Pieces of Hope (49 page)

By the
time I came back to the present moment, our elevation had changed to such a
degree that snow covered the ground in a thick shag carpet. Daniel had already tied
off his burro. Reaching for my reins, he tied off Bob as I slid off his backside.
Then, with a single thought, Daniel pulled a woolly-looking blanket out of
nowhere and spread it out on a flat spot in our little clearing. I followed his
lead and lay down on my stomach. Propped up on my elbows, I pretended to wait
excitedly for something. I thought I should try to get into the spirit of
things. Daniel did the same, but without any pretense. He looked about to
burst.
 

 
In the Fir trees around us, large brown blobs
of tangled leaves hung heavily from the branches. It looked like something out
of a Sci-Fi flick, the kind where an alien being invades a sleepy little town.
I wondered where the time had gone. Then again, my mind had a tendency to
wander. Already, it was nightfall and the moon was high. I shivered as I waited
for the sun to rise above the tree line and warm me up. It surprised me the way
this phantom limb stuff worked. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought
I was still alive.

I
listened. There it was again—the surprisingly phantom beating of my heart.
 

I
shivered once more and Daniel threw another blanket over us, snuggling me under
one of his long arms. It was the kind of touching gesture that instantly,
terribly, badly made me miss Ethan. But I knew it was too soon to see him. I
guessed he needed some time and maybe I did, too. I hated myself for hurting
him like that. He’d probably never forgive me.

Daniel must
have heard my thoughts. He didn’t move his arm, but as I felt a gentle tug on
my fingertips, I tried to close my mind.

“Whatever
happened between you and what’s-his-name at that party, anyway? I take it the
guy didn’t crack open his skull when he fell.” Daniel sounded indifferent, like
he could have cared less either way. I had hoped dying might have made him more
compassionate.
        

“Not
much to tell,” I answered. “He was planning a payback for your sucker punch. Said
he couldn’t wait for you to wake up so he could beat the life out of you.”

Daniel
smirked at me as if to say
Good luck with
that
.

So I
asked, “And what did
Gavriel
and the other ‘
Iels
’ want with you anyway?”

“Not
much to tell,” he mimicked. “They were looking for a new superhero and were
trying to recruit me for the team. Just between you and me, I’ve been working
on a catchy superhero name. Something that rolls off your tongue yet sticks in
your head. I’m thinking about calling myself Chick Magnet . . .”

I
smirked back as if to say
Good luck with
that.

We both
burst into laughter. Even dead, it felt good. It felt very, very good.

Several
minutes later, the sun appeared on the tree line, illuminating the snow like
scattered bits of diamond dust. Before my startled eyes, the huge brown blobs suspended
in the Fir trees started to stir. They weren’t leaves at all. I could see bits
of bright orange dotted with what looked like small black eyes.

As I
watched, astonished, Daniel started talking in his tour guide voice. “When the
Monarchs come to nestle in these trees, there’s a special celebration that
takes place. It’s called the Day of the Dead. It’s not what it sounds like.
It’s really more of a celebration of life than death.”

The
blobs in the trees continued stirring as he spoke, shifting and moving, taking
on their newer form—millions of fragile, winged creatures.

“On that
day, it’s believed that the souls of the dead are carried here—carried here on
butterfly wings. And in this sacred place, on that single day of the year, the
living and the dead are reunited. That’s why I brought you here.” From the
corner of my vision, I glimpsed his broad smile. He hesitated, then whispered,
“To be . . . to be closer to your mother.”

“She
travelled here on butterfly wings?” Impulsively, I kissed him, then quickly I
pulled away. My tongue got twisted as I mumbled, “I don’t know what to say, I—”

“Well,
in spirit, you know. I mean, your mother isn’t really here, but—”

“I know
what you mean.” I smiled at him. “It’s the thought that counts, right?” As he
nodded, I felt an insistent tug on the tips of my fingers. Instantly, I balled
them up as if that action alone could keep my thoughts to myself.

