Lucid (27 page)

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered, trying for a normal response. This was the hardest thing about my gift. Having to experience things that upset me, twice. I could’ve just gone straight to the library and avoided the conversation, but in my dream I had gone to the memorial that evening, slipping into the back of the funeral home to keep a low profile. Then, when I went to pay my respects at Freddie’s closed casket, all I could think about was
why
it was closed. I broke out in loud, sobbing tears, embarrassing myself. I’d hoped that hearing Lainey ask me about going to the funeral twice would be the reminder I needed to stay away. I was just too emotional about his death.

Lainey caught my hand and squeezed. “The only reason I saw the article was because it’d made the front page news. The paper said since Mr. Holtzman didn’t have any living family, his colleagues at the University have taken responsibility for his funeral. It’s at Bradford’s Funeral Home from four thirty to six thirty. I’ll go with you if you want me to.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came. Finally, I croaked, “I’m good. You don’t need to go.”

Before Harper or Lainey could say another word, I bolted from study hall. Throwing myself into research would keep me from thinking about Freddie’s funeral or my own guilt.

I typed in several search terms like “unexplainable disasters,” “mysterious disasters,” and “weird events in history” on the library computer until I found what seemed like four interesting subjects that spanned the globe as well as time. I wanted to go back as far as possible, but also pick subjects that had pictures, or even better, videos taken by observers who happened to witness the strange event taking place.

After a half hour of searching, I’d found four interesting subjects from all over the world and that dated from 1908 to 1945: The Great Molasses Disaster in Boston, Massachusetts: the elephant stampede in Chandaka Forest, India: the high-powered explosion near Tunguska River in Russia: and the B-52 bomber that crashed into the Empire State Building in New York.

Even though I’d met my quota of events, it bothered me that none of my events had any video footage. I’d only been able to find still photos. In my dream, I’d closed the computer and moved on, but with the guilt about Freddie’s impending funeral weighing heavy on my mind, I needed something positive to help offset all the sad thoughts.

I decided to research the airplane crash my grandmother described in her journal. It met my “unusual” criteria, plus it was a fairly recent disaster that might actually have live footage. That way if I could find live video, I could end my oral presentation on a positive note by showing the class the impactful video of the crash, and then amaze them with the fact that everyone survived.

I found several online videos posted of the Washington airplane crash. It was kind of surreal watching live videos of the event my grandmother described, but I clicked through them all anyway, so I could see it all again with her notes about the event fresh in my mind. Finally, I clicked on the last one that happened to show the full event.

A mother had taken video of her kid flying his kite. He was making the kite do fancy dips and spins while she commented. When the airplane showed up in the background, my finger froze over the mouse button and I felt the blood drain from my face. The plane wasn’t the only thing I saw; a huge bubble rippled across the bright blue sky like a building ocean wave.

“No way,” I whispered as I watched the steadily increasing curve of the bubble move along the nose of the airplane. At first, it just slowly tilted the plane, then the curve vaulted in height, the spike slicing across the wing, shearing it off like a knife stripping a thorn from a rose stem.

Something had started to burst through the warped sky, a vein of bright light splintering along the blue, but the woman screamed, “Oh my God,” then pulled the video camera’s view away to follow the plane falling toward the river.

The bubble in the sky was exactly like what I’d seen that day I witnessed the car accident between the red and silver car on Highway 29. My hand shook as I saved the video clip to my flash drive, then emailed it to myself.
Proof!
I now had proof that I wasn’t losing my mind.

* * *

“Lainey, check this out!” I rushed up to Lainey, who was standing close to Matt as they leaned against his Jeep. His arm was slung over her shoulder, and he rubbed his hand up and down her arm to keep her warm.

“What are you so excited about?” she asked with a laugh as I pulled my phone out of my backpack and opened my email.

“Wait, let me get it queued up.”

Lainey leaned over my left shoulder and Matt leaned around my right one as I played the video clip for them.

When it was over, Lainey cast a glance Matt’s way, then spoke cautiously. “Um, is that for your history project? You seem a little too excited about a plane crash that probably killed everyone the moment they hit the water.”

