Jump When Ready (10 page)

Ghosting Out

As soon as we touched down, I pulled away from Curtis and
stood glaring at him. Part of me wanted to punch him in the face while the rest
of me suddenly felt too weak to do anything. I looked around but couldn’t make
out very much. By the light of the moon, I saw we were in an open area that
might have been some sort of park. I saw what looked like a kid’s play structure
not too far off, as well as some picnic tables and streetlights in the
distance.

“Where are we? Why did you just do that?”

“Trying to save you from yourself,” Curtis said. “Not to
mention your family.”

“You don’t know anything about me or my family. I need to
get back to them. They need me!”

“Not going to happen. Sorry.” Curtis turned his back and
started walking across the field.

 “Stop!”

Curtis kept walking.

“Turn around!”

Curtis stopped and slowly turned to face me. While I
expected to see the smirk I’d come to know, instead he seemed sad.

“Or what?”

He was right. There was nothing I could do. “Take me
back. I need to help my family!”

“Which is exactly why you’re not going back.” Curtis
looked up and spoke to the night sky. “Are we good, Martha?”

I looked up too, half-expecting Martha to be hovering
above us, but she wasn’t there. How was it possible that Curtis was talking to
her and what did she have to do with what was going on? She’d promised to help
me but this wasn’t helping at all.

Only a second passed before Curtis closed his eyes and
nodded. “Okay, we can talk about that. But enough for now?”

I had just started walking toward Curtis when he suddenly
vanished. I looked in every direction, hoping it had to be some sort of joke.
“Curtis, get back here! Please!”

I spun in circles, searching the sky. I staggered back
and forth. Then I stopped and looked around again, realizing I still I had no
idea where I was. I felt panic rising inside me and all I could think about was
getting back home. I told myself everything would work out somehow if I could
just get back there again. I desperately willed myself to return but nothing
happened.

Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by weakness and exhaustion.
I hadn’t slept for days and I told myself that was probably it. At the same
time, I felt more than just tired. Now that I was no longer inside my old home
it felt like I’d lost part of myself. I had to get back there but that door was
now closed. I felt tears rise to my eyes and dropped to my knees, holding my
face in my hands.

“Home,” I whispered. “I need to get back home.”

But I went nowhere. Finally, I collapsed to the ground
and curled into a ball. Within moments, I drifted into darkness.

~~~

I don’t know how long I was out but eventually I felt light
against my eyelids. I tried to ignore it but after a while I sat up, blinking
against the brightness of the morning. I saw a field of dewy grass and the play
structure. I saw streets and buildings not too far off. I still had no idea
where I was and for a few moments couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. Then
the night came back to me. My mind felt fuzzy, feverish, and I barely remember
when I started walking.

Before long, I wandered down the main street of a town
I’d never seen before. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone as when I walked
that street at daybreak. I walked past closed shops and dark restaurants. I saw
and heard no one. I stood on a street corner, looking at the empty buildings,
not even seeing my own reflection in any of the windows. I wondered if anyone
would ever see me again or if being Banished meant even more than I’d thought.
Could it mean remaining totally invisible, forgotten and lost forever?

A dog barked and I looked to see that I wasn’t totally
alone. A man lay sleeping on a bus stop bench, and beneath the bench a black
lab looked directly at me. She seemed like she might be kind of old, with gray
hairs speckling her muzzle.

The dog barked again and the man opened his eyes. He
propped himself up on his elbows and looked in the same direction as his dog,
right at me. He didn’t see me, of course, but I could tell the dog did. For the
record, it’s true what they say about dogs, they can see the “nonliving.” It
felt so great in that moment knowing I was at least visible to her.

“What the heck are you going on about, Bella?” the man
said.

I held out my hand and Bella came over. “Just lost,
girl,” I whispered. “Hungry too.”

Bella could relate to that. She cocked her head, looked
at me again, then trotted back over to her owner.

The man groaned and got to his feet. He started off down
the road. “Come on, girl.”

Bella looked my way again one last time. “Woof,” she
said.

“Woof,” I said back to her. Maybe it was my imagination,
but she seemed kind of sad to say goodbye.

Then I was alone again, still weak and tired. I took the
bench, curled up and closed my eyes, one lost soul taking the place of another
as the sun continued to rise.

