Destiny Binds (27 page)

Talley glanced at the door, and then sunk into the chair. “What do you want to talk about?”

“What does everyone think happened that night? Where do they think these scratches came from?”

“It was a nice night, so we decided to study outside, like a camping cram session.” I wondered if the speech sounded so rehearsed every time she told it. “You went in the woods to pee. We heard you scream and found you on the ground, bleeding. I saw a flash of an animal disappearing into the woods. Alex had taken off to get help, but he must have gotten confused, because he ran right off the cliff. I tried to make you lie still while I went for help, but you wouldnʼt listen. You went looking for Alex, which is how you ended up losing so much blood.”

“And how exactly did you explain the fact that Alex was naked?” Talley dropped her eyes. “He wasnʼt. He had taken off his shirt to stop your bleeding, but he was wearing pants.”

“But he wasnʼt wearing pants. Did the emergency crew just happen to not notice that?” When the realization hit of what she must have done my stomach heaved. I couldnʼt hold back a strangled scream as white hot pain burned in response.

Talley jumped up and made for the door. “You need medicine.”

“No. I need answers. What really happened?”

“You know what happened.”

“I mean, how is it that everyone thinks you were there the whole time? How did you know that something was wrong?”

“The guys thought they were too far away for me to hear them, and really they were. But then things started going wrong. I couldnʼt hear anything at all and then Jase was in my head, screaming that he hurt you and needed me. I took off without even telling Toby where I was going.”

She came back over and resumed her position on the edge of my bed. “It was an accident, Scout. They never meant to hurt anyone.”

I let out a single hysterical laugh. “An accident? I was there, Talley. They attacked us.”

“They attacked Alex, you got in the way.”

What the hell was this? Talley was defending them when Alex was
dead
? “I was supposed to just sit there and let them kill him?”

“They just wanted to scare him off. They never meant to kill him.” She believed what she was saying, which was even more infuriating than if she was covering for them.

Her phone trilled as I attempted to sort my emotions. She automatically looked at the caller ID and gave me a conflicted look.

“Go ahead. Take it.” We were done anyway.

She walked over to the window, whether to get a better reception or to have a more semi-private conversation I wasnʼt sure. “Hey, have you got anything yet?...Sunday afternoon?” She looked at me and turned back to the window. “Yeah, she may be out by then...Listen, Iʼm actually at the hospital. Can I call you back to finalize things later?” After she hung up, she came over to stand at the end of my bed. Something about the look in her eyes briefly quelled my anger. “That was Tinsley. She wanted to let you know that he has set a time for Alexʼs funeral. Weʼre going to do it Sunday afternoon. Your mom said you should be able to leave by then.”

“Why is Tinsley making funeral arrangements?”

“You remember that aunt Alex had in Montana?” I nodded. “Turns out, she doesnʼt exist. In fact, none of the contact information they provided the school is correct. Since we have no way of reaching the next of kin, the Senior class took up money to pay for a funeral. As class president, planning the actual service became Tinsleyʼs job.”

“What about Liam? I mean, I know they donʼt have much money, but heʼs still his brother.

Shouldnʼt he be making funeral arrangements?”

Talley examined the bags hanging from my IV pole as she spoke. “No one has seen Liam since he carried you into the emergency room.”

“Since he did what?”

“After Alex fell, Jase and Charlie started howling for help. Liam was hunting close by. He was already carrying you out of the woods when I got there.” Her eyes met mine once again.

“It was just like my vision. You were laying across his arms, blood everywhere.” Something was off. Wrong. There was too much that didnʼt add up. Too many questions without answers. Too much to process. Fortunately, the nurse came with her syringe of liquid oblivion, saving me from trying.

***

We got to the cemetery just before the service started. I was wearing a light black cotton dress that was two sizes too big so it wouldnʼt agitate my sutures. Dad pushed my wheelchair along the uneven ground as gently as possible.

The entire school turned out for the memorial service. I doubted even half of them had actually known Alex. They thought they were grieving for the boy who died, but really they were just mourning their long held sense of immortality.

