Rewind
Authors: Peter Lerangis
Peter Lerangis
For Bethany
With Countless Thanks
WATCHERS
Case file: 6791
Name: Adam Sarno
Age: 14
First contact: 54.35.20
Acceptance:
They’re gone.
1It’s time.
A
DAM FELT COLD.
C
OLD
and alone. Darkness had swallowed the woods. His path was vanishing fast.
“Guys?”
The word died in the air, swept away by a shriek of north wind. Above him, branches waved wildly in the moonlight, clattering like old, brittle bones.
This was a stupid idea, Sarno.
He shouldn’t have agreed to play laser tag. Especially here. Especially at this time of year, when the reminders were so strong.
He tried not to think of what had happened. It was four years ago. He had to get over it. He couldn’t avoid the lake his whole life.
Thump.
Adam’s heart nearly stopped.
“Ripley?” he called out. “Lianna?”
No answer.
Maybe they were hiding from him. Listening to his voice. Laughing at how it sounded. Timid. Scared. So very
Adam.
(
Adam is a wimp
…)
Or maybe they’d left already. The lovebirds running off, not telling anyone.
Okay, fine.
No problem.
I know these woods.
I am ten blocks from home.
He slung his laser gun over his shoulder. To his right, the woods disappeared into blackness. To his left, the moon peeked through the trees, dimly lighting a path toward the lake. He could follow the trail along the bank to the big clearing, where his bike was.
No.
Stay away from the lake.
Adam ignored the thought. He was older now. Too old to be afraid.
It was only a memory.
Memories couldn’t hurt you.
As he trudged to the lake, his heart began to race.
Warning signs were legible even in the faint moonlight:
DANGER! THIN ICE! DO NOT ENTER UNDER PENALTY OF LAW
!
Adam glanced beyond the signs. The lake looked remote. Unfriendly.
The last time he was on the lake, the signs didn’t exist. You could sneak onto the ice and no one bothered you.
But the last time was four years ago. A January afternoon.
He did sneak onto the ice that day. To practice hockey.
Don’t think about this now. Turn away.
But Adam’s eyes fixed on a distant spot on the snow-dusted ice. In line with a clump of pine trees at the opposite bank.
That was where it had happened.
Lianna had been there. She had come along with—
Don’t.
With Edgar.
Edgar didn’t want to practice. I forced him.
They were ten. The hockey net was heavy, and no one was helping Adam set it up. Edgar was skating around, teasing Adam (
showing off for Lianna
), challenging him to take away the puck, being a total jerk, and (
I wanted to kill him
) that was it, wasn’t it, that was the reason for the fight (
it’s not my fault
), and when Edgar was pulled out of the hole, he had a big bump on his head (
because it hit the ice
), but Adam couldn’t remember because he’d fallen in, too, and blacked out, and if it weren’t for Lianna he would have died himself, which would have made more sense, because what did poor Edgar do to deserve what he got, a deadly blow to the head from his supposed best friend?
It’s not my fault.
And the next thing Adam remembered, he was in the hospital, screaming (
Edgar! Edgar!
), while the doctors scratched their chins and told him it wasn’t his fault (
they didn’t see it, only Lianna did
), and from then on, everything was different, he couldn’t concentrate, and the kids at school steered clear of him—but the rumors got back (
Adam killed Edgar, whacked him in the head, pushed him in the ice, and left him for dead
), the rumors he ignored even though
they were true, weren’t they?
Stop.
He began to run. Away from the lake. Blindly. His laser pack and coat snagged on brambles, but he didn’t care. He had to get away. He had to go home.
But where’s Edgar? I can’t leave without Edgar.
The thoughts were following him. Taunting him.
Edgar is dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
“Help!”
Adam stopped in his tracks.
The voice was coming from behind him.
Real. And loud. As if reaching across time.
“Adam, help!”
It’s Ripley’s voice, you fool. Ripley, not Edgar.
Adam spun around.
“Adaaaaaaam!”
“Oh my god…” he murmured.
It
wasn’t
over.
It was happening.
Again.
We’ve almost got him.
Unless he gets himself first.
“I
’M COMING!”
Adam’s feet were flying. He sprinted toward the lake, high-stepping over roots and rocks.
“Ripley! Where are you?”
“Die, suckah!”
The light hit him square in the eyes.
Footsteps. Someone was running up to him.
“Uh-oh. Are you okay?”
Adam blinked and looked up. “R-Ripley?”
Ripley Weller was standing over him. His laser pack glowed dully on his chest. “What were you yelling about?”
“It’s just that—I thought you were—you shouted for help—”
“Did you really think I was in trouble?” Ripley grinned, clasping his hands to his heart. “Oh,
Adam.
I didn’t know you
cared
.”
He was alive. And well.
And still a jerk.
“FREEZE!”
Ripley’s smile vanished. He clutched his gun and spun around.
Too late. A direct hit. Right to the center of his pack.
“Yyyyyyes!” Lianna Frazer emerged from the trees, pumping her fists in triumph. “The winner and new Vermont champion!”
