Beyond the Rising Tide (18 page)

I’m dead, so I should be the one haunting. Instead, Avery haunts me. I smell her scent even when she’s not beside me. I hear her voice echoing inside my head long after she’s gone. And when I’m not looking, she moves things around inside the chambers of my still heart.

It was too much to see her with Tyler last night out on the deck, and as much as I wanted to wait for her, I couldn’t stay to hear her say the words: that she and Tyler were back together. I guess it’s what I want for her because it’s what she wants. But that doesn’t make it any easier to take.

The air is warm and humid, and I follow a path through the fragrant lavender field where bees are busily gathering nectar, moving from one flower sprig to the next. I pass through a wooden swinging gate into the vineyard, and the land slopes downward into green rolling hills folding into one another. Beyond the hills, a sparkling ocean stretches to the horizon. The vines are as tall as I am, clad in wide leaves and green clusters of budding fruit. Morning dew clings to the leaves and grass at my feet, making the vineyard smell like fresh rain and earth. It makes me think of the vineyard in Marquette, and how I would give almost anything to reclaim the life I had there. Only, it was a life without Avery. And even though I know I can’t be with her, I wouldn’t give up knowing her for anything.

I see Isadora at the end of the row, her golden retriever, Dacio, trailing her. She’s in a colorful muumuu and bare feet, and she’s ambling down the row, her hands exploring the newly pruned vines. I meet her halfway, and she looks up at me with milky eyes.

“You did good,” she says with a smile. “Now if I only had a crew to follow through until harvest.”

“Why don’t you hire help?”

She shakes her head. “No one can take care of the vineyard like Miguel. And it’s hard to trust new people when you can’t see their faces.” Her hand finds my face and pats my cheek. “I can see you, though. And you are someone to trust.”

“I wish I could stay longer,” I say, and I mean those words more than she can possibly comprehend.

“That is okay. When I leave here, and go to Miguel, my vineyard will go to someone else. And they can do what they want with it.” She waves dismissively and continues down the row, touching the leaves and humming to herself. Dacio licks my hand and then trots after her.

I go to the shed for some wire, then return and start repairing places where the support wire has broken or become loose. As I’m working, a light breeze rustles my hair, and the sun on my back suddenly burns warmer. I feel a presence behind me, and I know who it is even before I turn around.

“Kai.” Charles’s voice behind me is gentle, but it pierces me to the bone, because I know now with certainty that my time here is over.

Avery will never see me again. I only hope I’ve done enough to help her. I inhale deeply, smelling the damp earth and reveling in the breeze on my face one last time.

“What are you doing?” I can hear sorrow in Charles’s voice, confirmation that I’ve let him down. I never cared what anybody thought of me until I met him. Because I knew that he truly cared about me, and still does. So it’s torture to turn and face him.

He’s outlined by a white aura, because it’s his soul I’m seeing, uncovered by flesh and bone. His blue eyes are as soulful as ever, the wrinkles around them heavy with sadness. He walks over to me and lays a gentle hand on my shoulder, looking me in the eye, directly into my soul. “Why?” he asks simply.

I lower my eyes to escape the intensity of his gaze. “I’m sorry. I needed to help Avery. It just … it hurt so much to see her like that. And I felt responsible. I had to do something.”

Charles drops his hand and looks around, as if he’s only now noticing where we are. “And what are you doing in a vineyard?”

I tell him how I needed a place to stay, and about Isadora’s generosity. Then I say, “So, what happens now?”

“If you give me back the ring and come with me now, nothing. No one on the other side has to know.”

I consider, but I can’t come back now, not yet. Avery still needs my help. “And if I don’t?”

“Kai, please. You’re placing me in a very difficult position. You’ve taken my ability to fulfill certain assignments. And now that I know you have the ring, I’m breaking a rule by allowing you to use it.”

I let out a long sigh, realizing for the first time that my choice has affected more than me. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” I know I should take off the ring and hand it back to Charles. But then I think of Avery, of the torment on her face when she opened up to me in the chocolate shop, and I know there’s more to heal than just her relationship with Tyler. “I need a little more time.”