Everyone stared at me as we made our way to the front. My hospital room had been filled with cards, flowers, and balloons from fellow classmates, yet every time I looked over the crowd eyes darted away like cockroaches scurrying from the light. The Scout Donovan who stood at Deathʼs door was a beloved friend of the entire Senior class. Scout Donovan, the survivor, was merely a spectacle, a topic of conversation.

I briefly wondered if it should bother me.

Since Alex was not active in any of the local churches, the service was conducted mostly by the high school administration and staff. Our principal, Mrs. Tavers, started by talking about the tragedy of losing someone so young. Several of Alexʼs teachers got up and spoke about what a good student he was and his positive attitude. Mrs. Sole was the only one that talked about him like she actually knew him, although most of her speech was unintelligible through the sobs. After the eulogies, Jane Potts did an emotionally draining acoustic version of “When Soul Meets Body”. The service ended with a prayer led by another senior, David McGowan, who was heading to seminary in the Fall.

And then it was over. The whole of Alexʼs life had been reduced to a generic grave side service attended by people who never knew him in any way that mattered. I wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.

“Baby, do you want to go say good-bye?” Dad nodded towards the casket where several people had gathered, most of them leaning on one another for support.

I did want to say good-bye. I wanted at least one person who knew him, who loved him, to stand by his casket and acknowledge the life that was lost and could never be replaced, but there were so many people. People who watched me through the entire service, waiting for some response. People who wanted to see me break down, wanted to witness my grief. What were they saying about me? About my relationship with Alex? About what happened that night?

Why on earth did I care?

“Yes, please.”

The group of mourners parted as Dad wheeled me forward. I saw groups of people turning to look at me. For the first time in my life, I truly didnʼt care what they thought. If they wanted a show, fine. I would give them one.

The casket was, of course, closed. I was grateful. I had already seen his face pale and unmoving once before, I couldnʼt stomach doing it again.

There was a photo sitting on top. Normally it would have been a Senior picture, but Alex had never got around to doing those. Instead, it was a candid shot, obviously taken from a cell phone. He looked like a kid at Christmas, joy seeping from every pore. I had already forgotten how beautiful he was when he was like that.

I stretched out my hand and placed it on the casket, ready to say my goodbyes, but the words got stuck in my throat. I stared at the plain wooden box, my thoughts and emotions in chaos. I knew it was impossible. I watched him die; he was gone. Yet I was certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the casket was empty.

If I hadnʼt been sitting down I would have collapsed.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts I didnʼt notice I was no longer alone.

“He was in love with you, you know.” Ashley Johnson was wearing what Iʼm sure passed as appropriate funeral clothes in her book - a black mini-dress, four-inch heels, and Jackie O

glasses. “Heʼs looking at you in that picture. Normally he looked so bored, but the moment you were around he lit up like the Fourth of July.” She swatted her hand at a tear that trickled down from beneath the glasses. “God, Iʼm such a horrid person.” Why was she talking to me? Couldnʼt she see that I was in the middle of something? I wanted her to go away so that I could think.

“I took that picture,” she said with a tear saturated voice. “I took lots of them. Pictures of you two together when you thought no one was watching. Pictures of you sneaking off into closets and empty classrooms.

“Do you know how hard it is to live in your shadow? How hard it is to look at your perfect family, your perfect best friend, your perfect grades and know that nothing in my life will ever live up to that? You have always had everything and then you took him too.” It was as if she was suddenly speaking Mandarin. What was she prattling on about? And why would she think that I cared? I needed her to leave me alone.

“I just wanted to take something away from you, to knock you down a level. So I took pictures to gather proof. Jase would have never believed me if I just told him outright. He hates me. You made sure of that.

