Blur (Blur Trilogy) (21 page)

But now things were different. He’d moved from the world of ordinar
y
to the fringes of insanit
y.

All in a matter of da
ys
.

How much does it take to push
yo
u over the edge? There’s alwa
ys
a tipping point, like with an avalanch
e—a
lwa
ys
that seemingl
y
inconsequential matter of a few snowflakes that makes all the difference.

And then, once the avalanche starts, there’s no holding it back.

Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if one of these visions would do that, push him over the edge in a wa
y
that he wouldn’t be able to recover from.

Once
yo
u slip into madness, can
yo
u ever climb out of it again?

Gra
yl
and.

Caught between black and white.

Between good and evil.

Now there was a scar
y
thought.

He surfed the Web for info about da
ym
ares and nightmares and found that normal people t
yp
icall
y
have a few disturbing nightmares a
ye
ar. Artistic and extraordinaril
y
creative peopl
e—p
ainters, sculptors, composers, novelist
s—m
ight have several of them a month.

Schizophrenics might have several vivid, disturbing dreams ever
y
week.

Some while the
y’
re awake.

It seemed that the barrier between realit
y
and fantas
y
was thicker for some people than for others. And for him, it was becoming thinner and thinner.

Or ma
yb
e it wasn’t even there at all an
ym
ore.

With that on his mind, he went to take the garbage to the curb and found the front door locked and dead-bolted shut.

Dad did that to keep
yo
u in. So if
yo
u sleepwalk
yo
u won’t get outside.

Of course, it would have been possible for someone who was sleepwalking to unlock a door just as easil
y
as it might have been for him to open it. Still, as far as Daniel knew, his dad never dead-bolted that door, and the fact that he had done so tonight just confirmed how concerned he was.

Back inside the house, after taking care of the trash, Daniel tried texting Stac
y.

No repl
y.

His mattress was still damp from last night, so he pulled out his sleeping bag again.

Before climbing in, he took a moment to slide his dresser in front of his door. He didn’t know if it would help, but just in case he did tr
y
to leave during the night to look for Akira’s corpse, it might slow him down.

CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO

No problems with sleepwalking last night.

Thankfull
y.

At school, K
yl
e asked him again to introduce him to Stac
y,
and Daniel promised that he would, even though it was going to be an awkward conversation because she’d stood him up on Saturda
y
night.

“Remember how we were talking about visiting the cemeter
y?
” K
yl
e asked.

“Yeah.”

“I think we should go after
yo
ur football practice this afternoon. I work for a few hours at Rizzo’s after school, but I get off at six.”

“In the middle of the supper rush?”

“He has someone else coming in.”

“You reall
y
think we’ll find something at the grave
ya
rd?”

K
yl
e shrugged. “Who knows. Ma
yb
e it’ll bring
yo
u some of those answers
yo
u’ve been looking for.”

Daniel remembered that St. Andrew’s Cemeter
y
was listed in the bulletin from Emil
y’
s funeral as the place where the
y
were going to hold the graveside service.

“And,” K
yl
e suggested, “ma
yb
e it’ll help
yo
u not to sleepwalk if
yo
u go out there. You know, if thinking about going to the grave
ya
rd caused
yo
u to do that the other night with Akira.”

The
y
agreed to meet at St. Andrew’s at six thirt
y.

After third hour, Daniel checked his texts and saw one from his dad. He’d been able to set up an appointment with the ps
yc
hiatrist next Wednesda
y
at four o’clock. “I’ll talk to
yo
ur coach if
yo
u want me to, get
yo
u cleared to miss practice,” he wrote.

Daniel had missed football practice last night, and the prospect of missing another one next week was not thrilling.

“What about tmrw?” he texted his dad back. “No school.”

“Tried that. This is the earliest he can get
yo
u in.”

“I’ll tell Coach m
ys
elf,” Daniel t
yp
ed.

He met up with Nicole after fourth hour and returned her earring. The
y
spoke for a few moments about Saturda
y
night. She thanked him for finding the earring, and after she left for class he checked his phone. Still no texts from Stac
y.
He hadn’t seen her all da
y.
Ma
yb
e she was sick. Or ma
yb
e she was purposel
y
avoiding him.

He had the inclination to search the halls for her some more, but in the end he decided that he’d looked for her, texted her, called her enough. If she wanted to talk to him, she had his number. At this point it was up to her.

The rest of the afternoon and football practice went b
y
in a refreshingl
y
normal wa
y.
It was good to have things not slide an
y
further through the barrier between fantas
y
and realit
y.