What
could he be searching for? Did he wonder how I felt about him at this exact
moment? If so, mind-reading wasn’t required. This was the Daniel that I knew
and loved, over-the-top gestures and all. I used to believe that he was larger
than life. I never knew how right I was.

“Technically,
we missed the actual day,” he continued, “but the butterflies are late this
year.” Throwing a sly smile my way, he added, “Lucky us.”

I
grinned, getting the joke. “Evidently, they aren’t the only things ‘late’ this
year.”

I turned
back to the butterflies. The sun was warming their wings now. I watched as they
sprang open, then closed. Open, then closed. There were living, breathing
masses as far as the eye could see. The sun inched higher above the tree line,
the sky burst into a flame of light and warmth, and suddenly the hillside was
billowing with butterfly confetti as millions of them took off. Even as I
watched, awed, I couldn’t believe how many there were . . .

Oh, but
the sound! The
sound!
Like nothing
I’ve ever heard. Like millions of tiny angel wings—fluttering, fluttering,
fluttering—their delicate desperate bodies crying for flight.

I
flipped onto my back as they continued their haphazard flight. As I lay there,
a few of them hovered just above my face. “They sense you’re here,” Daniel said
in a low voice. “Try to be very still.”

“Daniel,
I’m dead,” I cracked. “I think I can do still.” From my left, Daniel let out a
low groan as a single butterfly danced inches above me. “Don’t they make you
think of tiny, orange Angels?” I examined every exquisite detail. “I’ve never
seen anything, never heard anything . . .” Then it landed on my nose. “
Wowwww
.”

It was
wonderful, but disappointing. Here, I could only sense its presence, not feel
it. Though I’d given it very little thought, travelling without a body in the
living realm didn’t compare to bodiless travel near the Station. There, I could
touch and smell and taste and feel. There, everything felt real. But in the
living realm, absent a body, I could only sense the life around me. Here, I was
the dreaded outsider, a non-entity in the world I once loved so much.
    

Twenty-four
hours passed from the time we set foot in the mountains of Mexico until
the moment we left. But in our sense of time, it seemed to take only a few
minutes. The only way I could tell was because of the rising and setting of the
sun. But no matter how many times I experienced it, I still couldn’t grasp how
swiftly time passed in our bodiless forms.
  

To his
credit, Daniel waited until the very last butterfly had fluttered back into the
Fir trees before making another suggestion. “Feeling up to a little
excitement?”

I knew
that spending two whole days in the company of small bugs wasn’t exactly
Daniel’s style. Even so, I was a little nervous to hear his plans for our next
destination.

“I’d
like to do some Great White leaping. Unless, of course, there’s some knitting
you’d like to take care of. If so, I can wait.” One corner of his mouth twisted
up.
 

I
dreaded the idea of Daniel leaping into another carnivorous animal, but having
only sensed, rather than felt, the butterflies’ presence, I could gather why he
liked it. The adrenaline rush must be off the charts.

Against
my better judgment, I said, “Let’s not keep the big fish waiting.”
  

As
though an invisible curtain had hung there the entire time, Daniel drew back a
huge Fir tree strung with massive, brown blobs—and together we dove into the
turquoise blue waters of the Indian Ocean, just off the southern coast of Bali.

Based on
the location of the sun, it appeared to be noon. Since we were several miles
off shore, bumping into the living wouldn’t be an issue, and this gave me a small
measure of comfort. By now, Daniel was acutely aware of my fear of that
occurring. But ever since my death-defying leap into Ethan, he seemed a little
paranoid that I might begin to enjoy it. Then again, I knew that that had nothing
to do with leaping.

We were
about thirty feet below the surface, swimming faster than the fishes, and
without the aid of any equipment. Needing no air tanks to dive was a definite
plus, but it was depressing not to feel the slippery warmth of the water. A
school of monster-sized fish passed within a hair’s width of me, their
wide-open O-shaped mouths an ominous threat in my current state. I screamed as
one passed through me, got a disgusting fishy taste in my mouth, and shot
twenty feet to my left.

“It’s
just a giant sunfish, Hope—a
Mola-Mola
,” Daniel
laughed. “They won’t eat you, I promise.”