“Sometimes when we think we’re helping people, we’re really hindering them. Avery is stronger than you give her credit for.”

“I know she’s strong. But she doesn’t seem to know.” I shove my hands in my pockets and give a weary sigh. “It’s my job to heal people, isn’t it?”

“It’s your job to heal physical ailments and injuries. But emotional healing isn’t that simple. It takes time, willingness, and work on the part of the person being healed, and a greater power than you possess.”

I look down and kick the soil with my flip-flop. I know from experience that he’s right. Even now, after my death, there are emotional wounds I’m still healing from.

“Your intentions are noble. But this is dangerous. If she finds out who you are—”

“I know the consequence. And I’ve been careful. She won’t find out.” I press a hand to my forehead to ease the pressure building there.

“If she does, not only will you lose your healing power and be banned from Earth, but it may only deepen her wounds—not to mention cause irreparable emotional and psychological damage.”

“That won’t happen,” I say again, enunciating each word slowly. “I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to help her. And I’ve already seen a difference. A new light in her eyes.”

My words appear to worry him more than reassure. “Have you even considered what the punishment might be if you’re caught wearing a ring that isn’t yours?”

I have wondered, but figured asking would give away my plan. “What is the punishment?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure it’s steep.”

I picture Avery, the carefree way she smiled at me in the chocolate shop yesterday, and measure the worth of her happiness. “Whatever it is, she’s worth it. I died for her, and if given the chance, I would die for her again. I know I can help her. And if I have to pay another price for it, so be it.”

Charles’s face turns firm. He steps toward me and holds out his hand. “Kai, I’m not giving you a choice. There’s too much risk for too many people. Hand over the ring, and come with me now.” He stares at me for a long moment, waiting. And then his eyes shift to something over my shoulder, his face slackening.

I twist around, and there’s Avery standing at the end of the row, framed softly by vines and the morning sun.

She’s far enough away that I don’t think she heard me talking, but I can’t be sure. Time seems to slow as she moves toward me down the alley of vines, the way it does when you’re intensely studying something and trying to commit it to memory. She’s wearing a sky-blue sundress, and the fabric at her knees flutters with each step. Her wavy hair hangs over one shoulder in a loose ponytail, and her hands grip a little white box. When she’s at arm’s length, she stops and greets me with a shy smile.

“You found me,” I say. Then remembering Charles, I twist around to introduce him. But he’s gone. And I realize that even if he were still there, she wouldn’t be able to see him. I don’t know where Charles went, but I have the feeling he’s still watching me.

She offers me the box, the same type we filled with chocolate-covered fruit the night before. “This is for you,” she says. “For helping me last night.”

I accept it soberly, because it feels like a going away present, one I can’t even take with me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t eat it all in one sitting. Especially if you’re lactose intolerant. But if you’re not, then well … just pace yourself.” Her lips quirk into an adorable smile, and she looks up at me, waiting for me to smile in return. But I can’t. Not when I feel like I’m sinking with a boulder chained to my ankle. She bites her lip and shifts her feet, like my graveness is making her nervous. “So … what happened to you last night?”

What happened? I fell entirely and completely in love with a girl I can’t have. I watched her kiss a boy who doesn’t deserve her. I hitched a ride home with a stranger and lay in an empty room, trying to remember how to breathe. But I don’t say any of this. I just give her the clipped version. “I left.”

She takes a deep breath, and it seems to calm her a bit, because her feet stop doing the two-step. “How did you get home?”

“I caught a ride with some guy … Jason, I think. He said it wasn’t out of his way, so …”

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Because to watch you with Tyler would have been like drowning all over again. “Well, from the look of things, I thought you’d want to stay with Tyler for longer, and I was pretty tired.”

“You could’ve at least told me you were leaving.” From the agitated way she’s looking at me, she’s clearly upset.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt. How did it go, anyway?”

She takes a handful of her skirt and fidgets with it. “What can I say? Your plan worked.”

“So … you’re back together?”

She shrugs, then gets a faraway look on her face, as though she’s replaying the night before. “He kissed me,” she says absently.