After practice, Daniel told Coach Warner that he was going to miss practice next Wednesda
y
because he had to see a doctor.

“You went to a doctor
ye
sterda
y,
” Coach said ambiguousl
y.

“This is . . .” Daniel didn’t want to get into tr
yi
ng to explain wh
y
he had to see a shrink. “Well, it’s sort of a follow-up.”

“An
yt
hing I should be concerned about?”

“No. I’m good to pla
y
this week. Don’t worr
y.
”

“Keep me posted.”

“I will.”

On the wa
y
to the grave
ya
rd to meet K
yl
e, he got a call from the Ohio State recruiter who’d been at the game Frida
y
night. He asked Daniel how he was; he told him he was fine, thanked the gu
y
for following up, and the
y
set up a time next week to connect again.

The road leading into St. Andrew’s Cemeter
y
hadn’t been maintained well and morphed from pavement to gravel almost as soon as it left the count
y
highwa
y
and entered the cemeter
y
grounds.

When he arrived, he saw K
yl
e waiting for him with both Nicole and Mia beside him.

CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE

When the
y
greeted each other Daniel found out K
yl
e had asked Mia to come and she’d asked Nicole.

“Reminds me of girls alwa
ys
heading off to the bathroom together,” K
yl
e observed. “I mean, can
yo
u imagine a gu
y
being like, ‘Dude, I gotta pee. Wanna come along?
’
 ”

“Ew, that would definitel
y
be wrong,” Mia agreed. “But it’s a different deal for girls, right, Nicole?”

“Absolutel
y.
”

Still, it seemed a little uncharacteristic for Mia to have invited her, and Daniel figured it might’ve just been because he was going to be there.

All four of them had been at this cemeter
y
before, for a school project back in eighth grade.

The
y’
d had to do grave rubbings, holding a piece of paper against a gravestone and then using a charcoal pencil to rub against the paper to transfer the indentations of the dead person’s name and their dates of birth and death onto it.

It was sort of a macabre assignment, and some of the kids reall
y
freaked out about it.

Daniel had rubbed the stone of someone who’d died in 1924. It was a bab
y
bo
y
who’d lived onl
y
seven da
ys
.

Emil
y
Jackson had lived 5,250 da
ys
longer than that bab
y.

Now, counting back, Daniel realized he’d lived 6,103 da
ys
longer.

Numbers.

He just couldn’t help but notice the numbers.

Yeah, Miss Fl
yn
n was right when she’d commented about K
yl
e’s blog entr
y
last week, the one about time sliding down the slopes of his da
ys
. “The sand tumbles down quickl
y
for us all,” she’d told the class.

Grain b
y
grain.

Moment b
y
moment.

Slipping awa
y.

“Do
yo
u know where Emil
y’
s grave is?” Mia’s question to the group drew Daniel out of his thoughts.

“No,” K
yl
e answered. “I sa
y
we spread out to look for it. Pairs. Mia,
yo
u’re with me.”

“You good with that?” Daniel asked Nicole.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“The grave will be fresh,” Mia noted griml
y.
“It’s just a week old.”

The same as that bab
y’
s entire life.

Man, that was a lot to process.

The grave
ya
rd was sprawling and hill
y,
so Daniel figured it might take a little searching to find where Emil
y
was buried. The pines that grew throughout the grounds were going to make it even harder to find the grave.

Twilight.

The sun was low and the shadows long.

Which seemed appropriate for being in a grave
ya
rd.

As the
y
searched, Daniel got to talking with Nicole. He didn’t tell her about the disturbing visions he’d been having, but he did share that he and K
yl
e were starting to have their suspicions that Emil
y
had been killed. “Her brother, Ronnie, told us she knew how to swim.”

“Before
yo
u drove up, K
yl
e said
yo
u two wanted to come out here to see what stuff might have been left on her grave,” Nicole said quietl
y.
“Ma
yb
e b
y
someone who’d been with her when she died.”

The wa
y
she phrased that struck him:
Been with her when she died.
Not,
Killed her.

“Yes.”

“That’s sort of creep
y.
”

“I’m with
yo
u there.”

“You reall
y
think we’ll find an
yt
hing?”

Earlier, when K
yl
e had suggested coming here, the idea had made sense to Daniel, but now as he thought more about it, he wondered if the odds were reall
y
in their favor after all.

Probabl
y
not.

“I reall
y
don’t know.”

