Read Thirteen Days to Midnight Page 20


  I touched Oh’s brow, kissed her on the lips, and felt a bloom of breath on my cheek.

  Her eyes came open, slowly at first and then all at once. She yawned loudly and I heard Milo coming slowly up the stairs.

  “Did you take advantage of me in my sleep?”

  She pulled me into a bleary-eyed hug. I’m sure she would have said something else if Milo hadn’t been dancing and howling in the middle of the room. When I finally got him calmed down, I reached out for the pink cast and he gave it back. I read the words but didn’t say them out loud. Oh was never going to get the power from me again.

  “We’ve got a few things to talk about,” I said.

  Oh closed her eyes, half asleep, drifting off.

  “I’m so tired. Why does it smell like burnt rubber in here? Can we go to the beach tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We can go to the beach. Not tomorrow, but soon.”

  And then she smiled faintly and fell asleep in my arms.

  a cognizant original v5 release october 09 2010

  ONE WEEK LATER

  We did go back to the beach, and I got to do all the things I’d planned to do with Oh. We ate saltwater taffy, took turns on her longboard on the boardwalk, ate chowder, and walked along the beach. When night was about to fall, we made a fire and stared out at the ocean.

  “What are you not telling me, Jacob Fielding?” she asked me. It had become a familiar question.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’ve told you everything.”

  It’s no good starting a relationship with a lie, but her memory had turned faulty and I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. She remembered things—the fire, getting the tattoo, a lot of what we’d been through—but she had no memory of killing herself over and over again. No memory of having started the fire or almost killing Ethan. It was as if the most troubling events were covered in black tar and couldn’t be seen. I worried it wouldn’t always be like that. Someday, after the shock had worn off, she might remember some of what she’d done, and then she’d know I had lied to her.

  But I was experienced at holding on to secrets, and Milo had promised me he wouldn’t tell Oh anything she couldn’t remember on her own. It was a risk we were willing to take.

  “He’s crazy to let you take his car this far away,” she said, smiling into a soft wind that curled her hair back.

  “I agree.”

  I’d told her about the money and the truth about the accident with Mr. Fielding. She hadn’t hated me like I thought she might for driving Mr. Fielding into a tree. My best friend and the girl I loved didn’t loathe me for my mistake, but I couldn’t help hating myself. I hoped it would go away in time, but I had my doubts.

  “So you’re sure about this?” she asked me, poking a stick in the fire, moving hot coals against the sand.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Not even once in a while?”

  “Never again, and that’s my final answer.”

  I had told her my days of slipping people the diamond were over. If we were going to do any good in the future, it would have to come from me keeping the power to myself. She had no way of knowing why, and I had a feeling it would be a wedge between us. Only Milo and I knew the truth, and that’s the way I planned to keep it.

  I sat there thinking about Father Tim and Mr. Coffin. I think they were near enough to Mr. Fielding before and to me now to feel the power of a hidden thing. I think they have this feeling still, a sense that just around the corner of what they can see there lies a dark secret. I don’t plan to tell either one of them, ever, but I have a feeling they will hover around me, searching for clues, untill they grow old and weary with age.

  I put my arm around Oh and pulled her close. She cared more about the world than I did, and I wished Mr. Fielding had given the power to her instead of me. She would have done a lot of good with it. She and the black lion would have gotten along swimmingly, but me? I just wished it would go away. I wished it would die and never come back.

  My phone buzzed in the pocket of my hoodie and Oh fished it out, holding the screen where we could both see it.

  Taking a few swings at the batting cages. set to slow pitch. i’m killing it!

  “He’s so lying,” Oh joked. “Milo couldn’t hit a baseball off a tee.”

  I stared off into the sunset and leaned my head against Oh’s, running my fingers along the edge of the pink diamond on her arm.

  “I sort of feel like hitting a baseball,” said Oh, staring up into my eyes. “You?”

  “They close at nine,” I said, glancing at my watch. “If we hurry we can make it.”

  A hundred years from now I’m sure I’ll feel differently, when Oh and Milo are gone and I’m left to march into Mr. Fielding’s arms alone. I can already see myself in the distant future, standing behind the counter at Sir Walter Raleigh’s, sending smoke signals out into the world in search of a conversation.

  “Great to be alive, isn’t it?” asked Oh, wrapping her arms around my neck. She looked amazing.

  “Yeah, it is great,” I agreed.

  My long journey hadn’t turned lonely yet, but I had the feeling, there on the beach, that the best time would fly by almost unnoticed. Like the one or five or ten minutes parked on the side of the road on the way to the Enchanted Forest, all good time would pass me by.

  “Race you to the clunker,” said Oh.

  And then she was running, kicking up sand and calling for me to follow.

  I felt the distance between her and my long walk alone grow a little shorter.

  If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

  I still ask people that question all the time, and I get the same kind of answers I’ve always gotten. Flying. Reading minds. Walking through walls.

  I’ve finally settled on the one I want, and it sure isn’t the one I got. It’s simple, really, something everyone else has that I don’t. I can walk into a burning building, dive off a bridge, get hit by a bus, or drive a car into a tree doing ninety. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for the one thing I can’t have.

  All I really want is to stay with my friends all the way to the end.

  The power to never be alone is the only answer there is for a guy like me.

 


 

  Patrick Carman, Thirteen Days to Midnight

 


 

 
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