“It was a time-out,” Ripley said. “Adam was wounded.”
“Yeah, right. I killed you!” Lianna turned to Adam. “You’re my witness, Adam. Didn’t I kill him?”
Kill him.
Adam’s teeth were chattering. “I guess.”
Ripley shot Adam a look of disgust. “Thanks a lot. You
always
agree with her, Sarno.”
“Only when I’m right,” Lianna said.
“Lianna’s own personal slave.” Using two different simpering, high-pitched voices, Ripley chanted: “ ‘Nice day, Adam.’
‘Yes, Lianna.’
‘Do my homework, Adam?’
‘Okay, Lianna.’
‘Jump off a cliff for me?’
‘Right away, Lianna.’
”
“Cram it, Weller.” Lianna turned and walked away, glancing briefly at Adam.
Say something. Don’t just stand there.
Words tumbled around in Adam’s head. Defenses. Insults. But they were lame. Ripley would easily swat them aside.
“Not that I blame you, Adam,” Ripley said with a smirk. “I mean, hey, if it weren’t for her, you’d be a stiff at the bottom of the lake like what’s-his-name.”
Lianna spun around.
“Stiff?”
“Corpse, whatever,” Ripley replied uneasily.
“Never. Speak. About him. Like that. Again.”
With each word, Lianna advanced on Ripley, backing him up until he was trapped against a tree.
“It was a joke,” Ripley protested.
Lianna pressed her face close to his. “Edgar died that day. He was Adam’s best friend. You didn’t live around here back then. You don’t know what any of us went through. My advice to you is
watch your mouth.
”
“Fine.” Nodding nervously, Ripley slipped away.
Adam forced his gaping jaw shut.
He’d never seen Lianna like this.
She defended me.
Brave Lianna rescues Adam the Wimp.
I will never, ever hear the end of this.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
But Lianna wasn’t paying attention to him. She was staring at the lake. In the reflected moonlight, Adam could see her face slacken. A slight change, something no one would notice. No one but Adam.
She was thinking about it.
The accident.
“It was four years ago Saturday,” Adam said softly.
Lianna shot him a look.
“I know this is crazy,” Adam continued, “but when I heard Ripley yelling, I thought it was Edgar.”
Lianna nodded and turned away. “Let’s go, Adam. What’s past is past.”
She jogged off, her footfalls echoing in the cold, dry air.
Adam stole one last look at the lake.
That’s all it was. A body of water.
The rest was just memory. Brain waves.
Nothing more.
Lianna was turning off the lake path now, onto the narrow trail that led toward the clearing.
Adam ran to catch up. But as he veered onto the trail, something yanked at his foot.
He stumbled to the ground. Wrapped around his ankle was the strap to a small backpack.
“Wait up!” he cried.
Adam pulled the strap away. The pack was small but heavy.
In a moment his two friends were running toward him.
“Eeek. Kill it before it multiplies!” Ripley speared his laser rifle through the straps, lifting the backpack off the ground.
“Leave it,” Lianna said.
“No way,” Ripley shot back. “Let’s look for ID. Send it back to the owner.”
“Anonymously, right? With just some of the valuables missing?” Lianna snatched the pack from his rifle.
“Give it back!” Ripley protested. “Finders keepers.”
“Adam was the finder,” Lianna reminded him.
“Oh, and he won’t steal a
thing
, right?” Ripley said mockingly. “Because he’s such a good boy.”
Out.
It was time to get out of the woods. This argument was ridiculous. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me. You take it, Ripley. I don’t mind.”
Lianna shoved the backpack into Adam’s hands. “
Mind
, Adam,” she said wearily. “Stand up for the right thing once in a while.”
With that, she and Ripley headed for the clearing.
Clutching the backpack, Adam followed.
He felt about two feet tall.
He has it.
3Let’s hope he knows what to do with it.
R
IPLEY’S HOUSE.
Adam still had trouble calling it that.
The Wellers had lived there for three and a half years. They had replaced the windows. Built an extension. Widened the driveway and relandscaped the lawn.
But Adam saw the old things. The wall that Edgar and Adam had helped paint. Edgar’s basketball hoop, still hanging on the garage. The outline of the name
HALL
on the mailbox where the letters had been removed.
To Adam, it was still Edgar’s house.
Even now, as Ripley rode up the driveway, Adam imagined his old friend standing and waving good-bye.
Stop.
What’s past is past.
He and Lianna waved back, then began to pedal away.
“Sorry I yelled at you before,” Lianna said.
“Well, Ripley got it much worse than I did.” Adam smiled. “I didn’t realize you still had a temper.”
“When he said that about Edgar, I freaked. Especially after what
you
said, about hearing Edgar’s voice.”
“It wasn’t only hearing,” Adam replied. “I thought I was
seeing
the accident. Like a flashback.”
“Adam, that is weird.”
“I still have nightmares, too. All the time. Strong ones, where everything is so clear.”