Surfacing (Spark Saga) (15 page)

“Whoa.  You’re lucky.  So no one else was hurt, right?  What about Dani?  Does she remember it?”

“We haven’t really talked about it that much.  I mean, I was basically dead for four years, so when I woke up, it was like starting all over again.”

“And then you met me.  I still remember that first day back at school.  You were nervous as all get out.”

“I know…you really helped me feel normal again.”  It dawns on me that not only were four years of my own life essentially missing, but I missed four years of Dani’s life
, too.  A lot happened in those four years.  Dani became one of the Beautiful People.  We grew apart because we were apart.  It occurs to me that she must have visited me in the hospital, but of course, I don’t remember it.  As hard as it was for me to wake up with a big blank spot in my mind, it must have been hard for her, too, to watch her best friend go through such a traumatic injury.  She did the only thing she could…she went on with her life.  Which explains why things have been so awkward and distant between us.  We are different people now.  And for the first time, I’m ok with that.

“So how are you doing,” Cricket asks.  “I mean, in general.  How do you feel?  I mean, after the second hospital visit—and, by the way, was it related to the first one?  And what happened with that anyway?”

“I’m not sure, really.  I was at the park, where it all happened four years ago, and somehow I blacked out.”

“Blacked out…so was lightning involved?”

“Apparently.  I really don’t remember.”

“Wow, you were lucky.  So…Fuller Park…do you think it’s strange that one of our messages was there?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah, I guess.  But it’s a public park, so who knows…it’s probably just a coincidence.”

“And the old building…I mean, seriously.  You took me there—before.  Don’t you find that freaky?  I mean, come on!”

“Well, my memory is definitely affected.  The doctor said so.  Who knows?”

“Ok, old building.  Fuller Park.  The graveyard.  There’s something going on, Tess.”

“You have an over-active imagination, Cricket.”

“Seriously?  No way
all that’s a coincidence.”

I have to admit, it is a bit strange, but what does it matter?  It’s not like any of that is going to magically give m
e my memory back—or is it?  She has me thinking now.  “What’s your theory?”

             
“I don’t know.  I mean, there’s a connection there somewhere.  Hey, didn’t you say Zach and his parents used to hang out with you?”

             
“Yeah, so?”

             
“
Well…
the grave, remember?  Zach was there.  It was his dad.  What’s up with that?”

             
“I don’t know, Cricket.  You’re giving me a headache.”   I’m suddenly feeling nervous about the whole game/dance weekend.  Maybe I should have just stayed home.  “Let’s just drop it and have fun, ok?”

             
“All right, but tomorrow night, we’re still on, right?  For the messages?”

             
“Sure, just don’t try to psycho-analyze me, ok?  It’s just a game.”

             
“Why would I psycho-analyze you?”  Cricket scoffs.

             
“I don’t know, maybe because you’re obsessed with all this, and I have a bad memory.”

             
“I’m not obsessed!  I’m just curious….”

             
“And crazy.  So, how many points is a touchdown again?”

             
Cricket laughs.  “You’re in for a good time, sister.  Let’s go!” 

             
“Ok, but I still don’t get football.”

             
“Trust me.  You will before the night is over.  Go Tigers!”

             
I smile.  Her enthusiasm is slightly contagious.  And anyway, it will be nice to just not think about things for a while.  Like how much I want those four years back, and how much I don’t understand, but hope, someday, that I will.  And how afraid I am that I won’t be able to measure up to what others expect of me because I’m missing something. 

             
Cricket parks the car and turns to me with a sharp sigh.  “Ok, what about Zach Webb?”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“I mean, you said he stopped to talk to you today.”

             
“So?”

             
“What’s the deal?”

             
“I don’t know… why does there have to be a deal?”

             
“Because the cutest guy in school—quarterback of the football team—approached you, after school, on the day of the big game.”

             
I have to say, it did surprise me. 

             
“Not to mention that he is Dani’s boyfriend.”

             
“So you think he likes me.”  A statement, not a question.

             
“Yeah, maybe.  You have to admit, there are a lot of weird things going on.”

             
I point to the field.  “The game’s starting in five minutes.”

             
“Ok, but trust me.  We are gonna figure all this weirdness out.”

             
“Good luck with that and would you please let me know when you figure out how to eradicate weirdness all together, cuz I’ve got some extra I need to get rid of.”

             
I wonder if I’ll ever get used to my crazy life.  It’s stranger than fiction.

Zach

              I have a bad feeling five minutes into the first quarter when I throw an interception and the defense runs it back for a touchdown.  We are already losing.  But, I shake the thought, and gather my team to rework the plays.  No way am I going to let them see my disappointment.  Instead, I give them a hard look of resolve and say, “We got plenty of time to win this thing.  Now let’s get out there.  Don’t back down!”

             
The next quarter gets away from us pretty quickly.  By half-time, I have thrown sixteen passes and only completed eight.  I’ve been sacked three times and we’re down, 13 to 7.  I know I’m not really paying attention.  In fact, I can’t tell you what exactly I’ve been focused on, but it’s not football.  My mind is sort of doing its own thing, I think.  I’m angry at myself because I’m supposed to be leading my team, and instead, I’m completely out of it.  Both Tess and Dani have crossed my mind throughout the game, but I thought I’d been aware enough to not let it get to me.  Apparently, I was wrong.

             
The team meets for a brief time before I have to go meet Dani for the half-time show.  She comes out wearing a nice beige silk blouse with a bow at the neck and a charcoal gray skirt with high heels.  Her hair is down but the top of it is pulled back. She looks stunning, as usual.

