He said he loved me. That he knew I would never leave him.
“Tell me,” I say, and my voice is rising, the beeping around me rising too, growing shriller, sharper.
“There was a—when you fell, Morgan was standing right where you landed. You—you broke your legs and an arm and a few bones in your back, and there’s internal bleeding, but you’ll be all right, you’re here, and I swear I won’t ever—”
I grab her arm, squeeze. “What happened to Morgan?”
She closes her eyes.
“He died,” she says, her voice quiet. “When you fell, he was somehow—he was exactly where you landed. He—you would have died if he wasn’t there. He broke your fall, but there was . . . there was a rock and they say his head hit it and—”
She is still talking but I can’t hear her. I can’t hear her because I see the light in his eyes again, I see it dimming again and he didn’t leave when I told him to.
Morgan stayed, he stayed for me.
He died for me, he said I would never leave him, that he knew me, and he came to get me and stayed and I am alive, I am breathing because of him.
I want to scream but I can’t because I’m hurting. All of me, body and soul, is hurting.
I can’t scream because my pain is too big to be let out.
If I scream it would travel through this room, this place, through everything. It would travel through the universe itself, through every me in every place and I was so sure I understood things, I was so sure Morgan was safe, that I was safe, but I was wrong.
I was wrong then, I am wrong now.
I hear the beeping noise again, and turn my head slowly, painfully, see it is all the equipment around me talking slowly, steadily. One, two, three, beep.
Like a heart, and I wish mine wasn’t beating. I told Morgan to go but he didn’t, he stayed, and now—
No. I don’t want to think that his eyes are closed forever everywhere.
I have survived the crèche, the SAT, Clementine, all of it, and for . . .
For Morgan to die.
Morgan.
My eyes burn. My body screams.
“Don’t close your eyes,” my mother whispers and it is my mother, Jane is my mother, here and there and in my heart forever and everywhere I can ever be. “I know you’re in pain, but the doctors are coming. They said you might not wake up but I knew you would, Ava. I knew you’d come back to me. I swore to Clementine that if you did I would never ever let you go.”
“You have to,” I say, and grab her hand, hard. “You have to let me—I want to go.”
I do. I don’t want—I just want to go. I don’t want to be—
Morgan.
“We’ll go home soon,” she says, blinking hard, her eyes not meeting mine. “I swear you’ll be okay, you’re going to make it,” and the beeping grows louder, faster, and I squeeze tighter, harder, pleading without words.
Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head.
“Ava,” she says. “You’re here, you’re still here, I know it hurts but the doctors really are coming and—”
“Let me go,” I tell her, the words coming out thick, slow. Pleading. “If you love me, let me go. Let her go. If you do, I can be free. I don’t—you know I shouldn’t be here.”
“Ava,” she says, finally looking at me, and her tears fall on my face. They don’t taste like salt or rain. They don’t taste like anything.
“Please,” I whisper. “Mommy, please.”
She closes her eyes then, bends down so her forehead touches mine.
“I love you,” she says. “You don’t know how much I love you.”
50.
WAKE UP.
Dark, so dark, all I see are stars above me glittering bright. I know them.
Suck in a breath, my lungs starved for air, and Morgan is looking down at me, trees all around him. All around us, their dark branches shadowing the night.
“Ava,” he says, and it sounds like a song, his voice full of joy, full of life, and he touches my cheek, my mouth, presses his lips to my forehead. “Are you all right?”
“Morgan?” I say, wanting to believe I see him, that he’s here, but I’m afraid to.
“I came early,” he says. “I don’t know why I did, but I felt this . . . thing. Like I had to get here, you know? And when I did, you were—you were on the ground and . . . I don’t know. You looked like you were asleep, but you wouldn’t wake up. I thought about—there’s someone I know, that I could ask for help, maybe, but I—I didn’t want to leave you. I just . . . I knew you’d wake up. That you’d come back to me.”
I reach up and touch his hand, feel the warmth of his fingers against my face. “You’re here,” I breathe. “You’re—you’re really here.”
“Where else would I be?” he says, and smiles at me. “I’m glad we’re away from the city. Glad we’re here, and safe, but I—the someone I know, I have to tell you about them. I have to tell you about my family.”
“It’s all right,” I say, and twine my fingers through his. “I know.”
“You know?”
I nod.
“I—Ava,” Morgan says. “I should have told you before, but I—I was afraid that if you knew Clementine was my grandmother that you’d think I was like her. I . . . you really know? And you still want to be here? With me?”
“Yes,” I say. “I know you, know your heart. I’ll always know you. I love you.”
He kisses me then, gently, and whispers, “I was so scared when I got here and saw you, but now . . .” He grins at me, and I see how much he loves me in that smile, I see everything so clearly. I see forever. “Now you have to promise you’re not going anywhere without me, okay?”
“Never,” I say, and close my eyes.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks for everyone at Dutton, especially Julie Strauss-Gabel and Rosanne Lauer.
Jess, thanks for reading so many drafts, and huge hugs to Clara and Amy for their time and thoughts as well. And Diana, I’d have been lost without your pointing out that one word I was missing!
As always, thanks to Robin Rue and Beth Miller for all they do.
Finally, thank you for reading Ava’s story!
As I Wake Page 16