“Yeah—I saw that.”

She sighs, and her face clears. “And then his mouth got in the way.”

I don’t know if she means that he’s a messy kisser, or if he said something dumb. Knowing his history, it was probably the latter. “What do you mean?”

She opens her mouth to answer, then closes it. She shakes her head. “Nothing. To be honest, I’d rather talk about you.” The line between her brows deepens. “That song you sang last night … it was beautiful. Did you write it?”

It takes a minute to purge the image of her and Tyler kissing from my head before I can answer. “Yeah. Kind of in the moment, actually. I mean, the lyrics have been sort of rolling around in my head for a few months, but last night was the first time I put them to music.”

She gapes at me. “What are you doing working in a vineyard? Shouldn’t you be off in New York or LA or wherever, signing a music contract and recording an album?”

I shrug. “That was the plan.”

“Was? What happened?”

“Got derailed.”

“By what?”

“Life.” Or the loss of it, more accurately. A bug buzzes near my ear, and I sweep it away.

She’s looking at me expectantly, as though waiting for me to say more. But there’s nothing more to say. At least nothing that won’t make her question my sanity. “There’s this thing called communication,” she says. “Do you want me to explain how it works?”

I feel a smile spread over my lips. “I don’t know. You seem like a novice yourself.”

She slugs me in the arm. “At least I’m trying.” I hear the buzzing again, but this time I see the source. A bee hovers around Avery’s neck, and it lands right below her ear. I reach out to swipe it away, but I’m not quick enough.

“Ow!” she cries, wincing and grabbing her neck.

“Here—let me see.” I move her hand away and examine her neck. There’s the beginning of a welt with a stinger poking out of it. I pull the stinger out. “That’s what happens when you smell like sugar.”

“Very funny,” she says, grimacing.

“Come here—I have something that will help.” I curl my fingers around the bare flesh of her wrist, which feels sort of like holding a live wire, and lead her through another wooden gate to a small herb garden behind Isadora’s house. I bend down and pluck some leaves from a couple random herbs. I’ve no idea what they are, but it doesn’t matter. They’re nothing more than a disguise for the remedy I’ll really be using. I put the leaves in my palm with a couple drops of water from the dripping garden hose and mash them into a pulp. It smells like mint, and maybe basil.

When I step over to her, she gives me a wary look, and I smile encouragingly. “Just … trust me.” I reach out to apply the concoction to her neck, but when I touch the welt, she flinches backward in pain.

“It stings,” she complains.

“Which is why it’s not called a bee hug. Here—” I step closer so I’m only inches away, then slide my free hand around the back of her neck to hold her still. As I apply a bit of herb goop to the sting, I gently press my finger against it. The wound is small, so it doesn’t take long to heal. But I leave my hand there a little longer than necessary, because I’m pretty sure this is the last time I’ll touch her, the last time I’ll feel the warmth of her skin. I look down into her face, letting my eyes slowly wander over it, and try to memorize every line and curve, every shade of pink, every location of every freckle. I meander from her blue eyes down to her full lips. They’re parted slightly, and I can hear her breaths growing shallow, feel their warmth on my face. The pulse in her neck is racing, and she’s looking up into my eyes, seeming to search for something there. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, or whether she finds it. All I know is that things are getting fuzzy.

I was so sure she loved Tyler, so invested in the idea of getting them back together, it never crossed my mind that she might fall for me. But from the way she’s looking at me now, I can see it’s possible. And it kills me. It’s one thing to break my own heart trying to help her. But to break hers too …

She can’t fall for me. Not now, not ever. Because it will only hurt her more when I have to leave. “Avery,” I say softly. I don’t know how to tell her. But I have to. “I don’t think I’m going to be here as long as I thought. Definitely not for the whole summer.”

“You’re leaving?” She blinks. “When?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But soon.” Her neck is healed, so I lower my hand and take a step away, creating a small distance between us. It hurts, like I’ve been stung too. Only, my sting won’t heal as easily as hers.

She absorbs my words for a minute, and I see the light slowly disappear from her face like a setting sun.