New Horizons (32 page)

“That the seagulls know we have food. And how they just sit outside our car and wait for it.”

“They must be smart.”

Maybe they were smart. But they were patient too. They were waiting for something that may or may not happen.

“How is your food?” he asked.

“It’s good.”

On his radio there was a woman talking about incidents in the area. Numbers and routes. It had to be an annoying thing to listen to all day. But it became background noise that we somehow ignored after awhile. When we were done eating, he started up his engine and then looked at me.

“What now?” I asked him.

“Your dad is at the station.”

“In Basinview?”

“No. Here in Sacton.”

“He came up?” I was surprised by that. I touched my face and I could feel the dried on mud coming off my skin. It felt thick, and it was beginning to crumble.

“Your dad was on his way up to get you. And then you disappeared.”

“Why was he coming to get me?”

“They were sending everyone home.”

That was insane. If I had waited it out, just a couple more hours maybe, that Dad would’ve come and got me. That I would’ve been free of that place. But I hadn’t known that at the time. And I wanted out right then.

“He’s probably relieved you’re okay,” Officer Marks said.

“Sure. That nature didn’t eat me.”

“And other reasons.”

“Are you referring to the other girl?” I asked.

“The other girl?”

“The girl who killed herself.”

“Yes.” He pulled out of the parking lot and got back onto the road. It was only going to be a short five minute drive. “We got the call about her.”

“She was my bunkmate. She slept right under me.” Everything was green outside the window. Wet and shiny and new looking. “That’s pretty crazy, eh? That someone who slept under me every night was going to kill herself. What do you do with that? I was up there sleeping, and she was down there thinking. I didn’t know.” I laughed.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Yes it is.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Someone would rather be dead than alive. Someone would rather never, ever get to breathe or get a chance to be happy ever again. That is hard to think about.” I had a deep urge to cry. I was exhausted, yet I held it in. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had seen. It was so messed up, and I couldn’t believe that I was the lightest sleeper in the cabin, and still, Bambi had snuck out on me and no one caught her.

“She was sick, and she wanted it to stop. And since she wanted it to stop, she believed that there was no other option but to kill herself. So if she didn’t do it that night, she was going to do it the next time she got overwhelmed with hopelessness. And the time after that. It’s hard to understand because we aren’t severely depressed like she was. It’s unbelievable, but if we felt what she felt, it wouldn’t be.”

Maybe if Officer Marks knew about my history, he wouldn’t be making wide and open statements about depression and death like that. But I knew what he meant. I wasn’t sick like Tracy was. Right then, I didn’t want to kill myself. Sure, I had said it before, maybe because I liked the sound of it coming out of my mouth—that I wanted to die. But right then I couldn’t take suicide seriously because I wasn’t in the frame of mind that I’d been in the night I had come close doing it. There was nothing bad enough in my life to end it, and that was a relief. I had forgotten that I should be grateful. Life was shitty, but it was bearable for me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“It’s just so sad,” I whispered.

“It is sad. It’s
really
sad.”

I wiped the tears off my face and thought about things that weren’t going to make me cry. Like a warm bed, and a hot shower—good things to look forward to. But the more I thought about home, the more I realized that nobody would understand what happened to Tracy McPherson unless they had been where she had been. And I had been where she had been, and that meant I had an idea of who Tracy was, or at least, what she was feeling.

“Everything will work out. You got to see someone’s mistake, and now you get to learn from it. That’s why we can’t take life for granted. All the bad things that happen, that we regret and make us sad when we torment ourselves thinking about them—those things are important because they make the good things
worth it
. Your whole life is valuable. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

“It’s just hard remembering things that have happened…not just at New Horizons obviously, but in my past. I know I can change if I want to, but wanting to change and actually doing it are pretty different.”

“That’s good that you’re realizing that.” Officer Marks smiled.

I thought about the night I had gone to the ER. The night Dad had yelled at me with paper curtains surrounding us. He was afraid of me because only desperate people thought about death and dying and getting away. It was the night he realized that I seriously needed help. It had to be hard to know your daughter was beyond your control.

“What did you say to that old man to get him in the car?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Officer Marks asked.

“Why did he just get in the car with you? He seemed pretty calm. I’m surprised you didn’t scare him.”

“I listened to what he had to say, and then I told him I would take him back to his mother.”

“And where would that be?”

“He lives with his sister, down the street. We take him home all the time. He’s harmless. I’m always happy to help him out. I just don’t want him to get hurt wandering off like that.”

“So why didn’t you tell him you were taking him to his sister’s?”

“What good would that do?”

I didn’t know what to say. But Officer Marks was right. As long as the old man was safe, happy, and not hurting anyone, what was the point of telling him that he was wrong, or that his mother was dead, or that he had Alzheimer's? It would scare anybody hearing that for the first time. That’s what Alzheimer's seems to be—hearing things for the first time, all the time.

Maybe I didn’t want to forget my life. I didn’t want it erased like that. I didn’t want to be confused. I just needed a change.

I wasn’t much of a pop drinker. My thing was iced tea. I sipped on my iced tea as I walked up to the police station. Officer Marks held the door for me, and when I entered, there was Dad sitting near a desk, waiting for me.

“Hi Val.” He stood up. His eyes were red, and he had probably been crying.

I walked over to him and kept the straw in my mouth. I sipped on my drink until I heard the ice suction at the bottom. I shook it to get anything else up the straw. But there was nothing there.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think so.”

