Blur (Blur Trilogy)

by Steven James

  He pushed that thought aside.

  When he reached the side of the field, he realized they’d already taken his helmet and hidden it. That was typical if the coach or the doctor wanted to make sure a player couldn’t go back on the field.

  Daniel was forced to confront the fact that he was not going to be playing any more in the game tonight.

  With the recent national attention on head injuries in football, Beldon High’s coaches had gone over all of this with the team at the beginning of the year: whenever a player blacks out, it’s classified as a grade-three concussion, and after any concussion, at least in high school, you’re sidelined for the rest of the game.

  There was just too much public concern over repetitive traumatic brain injuries these days—especially with teenagers—to chance it.

  But still, when he first woke up, Daniel had been hoping that maybe things would work out for him this time. That he would be the exception.

  Usually, they would even take the guy to the hospital to look him over, but since Daniel had answered all the doctor’s questions correctly, he hoped he wouldn’t have to mess with any of that after the game.

  He’d lost consciousness.

  Yes.

  But he didn’t know if he’d blacked out from the headache or from the shock of seeing Emily again, or maybe from being hit in the head when he was tackled.

  In the end, it really didn’t matter. He’d seen what he had seen. There was no getting around that.

  Twice now.

  First speaking to him.

  Now holding up her necklace—after pulling it through her neck.

  Emily Jackson, the dead girl, had appeared to him.

  And since no one else was acting strangely—just like at the funeral, when they didn’t respond to what he’d seen in the casket—evidently she had appeared only to him.

  The guys on his team fist-bumped him or smacked his shoulder pads and told him they were glad he was okay, and how well he’d played, and how tough he was to walk off the field after a hit like that.

  His dad was making his way across the track, hurrying toward Daniel.

  “You banged your head pretty hard out there, Dan. You alright?”

  “I’m good.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m fine, I—”

  But he never finished his sentence. There’d been a face-mask penalty when Daniel was sacked, but play had resumed on the field and the second-string quarterback had fumbled the ball on the first snap.

  Half a dozen players piled on each other trying to recover the ball and it wasn’t clear which team had gotten it, but the Pioneers guys were all pointing to their side of the field.

  The refs dug through the pile of players and when they got to the bottom, they made the call.

  Pioneers’ ball.

  Some of the guys around Daniel swore in frustration. He felt like doing the same.

  Since he’d lost consciousness, even though it was only for a short time, his dad could have stayed there at the sidelines with him without any issues—but after he’d confirmed that Daniel was alright, he got a call on his radio and left to take care of some sort of altercation near the concession stand.

  After his dad left, Daniel watched the dismal ending to the game.

  The Pioneers scored.

  Hit the extra point.

  Took the lead 24 to 21.

  Man, he wanted so badly to be out there. He assured his coaches that he was fine, but school policy was clear: after what’d happened, he would be out for the remainder of the game.

  After stopping the Eagles in three plays, Coulee High controlled the ball the rest of the game until the last few seconds, when they hit a field goal to make the score 27 to 21.

  The only hope Beldon had was running back the kickoff, but that didn’t happen.

  They failed to score at all.

  Lost homecoming.

  To the Pioneers, their archrivals.

  Because you were too distracted by a ghost to be focused on the game!

  Although there was no way to be certain, Daniel knew—he knew—he wouldn’t have fumbled that ball. He would have hit Cox for the first down. And they would have moved downfield and scored. If only he hadn’t seen Emily Jackson walking toward him, then everything would’ve turned out alright.

  What’s going on?

  What’s wrong with you?

  Why are you seeing these things!

  Maybe if he’d hallucinated after the hit to the head he could understand it, at least a little bit—but that’s not the way it had played out. It’d happened beforehand and that’s what had caused him to get sacked in the first place.

  Even though he’d smacked his head, it actually hurt less now than it had before the game. The headache, the one that’d been plaguing him all afternoon, was gone.

  He realized that it was similar to when he’d fainted at the funeral—both times his headache had faded away after the vision of Emily appeared.

  The mood in the locker room was dismal, a sense of collective disappointment, but the team knew better than to blame anyone in particular.

  It was part of Coach’s philosophy: you win or lose as a team and not as individuals. “There’s no one to blame when we lose and no one to thank when we win,” he’d told them more than once. “We’re a team. We don’t point fingers and we don’t bask in glory. We go out there and fight and we take victory or defeat with dignity. We leave everything we have on the field and walk away with our heads held high. All together. As a team.”

  Some people might have discounted it as just typical locker room pop psychology, but Daniel got the impression that Coach Warner believed wholeheartedly in what he said.

  A man Daniel had never seen before was waiting for him outside the locker room. He wore an Ohio State windbreaker.

  “Hello, Daniel. My name is Coach Evers. I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes.”

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  “You alright, son?”

  “I am.”