             
As we line up with the other homecoming candidates, she loops her arm through mine and grins at me.  “Hang in there,” she says.  “The game’s not over yet.”

             
“You look amazing,” I reply, suddenly forgetting the miserable first half of the game.  I reach up and wipe my forehead.  “Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”

             
“You look tough and handsome,” she whispers.  “And perfect.”

             
“I hope you win…and even if you don’t, you’re still my Homecoming Queen.”

             
She giggles and looks ahead nervously, waiting for her name to be called.  We walk forward and turn to face the crowd.  The band assembles on the field in their black and gold uniforms and stands at attention.

             
When the announcer calls her name as the winner, she looks at me with genuine surprise and hugs me.  “Congratulations, sweetie,” I say.  “I’m proud of you.  I knew you’d get it.”

             
As last year’s Homecoming Queen comes forward to give Dani her crown, the band starts up and black and gold balloons fill the sky.  She looks at me shyly and I kiss her cheek.

              The second half of the game is nothing short of a miracle.  I keep thinking about my dad, for some reason, and how I wish he was here.  I look at my mom, cheering me on, and I imagine my dad sitting next to her.  He was always encouraging me.  Even when I played tee-ball and soccer, my dad was always there.  He had never played sports himself, but he was always involved in whatever I was doing.  It was a big surprise, in sixth grade, when I told him I wanted to play football.  He looked at me like I just sprouted wings or something.  “You want to do what?  Football?”

             
I’d explained how I’d watched my friends play and how we’d played touch football at the park on the weekends, how I was hooked on the whole teamwork concept.  He’d taken a deep breath and said, “Well, you aren’t big, but you’re quick on our feet.  You’ll make a good quarterback, for sure.” 

             
My dad may not have understood my desire to play football, but he understood my enthusiasm, and he encouraged me, which was enough to inspire me to be the best I could be at the game, but also in life. 

             
As I analyze the game, call the plays, and make my moves, his words keep running through my mind: 
I have few regrets in my life, but one of them was leaving both of you behind.  This haunts me every day. 

             
It seems foolish to believe that my father has spoken to me, somehow, from beyond the grave, but if time travel is real, then how can it not be possible.  This realization motivates me through the remainder of the game.  I am focused, determined.  If it is in the realm of possibility that we will win this victory, I will exhaust my ability to do so.  I feel a surge of power and resolve that I’ve never experienced before.  By the last time out of the game, huddled with my team members, it’s like I’ve already seen the future.  We are one touchdown away from winning this thing, and I have no doubt we can accomplish that.  “The future is ours,” I tell my team.  “Get out there and claim it.”

             
We have one last chance.  With forty-two seconds on the clock, we’ve made it to the forty yard line and I have to move the team sixty yards to score.  I make the play to the wide receiver, John, and he completes it to score.  We’re tied and win it with a winning kick.  The crowd roars, and the team runs out to tackle John on the field.  We have just won the Homecoming game.  Black and gold swirls in the stands, the band starts up again, and I am dizzy with relief.  Coach Brown slaps me on the back and chuckles, “Way to go guys!  Way to go.”

              I am leaning against my car, my arms wrapped around Dani—me in my grimy uniform and her in her suit, the tiara on her head.  We are surrounded by team members and friends, who are still screaming victory.  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Cricket, Tess and Alex in the group.  With slight hesitation, I give Dani a kiss and someone screams, “Yeah for Mr. and Miss Homecoming!!!  Go Tigers!  Woot!” 

             
Dani giggles and hugs me tight.  “I love you,” she whispers.  “This is gonna be the best weekend ever.”

             
“It already is,” I agree, hugging her back.

             
I look up and the sky is filled with stars, the full moon gleaming.  I can’t imagine a better feeling….Winning the game, in the arms of Dani Chase, arguably the best looking girl in school.  Still, a scene flashes in my mind.  It is of a stormy sky, strobes of lightning, a young dark-haired girl standing in the open yard, gazing upward.  If I imagine it just right, I can almost remember the feeling of sudden fear—the sensation that I needed to move forward, get this girl out of harm’s way.  What was I thinking, at that moment, specifically?  What had we been playing?  What words were spoken between us?  Maybe not much.  I mean, we were just kids.  Maybe nothing, but something compelled me, and I acted—at least, according to my father.  I’ve thought about asking my mom about that night, but I don’t want to upset her.  And anyway, she wasn’t there, at that precise moment—my dad was—so, it’s not like she could give me much insight.  I look up at the moon again, pausing briefly to scan the crowd, and there is Tess, looking directly at me.  It’s as if the moonlight has cast a spotlight right on her eyes and they are like black jewels, touched by sparks.  Is there a hint of some recognition there?  I can’t tell.  I look away, my stomach gripped with a mixture of desire and fear.  Somewhere, on a computer chip that is lost to the present time, Tess and I are together.  We are standing in the pale light of a kitchen, and I am down on one knee, completely immersed in her.  I want to marry her, and she responds with a shy smile and a nod.  My heart is full.  We have been through so much—perhaps as much as the Time Traveler himself, having journeyed to the end of the earth and back, returning humbled, and changed, for good. 

             
Is this—this lovely, petal of a moment—real?  Or is it fiction?  And if the phrase “only time will tell” ever had a place in my life, will it present itself?  Will love itself wrap its knowing tendrils about my mind and relieve me of this uncertainty?  When.  When will I know what the future holds?