I shook my head. “No, everyone survived that awful plane crash, but that wasn’t why I showed you the video, Lainey. I was showing you what
caused
the crash. I can’t believe no one reported it.” Pointing to my phone’s screen, I continued, “This is exactly what happened the other day on Twenty-Nine. It’s
what
caused that car accident we saw.”

A crowd of cheerleaders and football players streamed past, including Jared and Tarra. Matt didn’t even glance their way as he pulled Lainey in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Reported what, Nara? I just saw the plane dip, then lose one of its wings before falling out of the sky.” He glanced down at Lainey looking up at him. “Is that what you saw?”

She nodded. “Me too. What are you seeing on that video, Nara?”

“Ugh!” I played it again for them, this time pointing to the sky in front of the plane. “Don’t you see it…the sky warping, bubbling up? Then…here…the bubble spikes and tears off the wing.”

Lainey and Matt exchanged a look. “Ummm, no, we don’t see—” Lainey began when I glanced up and spotted Drystan walking with a blonde girl on one side and a brunette on his other. It was like his new black eye was an eye-patch, drawing girls like barmaids desperate for the dangerous pirate’s attention. “Drystan!” I called, waving him over.

“That’s my ride. Got to go, ladies.”

As he veered in our direction, they said in dreamy voices, giving him little waves. “Bye, Drystan!”

Between that and passing him in the hall earlier while Sophia and Miranda hung on his every word today, I felt nauseous. Go figure the one time I spotted him at school, he’d be chatting it up with the only two girls from my soccer team I couldn’t stand.

Drystan stopped beside me and said to Matt, “I’m working the crowd for you, Matt. You’re closing in on Jared in votes. You’ll have that crown this Saturday.”

Matt laughed. “Thanks for the pimpage, Drystan.”

“It’s amazing how your ‘Matt campaigning’ gives you the perfect excuse to flirt with an entire group of girls at the same time,” Lainey teased.

“Byyyyye Drystan,” I mimicked the girls’ voices with an eye roll.

Drystan smirked and tapped the tip of my nose. “You sound jealous.”

“Jealous?” I snorted. “Seeing them act like that makes me think…‘have more pride than that girls, puh-leeze!’”

Drystan laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “If I ever want the blunt truth, I’m glad you’ll always be there for me, Nara. What’s up?”

I started to tell him when Lainey snickered and talked over me. “Nara’s seeing things.”

I glared at her. “Quit trying to influence him before he has a chance to see for himself.”

Drystan’s eyebrows shot up. “See what?”

“Watch this.” I turned my back to him and quickly said to Lainey and Matt, “Don’t say a word,” before I held up my phone.

Drystan set his chin on my shoulder and watched the video clip. When it was over, he glanced at me. “It’s a video of a plane crash.”

I spun my hand in a circle. “Annnnnd?”

“And?” Confusion flitted over his features. He glanced at Lainey and Matt for help.

They both shook their heads. “Not getting any hints from me, man,” Matt said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“And…tell them what caused the crash,” I said, fully expecting him to back me up.

Drystan lifted his shoulders. “I can’t tell from that video. The plane suddenly veered, tilted over, then lost its wing, which is what caused it to crash.”

I pressed my lips together. “What caused it to tilt over?”

“When was this video taken?” Drystan asked, holding my gaze.

I could tell he was trying to figure out if this involved my ability. I sighed and closed the video. “It was taken over fifteen years ago.”

“So, are you guys going to the park today?” Lainey cut in, her gaze darting between Drystan and me.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Yes,” Drystan said.

I frowned at him. “I’m sore.”
And upset you couldn’t back me up. Maybe I am losing my mind
.

He gave me a hard look. “You’ll work your way through the soreness.”

“I’ll go with you, dude,” Matt said, while rubbing his hands together. “I can’t believe you held out on me. I’m totally ready to try some of that stuff.”

“Drystan would love to teach you—”

“Not today.” Drystan interrupted me, his determined gaze never leaving mine. “Nara should continue training.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll meet you there at four.”

* * *

One nice thing about meeting at the park in December is that the only people we’d run across were joggers. We pretty much had the run of the place, which was great when it came to Drystan showing me some more of his parkour moves on the various stairs, cement handrails, brick walls and buildings throughout the park. He even encouraged me to try a couple of them, which resulted in laughable moments and bruises for my efforts.