And then he hugged me. He reached out and put his arms around me. It felt good to be held like that. I put my arms around him, just to reciprocate the feeling, and waited for him to release me.

“I wish you would’ve waited for me,” he said. His face was on top of my shoulder. I could feel him shaking. “Instead of running away.”

I pulled away. “Well, I didn’t know you were coming. I thought I was stuck here.”

Officer Marks pointed at a seat. I didn’t sit down.

“Well, you could use a shower,” Dad said. He had a small smile on his face. His eyes trailed over me, and it was turning into awkward, small talk. At least it was him instead of Mum. If I saw her face anytime soon, I would cry. I didn’t want her to see this side of me. But she knew about my sadness, and I didn’t want to burden her with having a depressed daughter. She didn’t deserve that.

There was dried mud across my arms and there wasn’t one spec of white left on my shirt. If I released my hair out of the elastic, it would probably break off it was so dry and crunchy.

“You scared us, Val.”

“You and Mum?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Well, I couldn’t take it anymore. There are a lot of messed up people in that program. And I was mixed up with them.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He wiped his face. “I heard about everything that happened.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so relieved. When the police station got the call about a girl in uniform walking on the side of the road, I was hoping it was you.”

I imagined that the lady with the Dalmation had ratted us out. I hoped her dog died. I hoped her customers hated her pictures. And then, once I calmed down, I hoped she did well. Because I guess I needed to be found.

“But you’re a hero too,” Officer Marks said.

I laughed. “And why’s that?”

“You found that man.”

“I didn’t find him. He just sat down next to me and we talked.”

“That was good of you to talk to him. You did good,” Officer Marks said. “It could’ve been a lot worse. And he was safe.”

I did good. I had done nothing but recognize that an old man was delirious, not all there, and I had called someone else to deal with him. Because I wasn’t someone who knew what to do. I couldn’t give him the help he needed, so I sat and listened to him while the real help was on the way.

19:
BRIGHT PINK

On the ride home I sat with my feet up on the dash, and Dad didn’t ask me to move them.
Maybe he thought I would snap and he didn’t want to bug me. Or maybe it wasn’t a good time to make a big deal about small things. The sun was going down by the time we left the town and were on the highway. We had three hours ahead of us, and Dad said we could stop anywhere I wanted to. All I had to do was speak up and say so.

“I just want to go home, to be honest.”

“Your mum would like to come over and see you.”

“You’re okay with that?” I knew he was okay with that. They were completely okay with the split. And it was me who still couldn’t get used to having parents that were friendly, and not in love. It was just one more thing to add to my list of things to think about.

“Of course she can come to the house. You know that, Val. And you can go to hers. You can even live with her like she’s offered several times.”

“I’m not leaving or going anywhere.”

“I didn’t say you had to. I just want you happy again.”

The highway was spread out ahead of us, and it was almost empty besides our car. The coast was to the right of the car, and if you flew up over the guard rail, there was still some land to drive over before going off the edge. It was safe. Someone had thought things through before putting the highway right next to the ocean.

I’m sorry for scaring you.

He didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed on the road in front of him, and I waited for some kind of response from him to let me know he could listen if I spoke up. But he stayed how he was. Completely still. He had both hands on the wheel, he didn’t even tilt his head my way. It was like I was alone.

I held a gun up to my head and I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t been interrupted. I kind of do know, though. And I really regret it. It feels horrible to know what could have happened…I don’t feel like that was even me.

There was so much road in front of us, and Dad kept his eyes on it while I glanced off to the side and pictured what it must be like to know you couldn’t control your kid’s happiness anymore. There wasn't a happy switch that could be turned on or off by showing someone a toy, or taking them to fun places. Joy and happiness and being okay were all things in themselves, and seemed to come and go regardless of the surroundings. It had to be hard knowing that I was prone to saddness no matter what he did. But it was going to be okay as long as Dad knew it wasn’t his fault or anybody else's.

“Dad I haven’t felt good in a while.”

He looked over at me.

“And it’s not because of the split or anything like that…I mean I’m sure that adds to it, but still. I’ve just been feeling like this and I don’t know why. I’ve been acting different, and doing things I wouldn't normally do this past year. I feel…exhausted.”

“I understand.”

I had so much to tell him. But I was still coming to terms with it myself, and I wasn’t ready to talk to people I knew. I had been aware that I wasn’t feeling well for awhile. And I didn’t want anyone to know because I didn’t have a reason to feel bad or hate myself. I was a good person, with good grades, and a good life, and I was embarrassed to be depressed. Mum and Dad didn’t deserve to have a daughter with problems.

“Val, you just scare me sometimes. You scare both your mum and I. It’s why we wanted you to go in that program.”

“I’m sorry for being how I was.”

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry—just show me you’re sorry.” He turned and looked at me. His eyebrows came together into one long one. He was angry with me, but trying to hold back for my sake. “Do differently, act better. Stop getting in trouble. Accept help for yourself. That is the ultimate sorry.”

“Okay.”

New Horizons was in the background somewhere, behind us. It would be always something I remembered though. Like Sharon suggested. Because we were allowed to remember everything about our lives. Bad and good things. It was all we could do on our own. Cabin 519 had woken me up, shocked me to life, and I hoped it was enough for the other residents inside of it too.