Chapter Twenty-Five
The dark mahogany wood is soft and smooth, polished by countless hands gripping the pew in search of comfort and guidance. My grandpa wanted to leave after talking to the Father, and even Tanner looked longingly toward the door, but I need the peace the chapel offers. Pacing in the foyer, my grandpa is wrestling with his own ideas and dilemmas. Tanner, I encouraged to take a few minutes to speak with his priest.
I’m not Catholic and have no thoughts of becoming one right now, but I don’t want to be the reason Tanner turns away from his faith just because Father Margulies couldn’t come up with the answer my family has spent centuries searching for. Hoping he will be able to reconcile his feelings, I let my head fall down to the pew in front of me. I don’t pray. I really don’t even know how to pray even if I wanted to. Sitting with my head against the cool wood, I close my eyes and try to picture Katie.
My dad said that I would have liked her. I wonder what she was thinking about when she woke up that day. She didn’t know everything I know, but the dreams alone would have been enough to convince her of what lay ahead. Did she wake up hoping it was all a big joke, or did she open her eyes knowing it would be the last time she did? Did she think about her family and the things she would miss?
Picking my backpack up off the floor, I settle it in my lap. I brought it knowing deep down that I would need it. I packed the bag yesterday, before even considering telling Tanner anything about this. I thought I would wake up alone and slip out of the house to the meadow where I met Tanner. I know so few places in this town. In thinking of where to spend the last few hours of my life, I had quickly decided on the meadow. Amid terrifying dreams and legends it is the one place I have been happy.
Wishing I could be there now, I unzip my backpack. The stationary my mother uses is formal and elegant. Pulling a thick sheet of paper out, I set it to the side. The pen is somewhere in the bottom of the bag, but my fingers find it with a quick sweep and pull it out along with an old school binder.
The crisp stationary makes a soft whisk as I settle it in place. Shaking too much to write, I tap my foot as I try to draw the air into my lungs deeply enough to settle my tremors. I need to do this. I can’t leave my dad behind thinking he might have been responsible for yet another death. Slowly, feeling returns to my fingertips and the words began to flow.
“Dear Mom and Dad,
“I don’t know when you will find this letter, but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do it in person.
“Mom, you may not understand any of this, but I know you will, Dad.
“Mom, I love you so much. I love how you tried so hard to protect me from the world. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve tried your patience. Your gentle heart made you a pushover, but I never doubted for a second that you have more strength than anyone else I know. You were always such an example of strength to me.
“Dad, you know I love you. I have always been your little girl, and I always will be. I want you to know that there was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. There was nothing you could have done for Katie, either. I understand what she went through so much better now. I know that she doesn’t blame you and that she would want you to forgive yourself.
“When you are ready, go to Grandpa. He can explain what happened. It won’t make it any less painful, but it may be better than spending the rest of your life wondering if you could have saved me.
“Please tell David that I love him, too. I will miss his constant teasing and his boundless energy. Tell him that I will miss his smile and big brother hugs more than he can ever know.
“I can’t tell you not to cry or feel bad, because I know I wouldn’t be able to do that either. All that I do ask is that you don’t forget me.
“I love you both so much.
“I’m sorry.
“Arra.”
The page is splattered with drops of moisture, smearing the ink in more than one place, but I can’t bear to recopy the words. Folding the sheet in thirds, I seal it in one of my mom’s envelopes and address it simply, “Mom and Dad”.
Tucking the letter into my backpack, I know my mom will find it eventually. It might take a while for her to pack up my things, but she will when the pain eases up enough to let her say goodbye. I just hope it won’t take too long. I consider telling my grandpa about the letter so my parents will find it as soon as possible, but the sound of approaching steps reach my ears before I make my decision.
Tanner slides in beside me and takes my hands in his. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess.”
It’s true, surprisingly enough. I questioned if knowing would be any help at one point. I know now that it does. For me, at least, it has. I still regret that I will not see David graduate from college, or get to attend myself. I wish I could have gone to the bonfire with Tanner tomorrow night. But in the end, knowing has helped me to feel at least a little prepared. I know what is coming and I will face it no matter what the outcome turns out to be.
“I’m sorry about dragging you into this, Tanner.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you told me. I’m glad we got this time together. I’ll never forget it,” he says. My heart breaks a little to hear him say that. It sounds like he has accepted the inevitable, too.
There are so many things I want to say to him, but I just lean against his shoulder and let him hold me until everything melts away.
“Arra. Arra, wake up.”
I hear the words, but it is the soft touch of Tanner’s lips against my ear as he whispers that wakes me. Opening my eyes, I see nothing but mahogany. I don’t know how I even managed to fall asleep, but at least it was a dreamless sleep. Somehow I ended up with my head on Tanner’s lap and my feet up on the bench. Probably not the most reverent way to sit in a pew. Or the most comfortable. Pushing myself up, pain flares in my neck and shoulder.
Why did Tanner wake me up? Is it time already? I bolt upright. “Tanner? What’s happening?” I ask.
“It’s okay, Arra. Sorry to wake you, but your grandpa wanted you to meet him in the garden,” Tanner whispers.
“The garden?” My mind is still a little groggy. What garden is he talking about?
“Behind the church. Father Margulies suggested it,” Tanner explains.
A garden behind a Catholic church. That is where I will die. Is that fitting, or ironic? I’m not really sure. It seems like it will only bring up more questions, like how had I managed to die just sitting in a garden behind a church? Katie and Maera were both doing something that at least might have accounted for their deaths. What could any coroner say about me? My heart will just stop while I am taking in the scents of the summer blooms.
That will kill my dad. He will want an explanation, especially after Katie. But maybe this is better. It will just be a freak occurrence. I am healthy, current on all my vaccinations and physical exams. There is nothing my dad can blame himself for. It will break his heart, but maybe not his mind as well.
“Are you ready to go?” Tanner asks. He cringes, hearing the double meaning in his words. I nod, to both questions, and he takes my hand.
Stepping aside, he waits for me to grab my backpack and make my way to the aisle. The walk through the church is quiet and still. There are no other patrons. The emptiness is softened by the light filtering in through the high stained glass windows. The hallway we walk down looks as if it is paved in precious gems. For a moment, I felt like Alice, or Dorothy, or a dozen other fairytale girls, except that I am not on my way to find a prince or live happily ever after.
Even still, I am sad when Tanner pulls me from the dazzling hall toward a door nestled at the back of the church. It is square, made of plain looking wood, sturdy, but old. Nothing special. Nothing special to anyone else maybe, but Tanner and I slow to a stop right in front of it. Neither of us wants to open it.
Tanner’s hand comes up to my chin and tilts my head to look up at him. His eyes tear
at my heart. Every emotion running amok in my own heart is staring back at me through his eyes. All except the panic. I put my panic aside with the hope that this will all end with me. Tanner has either not been so lucky, or he doesn’t care about when it might end, only that it hasn’t ended already.
He is piercing me with his eyes, and then he is suddenly pressing his lips against mine. It is nothing like his earlier kisses, light and playful. His fingers tangle themselves in my hair and pulled me against him. I find that mine are doing the same. His hair is coarse from the sun, but his lips are silk against mine. Passion and desperation wrapped themselves around us, mixing with the tears falling from both of our eyes.
Slowly, the moment ebbs away and we are left crying with each other in front of the old wooden door that stands waiting to be opened. Loosening my grip on Tanner isn’t easy, but somehow I find the strength to let go and reach for the brass doorknob. I turn it and the light of full dawn sweeps into the hall.