Touching the Surface (8 page)

“Leave her alone,” Oliver said. He must’ve snuck up behind me.

Leaving me alone seemed like the last thing that Trevor wanted to do. His face was anything but inviting, yet he was
looking at me like I had something that belonged to him and he wasn̵ off and heade

11

revelations

I braced myself, expecting to be swept away in his anger and hatred, waiting for the vise to tighten.

“He’s my brother.”

It was a quiet and simple statement and I couldn’t get a lock on the motivation behind it. Then I remembered Trevor’s despair at Oliver’s funeral, his crumpled form.

Oliver tugged at my hand, but I let my fingers slip from his grasp. For the first time, I tried to see everything from Trevor’s point of view. I didn’t want to admit it, but his new memories must’ve been as shocking to him as mine were to me. It didn’t matter how big of an ass he was, his Delve to the gravesite had been heart wrenching.

I decided to extend the olive branch. It was obvious that he’d
been hurt too. Like Mel had suggested, maybe we were in this together. Besides, he didn’t have a Passenger watching out for him.

I glanced up at Trevor. Correction. I obviously wasn’t in anything with anyone. Julia moved forward and entwined her fingers with his. The placement of each finger was like the tumblers of a lock falling into place. She was on one side and I was on the other, separated by a wall of Trevor. I focused on the newest slogan printed in neon across his chest. reason for being here. through ll

HOW CAN I MISS YOU IF YOU WON’T GO AWAY?

He was hateful! I was trying and he was so—

I scrolled through my mental list of nasty phrases and they all seemed to apply.

Arrogant.

Destructive.

Cocky.

Insensitive.

Rude.

Conniving.

Manipulative.

Ugly—I threw that one in just because I felt like it. Finally, convinced I had enough anger in me to hold my ground, I faced him. His jaw was clenched so tight it pulsed, and I felt myself wilting under his gaze. All my bravado melted into puddles at my feet.

My weakness made me hate him more. The fact that he had Julia and I didn’t was unbearable. I rushed past Oliver and out the door.

•  •  •

I skipped lunch and snuck up to my room. I had one ear tuned toward the door, listening for the delicate dance of Julia’s footsteps. This was the first time I was hoping she wouldn’t show up. If I heard her coming, I might seriously consider hiding under the bed.

I’d expected to feel safe up here, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I couldn’t block out the vision of Julia sucking face with Trevor or stop remembering Oliver bloodied and broken.

I broke him.

I flipped back and forth between self-loathing and confusion. I winced as a fresh strip of cuticle was torn from my ring finger, a hapless victim of my emotions. I started picking at the next finger while I paced. I couldn’t remember her, but I so wanted my mom right now.

What about Oliver’s mom? She must be devastated. She wasn’t aware that he was safe and happy, here with me. She couldn’t comprehend that he loved the girl who’d taken him away. She might be struggling to believe there even
was
an afterlife. Did she have moments where she wondered if her baby had been erased?

I flashed back to the look on her face, when she knew without a doubt that Oliver was gone. The raw, visceral noises that poured out of her soul as she ran to him.

I could hear the hum and feel my legs quivering. The lights were going out again. This memory was the last place I ever wanted to return to but it seemed like my intense emotions were the trigger for these unexpected Delves. I threw out my hands in protest but . . .

•  •  •

I couldn’t watch anymore. I couldn’t move. Horror anchored my feet to the earth. I could hear sirens in the distance, but they were too late.

Too late to save Oliver.

Too late to save me.

Too damn late.

Staring at my feet, I noticed my hand. It had blood on it. Curled between my fingers was a cell phone filled to capacity with the indescribable cries of my mom.

I flipped the phone shut. It slid from my fingers and clattered to my feet. I was alone, wishing for my mother and realizing that I didn’t deserve to have her comfort me.

The little girl in the car seat wailed and I could hear the sirens coming closer in the moments when Oliver’s mom quieted, pressing her lips to his dirt-streaked face. Her silence only lasted as long as it took for her mind to rewrap itself around the trunk of that tree. It was agonizing to watch. Then
her head shot up and she blazed with accusation. She burned from the inside out and all her fire was directed at me. She knew what I’d done.

•  •  •

I woke up sprawled across my bed, with the sun peeking up over the trees. I must have staggered over before falling into that Delve. I didn’t know if my exhaustion was from the heart-wrenching memories or if it was a shut-off valve for having taken in too much information. Either way I’d slept through the night. I was grateful. Sleep had been a reprieve from the problems that were never going to go away.

Looking around, I realized Julia wasn’t here, but she had been. Two more paper cranes lay on my pillow. Now I had three of them.

There was a persistent tap at the door. “Elliot, open up.” The voice was male and authoritative. I must’ve processed the words a little too slowly, because as I glanced up he was coming through the door.

“David?”

What was he doing in my room? I didn’t see a hospitality basket with muffins.

David stood in the middle of my sanctuary and slowly rotated 360 degrees. My fingers reached up and clutched a lock of my hair, trying to find something tangible to hold on to while my space was being invaded.

“So, this is where Mel stashed you.” He sniffed and a plug of phlegm shifted and rattled. “I suppose Freddie had something to do with it too.”

Was I supposed to say something? This guy was utter kryptonite—rendering all my best snarky retorts useless in his presence. My brain rattled around like a squeaky hamster wheel. I closed my mouth for fear of drooling and giving him more ammunition.

