On the Fringe (8 page)

Addie stood up and walked to the window, peering out into the dark. Her back was to me, but I could tell she was crying.
Dang.

“I’m sorry, Addie.” I rushed over and put my arm around her. “I’m sorry. It’s just…hard trying to make sense of what happened. I’m obviously not doing a very good job.”

She turned to me. Her always-brilliant eyes looked dull and heavy
.
I am so sorry
, I thought weakly, my eyes drooping like hers. She made an effort, finding a smile inside her, trying to pretend she was okay. Grabbing my hand, she led me outside to the front porch. We sat down on an old, paint-peeled bench and huddled together under a blanket, silently listening to the frogs and crickets. She rested her head on my shoulder, her long, chamomile-infused hair draping across my arm.

“I just want to stop missing him,” she whispered, her voice cracked and broken up. “It hurts so much to think about him, that it’s easier to block him out entirely. It isn’t so bad that way.”

I didn’t know what to say.

She continued, her voice getting weaker as she whispered, “But then I feel so sad, like I’m losing him. It’s like no matter what I do, I’m stuck somewhere in between.”

Somewhere in between.

When Daniel died, I thought he went off to some vast, happy place beyond the clouds—but maybe he didn’t. Maybe I had it all wrong. After my drowning incident, I didn’t know what to think anymore. If he wasn’t
there
and he wasn’t
here
, then
where
was he? Maybe he was just standing in an open door with a view in both directions.

As I stared out into the darkness, my mind explored the possibilities, eventually sending me off into a world of semi-dreams. I almost fell asleep with Addie resting on my shoulder, when a slight movement down by the dock caught my attention. At first, I thought it was just the fog, which had started its nightly drift inward—but after looking more carefully, I realized whatever it was seemed to move
through
the fog, not with it.

I tensed, my nerves reminding me of the unwanted aberration in my kitchen. I had no interest in meeting it (or anything like it) again. I moved Addie off my shoulder, trying not to wake her, but her eyes still shot open.

“Oh…” she gasped, disoriented. “Wha–? Did I fall asleep?”

“Let’s go inside, okay?” I suggested, looking behind my back.
Please don’t let it be something horrible,
I repeated again and again in my head. As we walked back inside the house I expected some black, vaporous shape to attack us at any moment. My heartbeat continued to escalate, making it nearly impossible to remain calm.

“Addie, you go to bed and I’ll lock up,” I said, trying to be brave.

In a zombie-like trance, Addie made her way down the hallway. I turned off the lights and locked the front door, pausing at the window, wondering what was out there. Finally turning to go to bed, I froze, convinced something outside had moved beneath the hazy moonlight, something that looked like a person. I placed my hands on the chilly windowpane and peered at the dock, trying to focus on the movement…

I gasped.

Across the street, at the base of the hill, was a figure encircled by the fog, standing beneath a tree. I leaned closer for a better look, but my breath fogged up my glasses and the window, and I had to pull back to wait for the little cloud in front of me to fade away. When I looked a few seconds later, a section of the fog had thinned out long enough to reveal a face—a seemingly familiar one.

I pulled open the creaking front door and slipped outside into the fog that floated here and there in varying thicknesses, creeping through the air like it was alive. A pounding exhilaration shot through me as I sneaked forward, looking and listening, wondering how or when I’d lost my mind.

Crazy. You are crazy,
I kept telling myself.

Not crazy? How about stupid? Definitely stupid.

Even then, I had the strange desire for a giant butterfly net to catch whatever was out there, as if
it
could be captured so easily.

My heart pounded in my ears as I hesitated, wondering which way to go. I felt completely vulnerable, like a classic horror movie victim trying to decide whether or not to go back inside. It was way too dark for me to be creeping around, especially only a few weeks after practically dying out there, but I had to find out if the face belonged to who I thought it did…just in case.

Trying not to trip again, I slowly walked toward him. The closer I got, the more nervous I felt, and the air around me seemed to grow heavier upon each step.

