by Steven James
“To find who? Grandpa? But he was dead.”
“Yes.” He started the car. “He was.”
The conversation pooled off into stillness like water trickling into a stagnant lake.
Then the two of them left for Superior to find out what was really wrong with Daniel.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
The morning was spent in a series of tests—an MRI, a CAT scan, and some other ones Daniel had never even heard of. It was nearly noon when the neurologist finally met up with him and his father to talk through the results.
She was a petite woman with stark brown eyes, wire-rimmed glasses, and short hair. She had a somewhat uneasy smile, probably from trying to put a positive spin on the bad news that she had to share all too often with her patients.
Daniel could see a storm of worry on his dad’s face and it spoke volumes as to how much he really did care about him.
He guessed that his dad was probably thinking about more than just the two times in the last week that his son had blacked out. Undoubtedly, the incident with Akira’s corpse was also on his mind.
The two of them took seats in the doctor’s office on the pair of leather chairs facing the desk. Diplomas hung from the walls, and thick medical textbooks filled the shelves. The window behind the desk faced a small park that lay across the street where two little kids were playing with their mom in the sunlight.
The doctor sat facing them. “Well, from what I can see, we can rule out a tumor, and that’s something we can be thankful for.” She paused as if she were expecting them to agree, but they were quiet, attentive, waiting expectantly for her to tell them what was actually going on.
She took a little time to summarize the test results, then concluded by saying, “The truth is, I can’t find anything physically wrong with you, Daniel. That’s good news.” The way she phrased that made Daniel think that maybe she was about to share some bad news.
Nothing physically wrong. So it must just be in your head, that’s what she’s saying.
And that was bad news in itself, because if there was no tumor, there weren’t that many reasons left for why he was having hallucinations. Pretty much just one thing: schizophrenia.
“And so,” Daniel’s dad said, “where does that leave us?”
“Well, there’s another doctor you might want to see. Actually, he’s right there in Beldon.” She sounded like she was trying a little too hard to sound nonchalant as she spoke.
“A second opinion?”
A slight pause. “In a sense. Yes.”
Daniel had a feeling he knew what kind of doctor she was about to recommend.
“But you did the tests already,” his dad said. “You said we can rule out a brain tumor. Are you saying you think we need another set of eyes to interpret the results?”
The silence that followed made Daniel uncomfortable, and he expected that by now his dad must certainly have pieced together what was going on. Maybe he was just waiting for the doctor to spell it out to them.
At last she replied, “That’s not exactly what I’m suggesting. I’m saying that physically there’s nothing wrong with Daniel.”
“Physically.” The way he said that made it clear that he was thinking along the same lines as Daniel.
“Yes.” She sounded like she definitely did not want to be having this conversation. Reaching into her pocket she produced a business card. “I’ve written his cell number on the back. He’s experienced at this sort of thing.”
“And what sort of thing is that?” His father’s voice had become sharp.
“Um . . . Well, you told me what happened with the sleepwalking last night and—”
“What are you saying? A shrink? That my son needs to see a psychiatrist?”
“From what you’ve shared with me, Daniel has been under a lot of stress lately—the funeral of the girl from his school, the pressure of performing well at the football game in front of the college scouts—”
“It’s not stress,” Daniel told her. “That’s not what’s causing any of this.” He didn’t bring up the hallucinations. That definitely would not have helped matters.
Daniel’s dad shook his head. “My son doesn’t need to see a psychiatrist.”
She was still holding the business card out for them. “There’s no stigma to—”
“Thank you for your time.” Daniel’s father rose.
“He’s very good,” she assured them. “Meet with him once. If it doesn’t go well, at least you gave it a shot.”
“Thanks, but we’ll be alright.” He indicated for Daniel to follow him out of the office.
It looked like the doctor was about to pocket the card, but she extended it one more time. “If you change your mind.”
Although Daniel had the sense that his father had no intention of calling the psychiatrist, in the end he accepted the card and stuffed it into his pocket.
Then, with what seemed like somewhat forced politeness, he thanked the doctor and led his son out of her office.
Daniel puzzled over why his dad was so set against him seeing a psychiatrist. He could think of only one reason: right before their separation, Daniel’s parents had seen a counselor a few times and that hadn’t turned out exceptionally well.
Psychologist, psychiatrist, it didn’t really matter.
Either one is going to look for the same thing—something wrong with your head.
Something that’s not just physically wrong.
Once they were outside, his father tossed the business card into a nearby trash can. “Let’s get some lunch.”
“Sure.”
When they were in the car and on their way, Daniel said, “What are you going to tell Mom?”
