Beyond The Grave. Mara Purnhagen

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СКАЧАТЬ the same instead of sitting back and watching one more person slip away.

      Avery sat on the floor, labeling her bins with a squeaky black marker. “That’s it,” she said. “Last one.” We were quiet for a moment, both of us staring at the containers. Half her life and most of her room was packed inside them. They would be stuffed into the back of her mom’s car and travel six hundred miles north. Six hundred miles away from me.

      “Part of me wishes I wasn’t going,” she said. I looked up, surprised. “I mean, what if I have a crazy roommate? What if the classes are completely over my head? I thought I was ready for this, but now that’s it’s almost here …” Her voice trailed off.

      I fought the urge to say that her concerns were totally justified and that she should stay home and take the year off. Instead, I forced a smile. “It’s going to be great,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about. And you won’t be alone.”

      The day Avery announced her college choice was also the day that Jared revealed that he had been accepted to the same school. He and Avery would be in different dorms, but they would be able to see each other every day.

      “You won’t be alone, either,” Avery reminded me. “And with Shane and Trisha getting married, Noah will be like family.”

      “So I’m dating a relative? Nice.”

      “That’s not what I meant.” Avery pushed a bin off to the side. “He’ll be around more. You can spend time with him.”

      “Yeah, but it’s time spent with everyone else, too. I want more alone time with him.”

      I couldn’t remember the last time we’d gone out to dinner, just the two of us. Even the simplest moments, like making sandwiches in the kitchen, turned into a group event. Shane would show up or Dad would wander in or Trisha would require my opinion on wedding favors, and whatever conversation Noah and I had been having stalled.

      Dante had trotted into the room. He ignored me and immediately went to Avery and curled up in her lap. “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked.

      “He’s going to have a rough adjustment.” Avery scratched behind Dante’s ears. “Unless I can convince my very best friend to stop by once in a while and check on him?”

      “He hates me.” And I wasn’t too fond of him. We’d reached a strange understanding: he acted as if I didn’t exist and I pretended not to notice.

      “He doesn’t hate you,” Avery said. “And once I leave, he’ll be lonely. Mom will be at work all the time, so it’d be nice if you came by to walk him, you know?”

      “I didn’t think Dante took walks,” I said. “I thought he ran around in a hamster wheel.”

      “Funny.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “Please? For me?”

      “That pleading look doesn’t work on me.” I shook my head. “But you’re my best friend, so yes, I’ll do it.”

      She clapped her hands together, startling Dante. “But if he bites me it’s over,” I said. “Got that, Dante? I bite back.”

      Now I was in the empty room, crouched on my hands and knees in an effort to coax Dante out from beneath the bed. “Come on,” I urged. “One little walk. I promised Avery, okay? Do it for her.”

      The mention of his owner’s name caused Dante’s ears to prick up. Finally, he emerged. I gently scooped him up and took him downstairs, where his powder-blue leash dangled from a hook by the front door.

      “It’s nice outside,” I told him. “You’ll see.” He gave me an unconvinced look. I was sure he blamed me for Avery leaving, and now he was resigned to putting up with the brief walks and random treats I offered him. It wasn’t much of a consolation prize.

      Outside, it was warm but not too hot yet. I slipped on my sunglasses and began walking up the hill, Dante trotting in front of me. The neighborhood slumbered in typical Sunday-morning mode. I let Dante determine our slow pace, which gave me the opportunity to gaze at the houses that made up my familiar street. Each house followed the same nonthreatening neutral color palette. Personal touches included a few cement lawn ornaments or decorative rocks or a basket of flowers.

      I liked our neighborhood, even if I didn’t feel as if I completely belonged here. I didn’t know any of my neighbors by name. There was Lady Who Always Sat on Her Porch Talking on Her Cell Phone, Man Who Washed His Car Three Times a Week and Family With Screaming Twin Boys. I wondered who I was to them. Girl Who Walked Best Friend’s Dog? No, they probably knew my face from what had happened inside our house months earlier. Girl Whose Mother Was Attacked.

      When we were halfway up the hill, Dante came to an abrupt stop. He sniffed the air, then whimpered.

      “What is it? You smell a bigger dog? A squirrel?” He was looking at the street. “Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I won’t let a squirrel get you.”

      Dante responded by crouching down. His eyes were still focused on the street, trained toward the top of the hill, but I didn’t see anything unusual.

      “Come on, there’s nothing there.” I tugged at the leash, and Dante whimpered again. “I can see my house from here. If you walk with me, we’ll stop there and I’ll give you a treat.”

      As I was debating whether to drag him up the hill or carry him, a car came into view. Sunlight glared off the windshield, so I couldn’t see the driver. The car crawled forward slowly, as if the driver was searching for a particular address and was afraid he’d go too far and miss it. The car stopped in front of my house. A camera emerged from the side window and the driver snapped some pictures.

      I angrily scooped up Dante and stomped up the hill. If some guy was going to take pictures of my house, I wanted to know who he was and what he wanted. But as I got closer to the burgundy-colored vehicle, its driver noticed me. Suddenly, the car lurched forward and sped past me. Dante burrowed in my arms as I watched the car reach the bottom of the street, turn around too quickly and speed back up the hill. Its tires squealed as it flew past me. The darkly tinted windows made it impossible to see anything inside, and the space where the license plate should have been was occupied by a paper temporary tag.

      It took only a second for the car to vanish. I stood there, petting Dante’s coarse fur in an effort to calm him down. He was shaking as I carried him into my house and placed him gingerly on a kitchen chair while I searched the fridge for a treat that he would like. My own hands were shaking a little as I sifted through the drawer where we kept the cold cuts. What was going on? Maybe it was a curious fan, but if so, would he have sped away as soon as he saw me?

      It’s not the Watcher, I told myself. He’s not driving around in a car. Calm down.

      “Oh, good. There you are.” Dad walked into the kitchen and tossed a pile of mail onto the counter. He saw the plastic deli bag I’d retrieved from the fridge. “Making a sandwich?”

      “Sort of. But it’s not for me.” I motioned toward Dante, who was still curled up in a quivering ball of rattled nerves. “He got scared by a car,” I explained. There was no reason to tell Dad anything. He had enough to worry about, and if the demented driver was simply an embarrassed fan, I would be causing him unnecessary stress.

      Dad sat in a chair across from Dante while I placed a pile of smoked turkey on a napkin. “So, СКАЧАТЬ