“On prom night I gave Jase the pictures and told him how I overheard your plans to meet the next night. He was livid. He started rambling about full moons and suicide attempts and God only knows what else. Charlie, however, was completely sober and unmoved. He gave me my pictures back and told me to go have inappropriate relations with myself.” The waterworks started, mascara tracks ruining her flawlessly made-up face. “When Tinsley called to tell me you were in the emergency room, I was happy. Happy.” She let out a short bark of a laugh, loud enough that several people turned to look at her. “I thought Jase had come looking for you and found you with Alex. I thought...I thought you two had gotten into a fight, a real knock-down, drag-out fight with all of your karate kicks and judo chops. I imagined you with a black eye, maybe a broken arm. And then they said that you werenʼt expected to live through the night, and I
knew
it wasnʼt Jase, but still I felt so guilty. Like it was my fault that coyote attacked you.”

I had to be emotionally numb. That was the only way to describe it. I didnʼt feel angry or horrified or pity or any emotion that would have made sense. I felt nothing. Nothing at all.

“Remember that time I got the stomach flu when you were staying at my house? You stayed up with me all night, holding my hair back every time I puked.” The sun peaked out from behind a cloud reflecting off the snot that ran out of her nose. “You were a good friend, and I screwed it up. I miss you.”

I couldnʼt even pretend to feel the same. “Do you still have those pictures of Alex and me together?”

“Theyʼre still in the Gucci clutch I took to prom.”

“Can I have them?” I hoped what my mouth was doing looked more like a smile than a grimace. “I donʼt have any pictures of him.”

“Of course! Iʼll even put them in an album and everything!” The thing about Ashley was that she was easy to comfort, always had been. Her guilt was instantly assuaged by my request, our friendship restored in her mind. That wasnʼt to say she wouldnʼt try to sabotage my life yet again tomorrow, but for now she was pacified.

Ashley started to babble on about something or another to do with what I had missed at school over the past week, now oblivious to the open grave not five feet from where we were standing. I was resisting the urge to push her in when Talley appeared at my elbow. She tactfully got me away from Ashley, noting that I was beginning to burn under the midday sun, and escorted me towards a small crop of trees.

The moment we separated ourselves from the masses, a man cut across the cemetery towards us. When Talley saw him she whispered a profanity under her breath, putting me on guard.

He was solidly built, possibly in his forties or fifties. He might have passed for attractive at some point in his life, but now he just looked worn out. A scar ran from his right temple down to the corner of his lip, mangling his bushy eyebrow as it passed through.

“Harper Donovan?” His accent was unusual. I thought it could be Eastern European or maybe even Russian.

“Yes, Iʼm Ms. Donovan.”

“Ms. Donovan, I am Stefan Vasile.” He extended a hand towards me. I instinctually wrapped mine even tighter against around my injured stomach. “I understand you were quite close to my nephew, Christopher.”

“Christopher? I donʼt know anyone named Christopher.”

“I am so sorry. I am forgetful.” He recovered from the awkwardness of the unreturned handshake by stuffing his hands into the pockets of his suit. “When the boys ran away they assumed new names. I believe you knew him as Alex.”

“I knew Alex.” My voice held steady, my breath even.

“Perhaps you can help me. I am looking for his brother. The two ran away after their parents died in a house fire, and weʼve been desperately looking for them ever since. And now, with little Christopher gone...” He trailed off, looking forlornly where the funeral service had been conducted. Most people had left, only a few stragglers lagged behind. “It would mean so much to the family if I could bring his brother home. Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”

I met the dark brown eyes of the man who was not Alexʼs uncle and repaid Liam for saving my life. “He was always talking about how much he loved living in a warmer climate. If I was you, I would look south.”

“South? Are you sure?”

“He tried to talk Alex into moving to Florida on more than one occasion.”

“Thatʼs...interesting. Thank you, my dear. You have been most helpful.”

“I hope you find him,” I lied.

“Donʼt worry. I know we will.”

Before he made it to the line of dark cars parked in the drive he whipped out a cell phone, talking rapidly in another language. I couldnʼt tear my eyes away from him. It wasnʼt until he got into his car and drove away that the tension began to seep out of me.