~~~

It seemed like minutes later that someone nudged my
shoulder. I felt myself starting to smile even though I knew I had to be
dreaming. You have no idea how much it means that someone can see or touch you.
You just take it for granted—or you might even get annoyed about it sometimes.
What
are you looking at? Give me some space, okay?
That’s easy to say when
you’re among your own kind. But I had remained totally invisible, basically
nonexistent, for days except for one encounter with Curtis. Well, okay, and
with Bella.

A second passed before I felt another nudge. Then I heard
Naomi’s voice. “Henry? Can you hear me?”

Then I heard Simon too. “He looks bad.”

Both of them sounded far off, like I was underwater. Once
again, I was reminded of times in the past when I’d had a high fever. As much
as I wanted to see Naomi and Simon again, I wanted to sleep more. In my dreams,
I’d been back in my old house watching over my father, mother and brother.

“Henry? Curtis told us we could find you here,” Naomi
said. “Are you okay? Please nod if you can hear me?”

I was already drifting away again.

From what seemed like a million miles away I heard Simon
say, “This is bad. We may have lost him. Henry, old mate, wake up. Come on,
Henry, wake up!”

“Oh, no,” Naomi said. “Do you think he’s really ghosting
out? This is scary—what should we do?”

“I’m not sure,” Simon said. “Henry, it’s us! Come on,
Henry, can you hear us? How about Hank? Does anyone call you Hank? Listen, it’s
us—Simon and Naomi.”

My eyelids fluttered open. I totally hated being called
Hank. Not that I’d ever loved being a Henry all that much, but Hank was even
more like the name of some old farmer from Kansas back in the 1800s. Not to
mention that it rhymed with skank.

“What do you know? I think I may have touched a nerve,”
Simon said. “Looks like our boy is still kicking. Hank, can you hear me? Or how
about Hanskter—that has kind of nice ring to it. What do you think—shall we go
with the Hankster?”

I looked up at the two of them. Part of me wanted to
smile, part of me wanted to smack Simon, but most of me wanted to drift off
again. I gave in to that feeling and let my eyes start to close.

Naomi leaned in over me. “Henry, are you hungry? Mmm, I
think I smell pizza. Or was that a big juicy cheeseburger? How do you feel
about going to the food court? I know I’d love going there right now. How about
you, Simon?”

“A plate of fish and chips sounds great,” Simon said.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind some tacos too.”

He pronounced it like “tack-os,” which, for some reason,
I found kind of irritating. I opened my eyes again. “It’s not tack-os,” I said.
“It’s tacos.”

“To each his own,” Simon said.

“No, seriously, it’s tacos,” I said.

That time, I managed to keep my eyes open. You wouldn’t
think dead people get hungry but, strangely, we do. I’d been drooling each time
my brother stuffed his face all week long.

Simon kept at me. “Tacos, tack-os. You say potato, I say
potahto.”

Naomi giggled. “Oh, my parents loved that song—I think it
was from the 1940s!” She started singing. “You like potato, I like potahto. You
like tomato, I like tomahto.”

“So, let’s call the whole thing off!” Simon crooned, his
voice rising.

Finally, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at
him. “You really can be annoying some—”

“Now?” Naomi said.

“Definitely,” Simon said.