Twenty yards, then fifteen… About ten more, then six…three…

Two feet away I stopped, repeatedly blinking. I considered pinching myself like they do in cartoons, because right there in front of me, beneath the tallest eucalyptus tree in the neighborhood, stood someone who appeared to be Daniel. It
looked
just like him…but was it
really
him, or was I just
really
delusional?

When we made eye contact, the expression on his face changed from passive interest to complete surprise. I took a step closer, and he jerked upright and froze, as if questioning whether he should stay or go.

“Daniel?” I whispered, but my voice caught, coming out all hoarse and scratchy. I tried again, but only managed, “Da–.”

He seemed nervous, and pushed his hands into his pockets as he watched me. His chocolate hair fell in layers around his face, resting over his left eye, looking the same as the day he died, his skin still olive-tan like Addie’s. His shoulders broad and arms long, his eyes, lips, chin, neck and everything all still just right. He wore a black, short-sleeve t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of black Vans.

I fought the urge to scream out loud or throw my arms around him. Instead, I just stood there, paralyzed with uncertainty. Do I touch him, or talk to him, or
what?
Daniel didn’t move either. It seemed like he had merged with the tree trunk, and all I could do was watch him, despite my mind telling me this was impossible.

The next thing I knew, he was smiling at me, his dimples as charming as when he was alive. I took a quick breath and smiled, my heart burning as I stepped closer. He took a step, too, until we were only inches apart. But when I reached for him, my hands passed through his torso, like he was a part of the fog. I couldn’t feel anything when he reached for me, either—not even the slightest indication that his hand was resting directly in the middle of my head.

I looked up again into his familiar, brown eyes—eyes that used to make my heart skip a beat, that
still
did. They drew me into him, causing my heart to leap, twisting and soaring like a kite fighting the wind. That was the moment I was
positive
I loved him. That I always had, and always would.

“Daniel,” I said, this time like it was the only word I knew.

His lips moved in response, but I couldn’t hear anything.

“What?” I asked, wondering why it seemed like a mute button had been pressed. I shook my head to let him know, and his smile withered as the light in his eyes disappeared. A kind of sadness seemed to fall over him. He dropped his head and looked the other way…away from me.

“What, Daniel?” I repeated, stepping closer. But he stepped back from me, shaking his head in defeat as the tree trunk swallowed him up. “I don’t understand,” I pleaded, moving toward him. I wasn’t going to let him leave. Not yet. “Please…” my voice quivered as I reached for him.

Daniel turned away from me and walked through the tree. I chased after him, but there was nothing to catch. He had disappeared. Still, I peeked around the tree and looked all around, hoping to find him, hoping he was not really gone.

He was.

I rested my hands and forehead against the tree trunk and fought the tears, overwhelmed with euphoria and confusion. My breathing slowed, the rhythm loud and deep as I inhaled in… exhaled out…in…out… But I seemed incapable of moving.

It wasn’t until I heard the sound of Dad’s car coming down the street that I pushed myself away from the eucalyptus tree, and reluctantly dragged myself home.

Daniel

I had no idea she could see me until she walked over and looked
at
me instead of through me. All reality was shot to pieces then, and I insanely forgot something greater than a few feet separated us. Something like death.

But that changed the instant I spoke and realized she couldn’t hear me.

What was I thinking?

Talk about rejection. Not only was it frustrating, but it also looked like I’d made her cry.
Way to go.
It was one thing to play hard to get with a random girl at school. It was totally different now that the girl was Claire.

I felt awful.

Right then I vowed never to let her see me again. I would keep my distance, only getting close to her when she was distracted, or if she needed saving again.

But as it turned out, things didn’t really work the way I’d planned.

Claire

After seeing Daniel in the fog that night, the grief I had absorbed since his death started oozing out like a radiation leak. I felt myself unraveling. The only logical explanation was that I was losing my mind.

But I knew I wasn’t

There was no question I saw Daniel that night beneath the tree, but
why
? Why had he come back? Why, of all the whys had he looked at me like a war had been lost, before disappearing?