After running for three miles throughout the paths in the woods, Drystan and I ended up in the clearing, where he sent me back up on the slackline.

As soon as I got my balance in the center of the line, he commanded, “Now jump off.”

“Are you nuts?” I stared down at him from my precarious position. “I’ll break something.”

Drystan waved his hands toward his chest. “Come on. We’ve practiced on ground level plenty of times. You have the roll down now. You’re never going to learn to land properly if you don’t practice from some places of height.”

“How about I jump from two rungs up on the ladder?”

“You’re not that high up, Nara.”

“Feels like it to me.” When I shook my head, he ran up the ladder, then started to step on the line. “Wait!” I held one hand up and my feet jiggled. I adopted the posture to rebalance myself. “Get back down there.”

He flashed a brief smile. “I will if you promise to try.”

I flicked my wrist and gritted out, “Fine, but you need to get down there and make sure I don’t crack my spine.”

“Great!” He jumped off the top of the ladder, then landed into a tucked roll. Standing, he waved me on. “Remember to tuck your knees when you jump, then point your toes as you move toward the ground.”

As I took a deep breath, he continued, “And don’t forget to land on the balls of your feet, then use your bent knees to help you roll forward at a diagonal and back onto your feet.”

“Easy for you to say, Rubber Man.”

He laughed. “Jump or I’m coming back up there.”

After I’d jumped from the slackline into a tucked roll ten times, my shoulders, spine, and hips were beat. On my eleventh jump, Drystan seemed satisfied that I’d finally gotten the concept of the correct roll technique. “One day you’ll be able to do that on concrete.”

I grimaced. “I seriously doubt I’ll ever willingly jump from a seven-foot height onto concrete.”

“That jump I made from that gym’s rooftop to the other building’s roof was higher, Nara.”

Ugh, I’d forgotten about that. Guess we were moving to harder surfaces. I glanced at the leafy ground I’d been landing on. Right now my brain couldn’t process the idea of jumping toward an unyielding surface like a rooftop or pavement on purpose. “Can we at least work our way up to concrete? Maybe move to the hard, clay-like ground near the playground equipment first?”

“Of course. That was the plan.” He paused and glanced at the darkening sky. “It’s probably time to call it a day.”

“Let’s spar for a few minutes.” I winced as I stood, but set my feet on the ground in a ready stance.

“We’ve been at this for a couple of hours,” Drystan began, then adopted the same position when I raised my hands in defensive mode.

We circled each other for a few seconds. “Aren’t you exhausted?” he asked, right before he lunged and struck out, aiming for my shoulder.

I deflected his punch, knocking his hand to the side. I ached everywhere. My bruises had bruises, but I wasn’t stopping. I struck back with a fast punch, which he deftly defended. While he was distracted, I slammed my foot into his thigh.

“Nice one,” he gritted, hopping from foot to foot like a boxer shaking off pain. “What are you trying to avoid at home?” As soon as he spoke, he swept his leg out.

I hopped back just in time to avoid being knocked off my feet. “Not avoiding anything.” I shifted my stalking stance and pivoted in the opposite direction to throw him off balance. “You insisted on training, so I’m training.”

Drystan narrowed his gaze, then lunged for me with a ferocity I wasn’t expecting. We landed on the bed of leaves and air whooshed out of my lungs. Before I could recover, he grabbed my wrists, holding me down.

“Truth, Nara, or I’ll think you’re sticking around longer than usual because you
want
to spend more time with me.”

I struggled and my chest heaved, but he wasn’t moving. “Stop being such an ass and let me up.”

He shook his head and sat down on my hips, his fingers tightening around my wrists. “Not until you tell me. Does it have something to do with that video? I could tell you were hoping I’d see something. As much as I wish I could’ve, I didn’t see anything.”

I couldn’t tell Drystan how I felt like crap for intentionally working out until it would be too late for me to go to Freddie’s memorial, but my guilt over Freddie’s death and now my avoidance of his memorial had built to a near paralyzing ache in my stomach. Working out with Drystan helped me temporarily forget.