“Exactly what that doctor said.”
“And that is?”
“That there’s nothing wrong with you.”
Of course, that wasn’t exactly what the doctor had said, but Daniel had the sense that pointing that out would not be such a good idea.
“What are you hungry for?” his dad asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Anything is fine.”
“Subs, then. I saw a place on the way.”
Apart from mentioning it to the doctor, they hadn’t spoken at all about the incident involving the puppy’s remains since they’d left home earlier that morning, and Daniel expected that at any time his dad would bring it up.
But he did not.
They were about fifteen minutes from Beldon when his father turned off the highway and steered the car onto one of the little-used county roads near the national forest and the trail leading to Wolf Cave.
“Where are we going?” Daniel asked.
“There’s somewhere I’d like you to take me.”
“Where’s that?”
“I want you to show me exactly where you found those glasses on the beach at Lake Algonquin.”
CHAPTER
FORTY
Daniel led his father along the trail that skirted around the lake and eventually they came to the stretch of beach where he’d brought Stacy.
The storm from the previous night had cleared out, and in contrast to Saturday, when it’d been cold, overcast, and rainy out here, today the sky was stark blue with only a few tendrils of sparse clouds dragged in thin lines along the horizon.
It looked more like a summer day than one in the heart of autumn.
Again, just like last night when it’d smelled springlike outside, the seasons seemed to be fluctuating in a random way around him.
“Right over here, Dad.”
His father joined him at the spot where he’d found the glasses.
He was silent as he studied the area, and Daniel had the sense that he was looking for something specific, though what it might have been he couldn’t say.
His dad kicked some sand aside,
noted the position of the campfire pit and the distance to the trail that led up the bluff to the top of Windy Point.
As patiently as he could, Daniel waited for him to say something, and finally, when he didn’t, Daniel asked, “What are you thinking?”
“You were right about the distance from the bluff and about the water not rising this high up the beach. You’re sure you found them right here?”
“Positive.”
He knelt and dug through the sand near the spot, most likely looking for the missing lens. A few minutes later, when he didn’t find anything, he stood. “You told me you came out here for closure.”
“Yes.”
“Closure for what?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what were you trying to settle in your mind? What were you hoping to find?”
“It was about Emily’s death. I was trying to figure out a way to deal with it.”
That was partly true.
It was also true that he was trying to deal with the fact that after Emily died she’d started appearing to him.
“And how would coming out here do that?” his dad asked. “Bring closure for you?”
Daniel struggled with deciding how much to tell him about what was happening. If he confessed what he’d been seeing, his dad would almost certainly think he was going nuts—especially after what had happened this morning with Akira.
He already knows something is up. I mean, you wander outside in the middle of a storm, dig up your mom’s dead puppy and lay it on the hood of the car . . . Seriously? And then you have no memory of it ever happening?
His dad waited for him to answer.
“I’ve been seeing things.”
“Things?”
“Emily. She appeared to me, twice. Asked me to find her glasses. Told me Trevor was in the car.”
“Trevor?”
“Her dog.”
Daniel expected his father to respond as Kyle had, with a comment about how Emily was dead and couldn’t possibly be talking to him.
But instead he was silent.
He had to be thinking that something serious was wrong with his son. Something very serious. He had to be.
Now that Daniel had brought up the hallucinations, he thought he might as well just lay everything out there. “I saw her sit up in the casket when we were at the funeral, and I saw her walking across the football field in the homecoming game.”
“And you thought that coming out here would make those visions stop?”
He studied his dad’s face to try to discern what he was thinking.
“I didn’t know,” Daniel said. “I was hoping it would.”
“You say she appeared to you before your concussion at the football game?”
“Yes. That’s what made me hesitate. That’s why I got hit in the first place.”
There was a long pause.
“Do you think I’m going crazy?”
“No.” But he hadn’t answered immediately, and that made Daniel wonder how honest he was being.
“Are you thinking about that other doctor?” Daniel asked. “The psychiatrist?”
This time he did reply right away. “Regardless of what’s going on here, we need to make these visions—or whatever they are—stop.”
I agree.
“So you think I should see him?”
“I won’t lie to you. After what happened last night I’m . . . Well, it can’t hurt anything. Talking things through with someone.”
“In Superior you didn’t like the idea.”
“In Superior I didn’t know a dead girl was talking to you.”
Daniel didn’t bring up the mark that’d appeared on his arm. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“I’ll give him a call in the morning.”
“You threw out the business card.”
“I remember his name.” He started down the trail. “Dr. Fromke.”
“And his number?”
“And his number.”