“I imagine you’re wondering what I’m doing up here,” he said, as his fat fingers molested the fuzzy blanket tossed over the end of my bed. He plucked one of Julia’s cranes, sending it flying into the limbo space between my bed and the wall. I could feel cold sweat pooling in very unattractive places.

“Mel asked me to check on you since she’s busy spending time with Trevor. You remember Trevor?”

“Trevor and Mel are together?” I choked out the words.

When I looked up, David’s bushy mustache could barely disguise a smirk. The twinkle in his eyes showed how much he enjoyed my distress.

I stared at him but found myself sliding backward toward the headboard of my bed, bracing myself for his next verbal attack. I didn’t have to wait long.

“You seem confused, Miss Turner. Did you expect her to come and corection. ̶

12

still
waters
run deep

I’d killed Oliver. But then there was Trevor. I hadn’t made the connection until now:
two
boys were dead from one family. Thinking about it caused my stomach to twist and knot.

I pinched myself, forcing my mind to focus on something else besides the horror film in my head. Taking a deep breath I glanced around once more. David had disappeared, but the overpowering scent of his cologne lingered, polluting my safe haven. It didn’t really matter. The truth was that no place was safe anymore. I hightailed it to the stairs.

Common sense dictated that I couldn’t hide from any of this, but my feet seemed to have other ideas. I walked down to the water and followed the shoreline away from the Haven, Mel’s Workshop, and the smell of David.

I was gagging on my guilt as I headed for the lake. I needed to escape, get out of my own head. I seriously thought about taking up drinking, but I was already too aware of how revealing my sober bursts of emotional creativity could be. Drinking at the Obmil could cause quite a show. I didn’t want to be a sloppy mess. As it was, I could barely meet the eyes of the people who’d Delved with me.

I plodded forward. The soft, sandy beach was getting progressively rockier. Before I knew it, I was climbing boulders and hugging sheer rock walls. Sweat dripped from my brow, and my thoughts narrowed to a pinpoint of focus. My palm stung from gripping a knife-sharp handhold.

I tried to increase my speed and slammed my knee into the wall of granite. I could feel a bruise rising to the surface. I let out a hiss and rubbed the tender spot. I’d have to concentrate more in order to move forward safely. A chuckle escaped at the thought. “Hello, dummy, you’re dead and can’t be injured.” I said it aloud to myself. Old habits die hard. The living are wired for self-preservation and I’d never been able to shake those instincts over the course of my visits.

Once when I’d been eighty-year-old Arty, I was goofing around, trying to make silly faces at a child who wasn’t?mime=image/jpg" width="3suunderstand interested in eating her dinner. In the middle of my theatrics, I tipped over my glass and it shattered on the floor. In the
scramble to pick up the broken pieces, I’d sliced open the palm of my hand. Blood oozed through my fingers. Spots danced across my vision. Just as I began to panic, Mel asked me to stop for a moment and picture the wound healed. The image was in my head no more than a few seconds before the cut and the blood were gone. I asked her what would have happened if I hadn’t pictured myself fixed. Would I have sat there bleeding and suffering forever?

She’d laughed, assuring me that the process was automatic and would kick in by itself. We simply had the capacity to hasten our own ability to be healed.

A sigh escaped from my lips. I could create weather and buildings. I could make the world around me appear just like I envisioned it. I could make myself whole, too. Well, at least physically whole. Mel also seemed to think that if I tried hard enough, spiritual and emotional wellness could be mine for the asking. It sounded nice, but I had my doubts.

The rocky terrain leveled off as I moved away from the lake. I found myself walking through a shady forest of old growth trees. There was no path. This was clearly a manifestation of my own state of mind, proof that I had no idea what direction my life should be taking. I squinted. I’d stepped out of the cool and quiet darkness of the woods into the sunlight. The sudden movement from dark to light blinded
me, so I took a step back and shaded my eyes with my hand.

In front of me was a pond. I could smell its earthiness now that I was paying attention to my senses. The outer edges were decorated with a filigree of lily pads and blossoms. On one side, across from where I stood, there was an army of reeds and cattails fencing in the perimeter. The bull’s-eye ripples on the face of the water gave away the last location of a small frog. Directly across from me was a small peninsula of land that jutted out into the placid water. A tiny, cedar-roofed gazebo—really just an awning over a bench—caught my eye. I exhaled, not realizing until then that I’d been holding my breath.

The whole scene was beautiful, but I hadn’t created it, so who had? This place was so achingly lovely and relaxing. It had to be someone’s creation, but I’d never heard about it, so I must have stumbled across someplace private. There were some legendary places at the Obmil that souls passed down. If I left here and told Julia about the pond, and later she came searching for it, she might actually find something that was pretty darn similar because my vision had become her vision. Not like that would actually happen, the way things were between us.

I scanned the banks of the pond. No one was here. I moved to the left and circled around. I felt as if I should be cautious,
but the calmness of the place balanced out the strangeness of not knowing where the mysterious creator was.

That’s when I saw him. Trevor was sprawled out on the very tip of the peninsula. He’d been hidden from view by a clump of wild grasses growing by the water’s edge. His eyes were closed and he was soaking up the sun. He appeared relaxed, and obviously he was, if he could create such a tranquil place to rest. His chest was free of his usual taunts and it rose and fell slowly as he breathed. What was he doing out here? David had told me that he was off Delving with Mel. I wondered who’d been lying.