The only certainty was when I looked into his familiar eyes, my whole world changed. Again. The strange feelings, the grief, the confusion all merged together into one sense, fueling a determination to somehow see him again. I started wondering if Daniel was somewhere out in the dark
every
night, watching me.

As soon as the sun would disappear, I’d postpone sleep night after night, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Meaningless distractions such as homework or television completely failed as my thoughts got tangled up in plans to lure him back to me. There had to be a reason he returned more than once. But no matter how many nights I sat out on the front porch or wandered alone down by the lake, he didn’t come back. After countless days of hoping and waiting, I finally admitted to myself that it was time to give up. The sane part of me concluded that it was a lost cause.

But I was about to learn that forgetting Daniel was not meant to be.

Two weeks after seeing him under the tree, I went on a date with a guy from school, named Drew. The idea was to get my mind off of Daniel, which was surprising, considering I had lived as such a recluse for so long.

Drew’s idea of flirting was sneaking up behind me as I walked across the school parking lot to find Addie for a ride home. I jumped, and he laughed while running his fingers through his curly blond hair. Then he asked me out, and I surprised myself by saying yes.

When he picked me up on Friday at seven o’clock, he seemed much more nervous than I was. He was good-looking (in a tan and beefy sort-of way), friendly and popular, I still didn’t “like” him enough to be nervous.

After saying our goodbyes to my overly excited mother, Drew drove us to a seafood restaurant out on an old wooden pier by the bay. As we devoured a basket of fish and chips, the sun settled down behind us into a salmon-colored horizon over the water. When we finished, he drove us up a winding road into the hills for a ride on a little black steam train beneath the stars. The scent of redwood fused with woody eucalyptus created a calming, almost medicinal fragrance. I inhaled the aromatic breeze and fought off the chilly air as we huddled together in an open box on the train chugging along through a moonlit forest tour.

Just as we rounded a corner, the steam engine whistled. I looked out to my right as the sparkling bay and distant lights flooded into view. At that dramatic moment I felt Drew shift and subtly put his arm around me. Although I liked the warmth he radiated into my freezing body, I was not exactly sure about this move so soon. But, I’d always shied away from awkward confrontation, and even though I didn’t lean into him, I didn’t move away, either.

When the train came to a stop, I hopped out, perhaps a little too quickly, and waited for Drew as he exited along with everyone else. But instead of heading back to the car, he wanted to take a walk up a small, grassy hill. I was starting to think the date would never end, and made sure to keep my hands busy the whole time by wrapping them around myself as we walked side by side.

I could hear music before we reached the top of the hill, and admittedly was curious. I looked over at Drew, but he just shrugged innocently. As we crested the hill to find a kaleidoscope of spinning lights, I gasped. An old-style carousel, housing a dozen brightly painted horses, spun around and around. The entire platform lit up beneath thousands of miniature lights. I turned to a smiling Drew, who was proudly waiting for my reaction, like he had dreamt up the entire place, himself.

Okay, not a bad touch
. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to at least hold his hand.

Together we walked inside the blue and white painted archway onto the platform, and checked out the vending machines stocked with postcards, toys, giant lollipops and mounds of cotton candy. The whole place smelled like buttery popcorn, sweets and peanuts, as if we’d stepped back in time and were visiting some traveling carnival. Everything looked and smelled somewhat familiar—and then I vaguely remembered having come here once when I was little.

After paying the cashier, Drew immediately attacked a mass of neon blue cotton candy, while I fumbled to unwrap a rainbow-spiraled lollipop the size of my hand. He seemed oblivious to me, his face still buried in the fluff. As I tried to find some acceptable way of licking my giant-sized sucker without getting sticky all over my cheeks, my heart sped up for no reason.

Sugar rush?

The air felt heavy, pressing me into the ground, reminding me of the night I saw Daniel under the tree. I was pretty sure my sucker had nothing to do with it.