When he brought up Emil
y’
s notebook and confided in Nicole that K
yl
e’s name had been written in the margins, she told him she’d heard that a freshman girl had a crush on K
yl
e, but hadn’t known who it was. “Jessica Tra
y’
s sister saw Emil
y
drawing hearts in her notebook one time. Must have been for him.”

The
y
walked over a small rise and found the grave.

Emil
y’
s name and the dates of her birth and death were on a temporar
y
marker, as well as the inscription, “Born to Be Loved.” The
y
must have still been engraving the actual granite gravestone.

Seeing the grave, Daniel thought again of Ronnie’s mom and how strangel
y
she’d acted when he was at their house.

She gave birth to this girl.

And then had to bur
y
her.

It was impossible to imagine how hard that must have been, and despite how tersel
y
the woman had spoken to him, his heart went out to her.

L
yi
ng beside the grave marker were several bouquets of flowers, drooping and wind-whipped from the storms that had savaged the area over the last week.

The flowers made Daniel recall seeing the comments on Emil
y’
s Facebook page, and how he’d thought of that as the twent
y-
first-centur
y
wa
y
of remembering someone.

Apparentl
y,
both wa
ys
were still around.

And that was oka
y.

Somebod
y
had stuck a small pinwheel in the ground, but it was motionless in the still dusk. Beside it were a few framed smiling photos of Emil
y
with Mr. Ackerman’s photograph
y
studio logo in the lower left-hand corner. The
y
were in plastic bags to protect them from the weather, but Daniel saw the necklace draped around her neck in each of them. A couple of stuffed animals had been left b
y
the gravestone and were damp and mud-splattered from the rain the other night.

For a moment neither he nor Nicole spoke. Finall
y,
the
y
called K
yl
e and Mia over to join them.

Together, the four of them stood mutel
y
around Emil
y’
s
grave.

“Hang on a minute,” Mia said. “Those flower
s—I
saw some just like
’e
m over b
y
this other grave.”

She led them across the cemeter
y.

L
yi
ng on a grave near the road, resting tranquill
y
beside the gravestone, was a bouquet of flowers identical to one of those that was on Emil
y’
s grave.

The name on the gravestone: Grace McKinne
y.

Mr. McKinne
y
the freshman math teacher’s wife.

She’d died two summers ago.

The inscription read: “Beloved wife, taken too soon.”

“That’s a little bizarre, don’t
yo
u think?” Mia said. “That these flowers are fresh, just like the ones on Emil
y’
s grave.”

“I don’t know,” replied K
yl
e. “Mr. McKinne
y
probabl
y
came out here to put flowers on Emil
y’
s grave and just brought some for his wife’s grave as well. Or vice versa.”

“Emil
y
had him for a teacher,” Daniel reminded them. “There’s nothing too weird about him leaving flowers on her grave.”

No one had brought up how Grace McKinne
y
died, but now Daniel did. “She didn’t just die. Remember? She drowned.”

Nicole stared at the gravestone. “Yeah. In their swimming pool, wasn’t it? Dove in, hit her head on the bottom?”

“Yes,” Mia replied. “At least, that’s what the
y
said.”

“You don’t think . . . ?” Nicole began.

“I don’t know.”

Daniel led them back to Emil
y’
s grave, and Nicole and Mia attempted to brush the mud off the stuffed animals that’d been left there.

“Should we sa
y
something?” Nicole cradled the tedd
y
bear gentl
y
in her arms. “Ma
yb
e a pra
ye
r or a few words or . . . I don’t know. It just seems like we should . . .”

Mia turned to K
yl
e. “You go.”

He thought for a moment, then said softl
y,
“When I walk in the wa
ys
of the night I breathe in gasps of ragged darkness; when I step into the melod
y
of dawn the shadows begin to recede.” He paused. “I hope
yo
u stepped into the melod
y
of dawn, Emil
y.
I reall
y
do.”

Grain b
y
grain.

Our moments pass awa
y.

And then we do.

Nicole set down the tedd
y
bear. “Wouldn’t the
y
have been able to find out if Emil
y
fell off the cliff? I mean,
yo
u’d think she would have broken some bones when she hit the water or have a lot of internal injuries.”

“I think we would’ve heard about it if she had an
y
broken bones.” Daniel recalled that his dad had told him the
y
did an autops
y
that hadn’t turned up an
yt
hing unusual. He chose not to mention the location of the broken glasses that indicated Emil
y
had most likel
y
not fallen off Wind
y
Point.

Back at their cars, K
yl
e asked Daniel if he could talk with him for a minute, and the two of them stepped awa
y
so the girls wouldn’t hear them.