.

Maybe. But I still want to

go to her, hold her, despite

her girlfriend (hair no longer

blue) standing so close

there can be no doubt that

they are an item. I turn away,

take Aubree’s hand, and we

go down a far aisle to find

two seats way in the back.

Who sits up front at a wake?

I Watch Who Goes Up Front

Conner’s family. His father,

who walks all bound up,

like if he lets himself sway

at all he might stumble and

fall. Conner’s mother, who

looks straight ahead, no

hint of expression on her

beautiful, sculpted face.

Cara, her own face a carbon

copy. Except hers is sorrow

streaked. Her girlfriend, who

scaffolds Cara. Kendra and

her mother. Shantell, with

some guy I’ve never seen

before. And just in front of

them, a young couple. Maybe

my age. Also strangers, but

apparently not strangers to

Conner. They hold tight to each

other, struggle not to fall apart.

Andre

Strangers

Death gives strangers

common ground

to walk on.

Encounter

obstacles on.

To fall

down and cry on until

it sponges their tears.

Muddied,

they struggle

to pick

themselves up,

clean off the dirt,

stitch their wounds,

and together fight,

no longer strangers,

to get on

with living.

I Never Knew

Conner Sykes or anyone in his family,

I’m only here because

Shantell didn’t want to come alone.

She brought me up front, close to Cara,

who I did meet that one

time. She seems different. Older, touched

by death. Sitting next to her mother, I can

see what she will

look like one day, when she is older still.

It’s an open casket. From here, the boy

inside appears to be

sleeping. Only his mostly colorless face

gives his lifelessness away. He is—was—

younger than I when

he left this earth. He will never marry.

Never have children. Never find his way

back from wherever

it was that he lost himself. He will never

live his dreams, whatever they were.

Did he have them? Lose

them? Can you lose sight of a dream

that you don’t have time to discover?

I think of Grandma Grace,

who will leave this planet soon. Did

she have dreams she never realized?

I will ask her when I go

visit her. I don’t want to see her sick,

but I have to tell her I love her. That

I will miss her. That she

helped make me what I am today.

A dancer. That’s what I am. Only a few

people know it

at this moment. But that’s going to change.

One Of Those People

Is sitting next to me right now. A year

ago, I wouldn’t have

given her a second glance. Wouldn’t have

gotten to know her because she isn’t a classic

beauty. Doesn’t have curves

like Jenna. Isn’t model thin like Kendra.

But she is pretty, and perfect in her own

way, because she knows

who she is and doesn’t pretend to be

anyone else. Doesn’t care who she pleases,

as long as she is good

with herself, and what else really matters?

Shantell has her eyes firmly on her dream.

Is reaching hard for it,

and encouraging me to reach for mine.

Tentatively, I slide my hand over hers.

The Vs between her fingers

notch into mine, and she squeezes.

The Service Starts

With recorded music. Pink singing “Amazing

Grace.” Beautiful and kind

of weird at the same time. Like the singer.

Shantell glances at me, and we share

a smile. She must be

reading my mind. The priest gets up and

spends much too long talking about God’s

plan and how to recognize

it in our own lives. And now the eulogies

begin. Conner’s football coach outlines

his many and varied

records, then laments about talent

the world will never see. Kendra stands,

tries desperately

to put her love for Conner into words.

She only manages a couple before they are

swallowed by sobs.

More than a few people join her in tears.

A half-dozen schoolmates of Conner’s

say how much they’ll

miss him. Finally the priest calls a young

couple to the front. They go forward,

hand in hand.
Hi,

says the auburn-haired girl.
I’m Vanessa.

You don’t know me, but I got to know

Conner in Aspen

Springs. I think Tony and I knew him

better than most of you. Conner was

good at hiding the

scared little boy inside….
At that,

Kendra’s crying becomes almost

hysterical. Her mom

does her best to console her as Vanessa

continues,
Conner couldn’t be what

everyone else wanted

him to be. So he chose the easy way out.

Cara

Death

Is

only

the

easy

way

out

if

you

are

the

one who dies.

At The Red-Haired Girl’s Words

Dad gives a little gasp. Mom barely

flinches. Now the dark-haired boy says,

I’m Tony. And Conner was my friend
.

Maybe the only friend I ever had, except

for one other person. Vanessa and I both