Beyond The Grave. Mara Purnhagen

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СКАЧАТЬ “I start school tomorrow, remember?”

      Dad nodded. “Right. Of course. Your first day of college.”

      He had forgotten. I placed the meat in front of Dante, who sniffed at it, then began to lick it. “I guess I could go. If you think we can be back by dinner.”

      There was no way that would happen, and we both knew it, but I didn’t want Dad to think I was trying to get out of the visit. We were quiet, both of us watching Dante eat as if it were the most interesting event in the world.

      “When was the last time you saw her?” Dad asked.

      The question felt like a shove to the chest. I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t prepared. “Couple weeks ago. I went with Annalise.”

      It had been a brief visit, one that my sister had insisted on. While she made a consistent effort to see Mom twice a week, I often found reasons why I couldn’t go. During the first month after she had been hurt, I went to the hospital every day. I spent hours in her room, feeling the rhythm of the machines that kept her alive. Her heart monitor was a drum, softly tapping out a beat. Nurses checked her vitals every hour. They would smile at me before reaching for Mom’s limp wrist. She was so pale, so still. She would look exactly the same if we laid her in a coffin, I thought.

      Days passed, then weeks. The hopeful doctors decided that they’d done all they could and said Mom would be better off in a long-term care facility. Long-term. The suggestion behind the word terrified me. Would she remain in this motionless state for months? Years? Forever? The doctors didn’t know. She had survived the critical first twenty-four hours. Only time would tell, they said. Head trauma took time to heal. But no one could tell us how much time. And after months of minuscule success—her finger twitched once when I held her hand—a part of me gave up.

      How long can a person cling to hope before it becomes too much? I wanted to remember Mom as the laughing, determined person she had been, not the helpless body she had become. Seeing her lying in the crisp white bed, the monitors beeping steadily, reminded me that she was not the person I had always known. It hurt. And I was tired of hurting. I wouldn’t give up on her, but it was easier to hold on to hope when I didn’t have to look at her.

      “I know it can be difficult,” Dad said, his voice soft. “But I also know that it matters. Us being there matters. I believe that.”

      Did he? Before the attack, Dad had never trusted anything that wasn’t based purely in science. When had he transformed? I almost wished that he hadn’t. Everyone was changing without me.

      “I’ll go next time,” I said. “I promise.”

      “I’m going to hold you to that.” Dad crossed the room and kissed my forehead. “See you tomorrow, Charlotte.”

      “Have a good trip, Dad.”

      After he left, I flipped through the mail. A thick white envelope had already been opened. I checked the return address. It was from the insurance company. I stole a glance at the bill enclosed and gasped when I saw the amount due. Dad’s car didn’t cost that much. I resolved to assist Shane more. The looming DVD deadline had to be met.

      Dante finished scarfing down his turkey and I walked him back down the hill. Avery’s mom was away for the weekend, so I made sure Dante had fresh water and added some kibble to his dish. Then I took him upstairs and put him on Avery’s bed. He liked to be petted as he fell asleep, a job I hated at first but now found somewhat soothing. As the little dog drifted off into sleep, I looked around at the bare room. Avery had left behind so little. Just pink walls and a depressed pet.

      I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail, but I didn’t leave a message. Before I allowed myself to plunge deeper into pity, I called Noah. He picked up on the second ring, and before he even said a word, I felt better.

      “Rough day?” he asked.

      “You could say that.” I told him all about the strange burgundy car. Noah was one of the few people I trusted completely, and he was the only one who knew my biggest secret: I had seen the other side, and that brief experience had triggered the Watcher.

      “If you see it again, you let me know, okay?” Noah shifted into protective mode, something he seemed to do a lot lately.

      “I will.” I looked out Avery’s window. There wasn’t much of a view, just the side yard and part of her neighbor’s house. “What about you?” I asked. “How was your day?”

      “Interesting. I spoke to Jeff.”

      “Your brother?” Noah didn’t talk about his older brothers much. I knew that they had both left home as soon as they’d graduated high school and enlisted in the army. Noah rarely saw them.

      “Yeah. He called from someplace near Kandahar. I don’t think I’m supposed to know that, though.” He chuckled. “Everything with him is always so top secret.”

      “What did you guys talk about?”

      He paused. “Our dad.”

      Noah had mentioned his father to me only once. He had left the family when Noah was very young and moved to parts unknown, randomly contacting his sons with a card every few years. The last time his father had reached out was with a postcard, sent a week after Noah’s eleventh birthday.

      “Why did Jeff want to talk about your dad?” I asked cautiously.

      “Because he found Jeff.” He sighed. “He Googled him, can you believe that? Found out about Jeff being in the army and got in touch with him. Jeff was always his favorite.”

      “Wow.” I wasn’t sure what to say. Noah’s voice didn’t reveal any clear emotion, but I knew he must be struggling with this new development.

      “I’ll tell you something,” he said, and I could hear a fierce determination in his words. “I’ll never be that guy. I’ll never have to search for my kids on a computer, and they won’t ever have to search for me.”

      “You’re not him,” I said. “You could never be like that.”

      Noah didn’t respond. His silence was a sign that he was angrily mulling things over. “I could come over,” I offered. “We could hang out.”

      “Sorry, I have some things to do. Thanks, though.”

      It was rare for Noah to not want to get together. He was really upset, and I felt helpless. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, and I hated the idea of him sitting alone with his angry thoughts.

      “Maybe later, then. I can swing by for a few—”

      “No,” he interrupted. I was taken aback by the force of his refusal, but then he softened. “I appreciate the offer, Charlotte, I do. But I want to be alone, and I have a ton of work to do tonight. I’ll call you later, okay?”

      “Sure. Okay.”

      We hung up. I remained sitting on Avery’s bed, watching Dante and twisting my bracelet around my wrist. I knew Noah wasn’t mad at me, and there was nothing I could really do for him except give him the space he needed. But he was holding back with me, not telling me what he was feeling or what he was doing, exactly.

      Dante СКАЧАТЬ