You have to be paying pretty close attention to memorize a phone number when you just glance at a business card. So, maybe his dad had considered having Daniel see the shrink back when they were leaving the doctor’s office that morning after all.
Daniel was deep in thought all the way home.
When they arrived his father told him that he would take care of Akira, that he didn’t need to worry about it.
Daniel wondered if he was burying the dog by himself so his son wouldn’t know where the remains were and wouldn’t be able to find them if he did happen to get up in the middle of the night again.
It seemed like the trust they’d established over the last few months was beginning to erode. And it was all because of things that were out of Daniel’s control.
After supper he realized he still hadn’t spoken with Kyle, Stacy, or Nicole, and he felt like he needed to touch base with all three of them.
He evaluated things.
Kyle. Nicole. Stacy.
He decided to try Nicole first.
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, it’s Daniel.”
“Hey. Where were you today?”
He’d informed her last night that he would be gone from school today, but hadn’t told her where he was going to be. “I had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. It’s good. I’m good.”
“I took down the assignments for you,” Nicole told him. “I mean for the classes we have together.”
“Thanks.”
“Miss Flynn was asking about you. I thought that was a little odd, I mean, kids get sick or miss class all the time. But she asked me where you were.”
“Huh.”
Why did she ask Nicole? She knows you’re best friends with Kyle. Why wouldn’t she have asked him?
At last he got to the reason for his call. “I wanted to make sure we met up tomorrow so I can give you your earring.”
“Oh. Sure, whenever, that’d be great.” Then she said, “Daniel, I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
She took a deep breath. “So, about the other night. When you were taking me home. When I was in the car and Ty pulled out that knife and those guys were surrounding me, pounding on the windows . . . I was . . . Well, I was really scared.”
“I can understand.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Sometimes I’m good at hiding things.”
“Oh.” She didn’t seem to know what to make of that. “But also, you made me feel safe. I trusted you. I mean, when you were ready to fight off all four of ’em to protect me. It was pretty awesome.”
“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”
“I know.”
And I won’t let anything happen to you.
“Anyway, thanks.”
“Of course.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Meet you after fourth hour?”
“After fourth hour,” Nicole said. “Perfect.”
Next, Kyle.
Emily had written his name all over her notebook, and Daniel hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about it yet. He’d been hoping to discuss it with him in person, but he didn’t want to wait any longer, so he called his friend.
When Kyle picked up, they whipped through some filler talk, the kind of stuff that gives you the context for a conversation about the things that really matter:
“Why were you gone today?”
“I was at the doctor’s.”
“What for?”
“My head.”
And so on.
Daniel concluded by sharing about his s
leepwalking and what he’d done to Akira’s body.
“Okay, I have to say, dude, that’s very disturbing. You know that, right?”
“Here’s the scariest thing: I did all that—put on my clothes, dug up the grave, moved Akira’s body, then climbed back into bed—and I don’t remember any of it. I was wondering if I did it because of what we’d talked about the other day when you mentioned visiting the graveyard.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I guess that makes sense—I mean, if that’s what was on your mind. Or maybe you dug up your mom’s dog because you’ve been thinking of that other dog, Trevor.”
Daniel hadn’t considered that.
“Hey, listen,” Kyle said, “when I was watching Michele yesterday I was thinking about what we were talking about—ghosts and everything. She has this imaginary pet kitten, Toni, that she talks to all the time and it got me wondering about stuff people see that isn’t there, you know, what’s real and what’s not. I’m still not sure I believe in ghosts, but I went online yesterday and did some research. Have you ever heard of daymares?”
“Daymares?”
“They’re like nightmares, only you have ’em during the day—obviously. They’re like daydreams, only horrifying. Similar to nightmares, but you have them while you’re awake.”
“So, hallucinations?”
“I guess; I’m not sure what the difference is. I’m wondering if maybe that’s what’s going on with you.”
“I’ll read up on ’em. Tomorrow my dad’s calling a shrink to see if we can figure out what’s wrong.”
“A shrink?”
“Yeah.”
Ask him about Emily. Tell him about her notebook.
But Kyle spoke before Daniel could: “So you told your dad? About the visions and everything?”
“Well, finding Akira’s body on the hood of the car was a pretty good indicator that whatever’s going on with me is not good.”
“And it sounds like it’s getting worse.”
“Thanks for that little reminder.”
“Anytime, bro.”
Daniel stared at the journal on the edge of the desk in front of him. “Remember how I wrote that blog entry for Teach on how my thoughts were wandering out of formation?”
“Yes.”
“Another image came to me when we were driving home from the doctor’s today.”