They reached down, grabbed me by the arms, and off I went
again. For the record, this mode of forced travel was definitely getting on my
nerves.

~~~

I still felt weak when we got back to Halfway House but
things gradually began to come into focus again. Simon and Naomi hadn’t been
lying about being hungry either. The three of us pigged out in the food court
and with each bite I felt a little more strength return. But I think it had way
more to do with me being back there again than eating.

After a while, Naomi said, “Martha told us you were
trying to help your sister. Is she okay now?”

Simon glanced over at Naomi, then made direct eye contact
with me. “Martha said your sister got lost in the mountains.”

By the way he said it, I understood. Martha had told Naomi
a more kid-friendly version of the story. I turned to Naomi. “My sister’s not
okay yet. We’re still trying to help her get home,” I said. “Jamie and Nikki
are with her now.”

“Oh, good,” Naomi said. “So, she must be in the mountains
near that town where we found you?”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Hang on,” I said.
“Where was that town?”

Simon and Naomi exchanged glances.

 “Mate, you were seriously ghosting out,” Simon said.
“Not to worry. You seem to be doing fine now. Anyway, the town is called
Trent—it’s at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. In Virginia. Isn’t that
where you’re from?”

“Um, no,” I said, “I mean, I’m from Virginia but not that
part.”

It took a minute for the information to settle in, but
this was good news! If that town was near the same mountains where Will and
Karen had taken Bethany, then maybe Curtis had been trying to tell me
something. It not only meant there was a town full of people close to where
they were keeping Bethany but also that she wasn’t so far from home either.
We’d driven out to the Blue Ridge to see the fall colors a few times as a
family, so I kind of knew where it was. I realized now why I’d thought I’d seen
the mountain range before—because I had. And maybe I was kidding myself, but it
felt good knowing she wasn’t someplace totally unfamiliar.

I got to my feet. “Good idea getting some food but I
should get back to my sister.”

“You might want to take it easy.” Simon said. “You were
pretty out of it.”

Simon was right—I did feel kind of dizzy. “What the heck
is going on with me? Am I sick or something?”

“You might say that you were,” Martha said from the
doorway. “In a sense, you were closer to dying than when you drowned.”

Martha was casually dressed, as always, in faded jeans
and an old sweatshirt. But her hair wasn’t tied back and I had the feeling she
might have rushed over. If so, her expression gave nothing away.

She smiled at the three of us. “Henry, I was wondering if
you might have a few minutes for us to talk.”

I looked at Simon and Naomi trying to gauge if I was in
some sort of trouble. Simon stared at his third plate of food as if considering
whether to stop. Naomi rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, whistling silently.

“Why don’t we take a walk outside?” Martha said. “It’s a
beautiful day.”

I thought about reminding her that the weather had been
perfect since they’d convinced me to abandon my rainforest. But she knew that,
of course, so I got up from the table to join her.

Once we were outside, we started walking down the street,
past the other houses and yards. As always, I heard the sounds of other kids
playing and laughing. I heard the cars and music, just as I had the day we’d
arrived here following my funeral. But, as usual, I still didn’t see anyone
else.

As if she’d read my mind earlier, Martha asked, “Would
you like some rain or clouds? I’m fine with either. To be honest, I tend to
prefer a slightly more unpredictable environment when on my own.”

I thought back to that visit to her room—the snowcapped
mountains outside her windows and the massive white birds swooping past.

“Actually, rain sounds kind of good,” I said. “Maybe just
a little.”

“You’re old for your age. Very few young people can
appreciate the beauty found in shades of gray.” Even as Martha said it, the sky
started to darken. Clouds rolled in slowly past the sun and a drop of rain hit
my forehead. A few more would follow, I knew, but it wouldn’t pour. Drizzle
weather.

“I guess you must wonder about the sounds you hear in
your neighborhood. And why you never see who’s making those sounds.”

Martha was definitely on her game today. “I’ve been
curious about that,” I said.

“There are children here,” Martha said. “They make the
most noise when they play. Such a lovely sound. Of course, the teenagers drive
the cars and listen to music. Slightly different levels of experience but you
all wanted to be close to each other since none of you had truly grown up yet.”

I looked over at Martha as we now walked a path that had
at some point replaced the street. There was a field around us now, the
neighborhood gone. I hadn’t even noticed when that had happened but I just
figured that’s what Martha wanted to be around in that moment.

“What do you mean when you say we wanted to be near each
other?” I said.

“Not consciously, of course. But you knew where you
needed to be. Childhood was, and still is, a large part of your world.”