“But it
might swallow me by accident!” I shrieked. I tried to recall when I used to be
brave. It seemed so long ago.

Suddenly,
at one of the spots where the sunlight filtered through the water above us, we
spied a group of Great White sharks. They looked deadly, scary, and
enormous—even from here.

“You
could leap with me,” he suggested. “That way you could feel the water.”

“Stop
listening!” I scowled, balling my hand at his tugging. “I notice you forgot to
mention that I’ll also feel the fish dying when he eats them. How awful . . .
Remember, I was a vegetarian when I was alive.”
 

“You
have no idea what you missed, Goo. Meat taste good!” Daniel sounded like a
hungry caveman.
 

“You
don’t plan on eating any humans while you’re out there, do you?”

“Of
course not!” He laughed harder. “Besides, sharks don’t like the taste of humans
any more than Bengal tigers do. Their being
man-eaters is just a myth.”

“Good to
know,” I muttered under my breath, frantically glancing around for stray
fishes. “I’ll stay right here and pass that along to wayward surfers.”

I
grimaced as Daniel swam straight into the mouth of the nearest Great White and
stayed there. When the shark threw his flattened head my way, his bleak, black
eyes were now a watery bluish-gray. Daniel opened his mouth wide, revealing
triangle-shaped teeth with a double row along the bottom. I could tell that he
was smiling. In a violent swoosh of water, he flicked his powerful tail once
and was gone, chasing after a distant school of
Mola-Mola
fish. The instant
Daniel disappeared; I thought I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye. I
looked again. Nothing. Great, now I was becoming paranoid.
    

Hours
later, I stood inside the barrel of yet another wave. Watching the moonlight
cast prism-like rainbows in every direction, I caught myself daydreaming about
how much Brody would have loved this if he didn’t have such a phobia about the
ocean. Even if I couldn’t feel the liquid on my skin, my vision and reflexes
worked better without a body than with one. I could sense when the massive
barrel of water in which I hovered was near collapse, could see it moving in a
graceful swirl around me, could even pinpoint the single drops of water as they
arced over my head. Too often, I’d let it collapse on me only to have
disappointment set in again.

Still
dry. Still wishing I could taste the salt on my lips, just as I had at my
coming home party. Still missing
him
.
Though it was torturous, I kept reliving the moment when I arrived on that
doorstep without knowing where I was or who was on the other side. I kept
hearing the doorbell ring, kept seeing it open to Ethan’s beautiful, smiling
face.

About time the guest of honor arrived. We’ve
been expecting you.

I’d
stood inside so many waves that I’d lost count, but the sheer magnificence of
the water continued to captivate me—how it curled into a perfect barrel,
seemingly solid, yet not. I was stunned by the complexity and beauty of the
living realm. I had looked past it for eighteen years, and only now after death
did I seem to value it at last. I was so caught up in its splendor, so lost in
my own thoughts that I careened straight out of the water, high above the
monstrous waves when an innocent little voice disrupted my trance.

“Hello,
Hope. You’re a heck of a person to find.”

“Charlotte!” I flew back
down to her and flung my arms around her neck.
Rin
was beside her. Before she had a chance to speak, I hugged her, too. “This is
some surprise!” I said, wondering if they would notice any difference. Did I
look dead to them? “Where have you two been?”

“Where
have
we
been?” Charlotte looked a little startled. “We’ve
been looking all over for you. That’s where we’ve been.”

“If
Gavriel
hadn’t helped us, we might never have found you,”
Rin
grumbled. She looked agitated, much the way Daniel and
Ethan did when they were near each other. “It’s not our fault Daniel was hiding
you in the living realm.”
 

“Hiding
me in the living realm?” I laughed, picturing the movie,
Sixth Sense
and the number of dead people who chased that poor
morose kid around. I hadn’t noticed any since I’d arrived. Typical. Hollywood. “Sure, like
there’s so many dead people here.”

“Dead?” Charlotte looked puzzled.
“Why would you say that?”

Then
Rin
cut in, “Where’s Daniel? Is he somewhere near?”