  “You took quite a hit.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Well,” Coach Evers said, “you had a nice game out there.” He took some time to note the different things that’d impressed him about Daniel’s play and his awareness on the field. The compliments made Daniel a little uncomfortable, but he knew how important meeting this recruiter was and he simply thanked him.

  “Listen,” the scout said at last, “I wanted to ask you—I was . . . well, I’m curious. What were you looking at when you were sacked?”

  “What was I looking at?”

  “You were staring at a place on the field where there weren’t any receivers. It was the only time during the game when I saw you do that. I was wondering what distracted you from the play.”

  Daniel almost said, “I thought I saw someone else on the field,” but he realized how odd that might sound.

  Finally, he just muttered, “It all happened pretty fast.”

  “Sure.” Coach Evers seemed to accept that. “I understand.” They spoke for a few more minutes, and at last he promised to follow up during the week to see how Daniel was doing.

  He thanked the Ohio State scout, and after he’d left, Daniel hung around the locker room door for a little while, hoping that the University of Minnesota scout would talk with him too, but no one came by. The guy must not have been too excited about Daniel’s performance tonight.

  There’s always the rest of the season. And there’s always next year. You still have time to impress some scouts enough for a scholarship.

  But honestly, colleges and scholarships and scouts weren’t the foremost things on his mind.

  And neither was the loss of the homecoming game, even though that was huge.

  No, it was seeing Emily again, witnessing her pull that n
ecklace right through her bloated neck—that’s what troubled him the most.

  A silver chain necklace.

  A locket hanging in the middle.

  She’d been wearing that in the photos at the funeral, the ones that looked like they were the most recent.

  You need to do something to make these hallucinations—or whatever they are—stop.

  But Daniel had no idea how to do that.

  Finally, he headed down the hall, a little uncertain about the prospect of facing the students who would most likely be congregated outside the school.

  Stay on this. Seek the truth. Learn what happened.

  He thought of the lake. The place where her body was found. That’s where all these terrible things this last week had started.

  There hadn’t been a football game a week ago on the Friday night Emily disappeared. According to the news articles, two fishermen had found her body on the east side of Lake Algonquin just inside the inlet near Windy Point two days later, on Sunday afternoon.

  Over the years, Daniel had been to that part of the lake a lot, mostly fishing with his dad. It was known for its walleyes, although a few muskies had been taken from there, including the fifty-one-incher hanging at the Antler Inn over on Highway G.

  Go out there, out to the lake tomorrow. Have a look around for yourself. Maybe that’ll make the visions stop.

  He was debating that when he saw Nicole picking her way through the crowd of students who were milling around the parking lot.

  “Are you okay, Daniel?” She didn’t try to hide the concern in her voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Really? Because I . . .”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

  That seemed to reassure her. “Alright, just . . .” Then she switched to another topic—their last conversation. “I need to tell you . . . um . . . I’m really sorry about earlier, you know, at school today. I wasn’t trying to . . . Well, anyway. I’m sure whoever you ask will say yes.”

  “Okay,” was all Daniel could think to say.

  “You sure you’re alright?” She looked like she was about to reach over and touch his arm, but held back. “I was worried about you.”

  “Really, Nicole. I am. Trust me.”

  Yeah, but I did see Emily again, this time during the game. Oh, and by the way, sometimes she talks to me too. So it’s not like I’m losing it or anything. Nothing like that.

  “So,” Nicole said uncertainly, “we’re cool?”

  “We’re cool.”

  Remember what Kyle said? Don’t discount her. Going to homecoming with her would be—

  Coach Warner caught his attention from the edge of the parking lot.

  “Great.” It was clear by Nicole’s tone how relieved she felt. “That’s awesome.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Daniel’s coach started toward him, looking frustrated, and Daniel had the sense that it wasn’t just from them losing their homecoming game.

  After Nicole told him one more time that she was glad he was okay, Daniel excused himself to talk to his coach to find out what was up.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  “Hey, I saw you talking with the scout from Ohio State. That go alright?”

  “It was good,” Daniel replied. “He said he’d contact me this week, check up, see if my head’s feeling better. But it already is. It feels fine.”

  “Glad to hear that.” His gaze slipped past Daniel toward the school. “Listen, you know procedure, Daniel. Jumping through the hoops. It’s all about liability issues these days. The school board, the lawyers.”

  “Procedure?”

  Coach Warner glanced to the left. One of the paramedics had driven the ambulance around the edge of the field and was on his way to their end of the parking lot.

  “No, Coach. You’re not serious.”

  “Just bear with it. Get your head looked over, get home, get some rest. You played well tonight. Nothing to be ashamed of. Now take care of yourself. We face the Bulldogs next week and I’m going to need you on your A game.”

  “I will be.”

  Daniel took a second to mentally shift gears and get ready for this.

  While he was on his way to the ambulance, Kyle jogged over and met up with him. “Dude, you got slobberknocked out there.”

  “Yeah. No kidding.”

  “You need me to give you a ride home or anything?”

  He pointed at the ambulance. “They want to check me over at the hospital, but maybe you could meet me there, bring me back here to pick up my car afterward?”

  Daniel’s dad was on his way toward them.

  “Done. Or I could just take you to your place when you’re finished and we could grab your car in the morning.”

  “Either way works.”

  As Daniel was boarding the ambulance, Coach Warner and the paramedic explained to his father what was going on.

  He left for his squad car. “I’ll follow you to the hospital.”

  Thankfully, the emergency room visit didn’t end up being too big a deal. The docs told Daniel he needed to take it easy for a couple days and to ice his head and take some Advil if it was still hurting.

  They emphasized that he was not to drive tonight, but cleared him for practice on Monday, as long as he didn’t have any recurring headaches.

  Daniel’s dad had to answer a call from the station, so he okayed Kyle’s driving him back to the house. They decided one of them would shuttle Daniel over in the morning to pick up his car from school.

  By the time Kyle pulled up to the curb in front of Daniel’s house it was nearly eleven o’clock.

  Daniel climbed out.

  “Text me tomorrow,” Kyle said.

  “I will.”

  The night had grown colder. The air felt heavy and raw, as if winter were gnawing at autumn, anxious to move in and take its place.

  Kyle left, and as Daniel was walking up the driveway to his house he saw movement in the shadows near the garage.

  He froze.

  A wave of apprehension swept over him as he remembered the vision he’d had on the football field, and he hoped, hoped, hoped he wasn’t going to see Emily again.

  The images of her sitting up in the casket, facing him, holding up that necklace, all returned to him.

  In the chilled night his breath was visible when he spoke. “Who’s there?”

  The figure stepped out of the shadows and into the porch light.

  A girl.

  But it wasn’t Emily Jackson.

  It was Stacy Clern.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  “Stacy? What are you doing here?”

  “I saw what happened to you at the game. I looked for you afterward, but I couldn’t find you. Someone said you’d gone home, then I heard you were in the hospital. I wasn’t sure if I should go over there or come here to . . .”

  “But how did you know where I live?”

  “Your dad’s the sheriff, remember? You’re not that hard to track down. Are you okay? I mean, you had to go to the hospital?”

  “It’s just what they always do when someone gets clonked on the head. It’s no big deal.”

  “Oh. Good—I mean, that it’s no big deal, not that you were clonked.”

  “Sure. I get it.”

  “Um . . . So I guess you probably need to what? Lie low for a couple days? Rest up?”

  “They want me to take it easy, so I’m just hanging out tomorrow, mostly. I think I might go over to the lake in the morning.”

  “The lake?”

  “Lake Algonquin.”

  “That’s where that girl Emily was found.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you going ove
r there?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I mean, I guess I’m hoping to get some kind of closure.”

  A pause, then: “Can I come?”

  “To the lake?”

  “Yeah. I could use some closure too.”

  “Well . . .” Although her offer to come along took him off guard, the idea of hanging out with her was definitely something he was interested in. “Sure.”

  “It’s not far from my place. How ’bout I meet you there?”

  “Okay. There’s a parking lot by the boat landing over on the east side. The inlet is about a ten-minute walk from there. Ten o’clock work?”

  “How about ten thirty?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alright. Boat landing. East end of the lake. Ten thirty. Got it. See you there.”

  After they’d told each other goodnight, she left and Daniel went inside to get changed for bed.

  As he lay down, he found himself thinking about the necklace Emily had been wearing when he saw her on the field, but that she didn’t have one when he saw her in the casket.

  Closure.

  That’s what he’d told Stacy he was looking for. And that’s what he was going to find tomorrow morning at the lake when they visited that inlet where Emily’s body had been found.

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

  No nightmares haunted his sleep.

  No wounds were scarring his arm when he awoke.

  Yes, he had the typical stiffness and sore muscles from the previous night’s game, mostly in his lower back, though his left knee was sore today too, but that was about it.

  He’d been a little worried that he’d have a headache from when he was hit, but his head felt surprisingly fine.

  Maybe things were finally getting back to normal.

  After breakfast, his dad left for work and Daniel shuffled through the newspapers that were in the recycle bin, looking for articles about Emily.

  As he read through them, he realized that he must have seen the papers before, even just in passing, maybe on the kitchen table where his dad typically left them after breakfast, because some of the details of Emily’s disappearance and death seemed vaguely familiar.

  Trevor was mentioned in one of the articles that contained a picture of him and Emily. Her mom had been interviewed and said she’d found the dog in the front yard late Friday night. Apparently, her daughter had left a note that she was taking him for a walk out around Lake Algonquin near where they lived, but had never returned.