Dust to Dust
Page 24
Then Dylan steps forward with his hand out. “Sir, I’m Dylan Mason Dixon. The five of us are working on a science project together involving kinetic energy, and we wanted to get an early start today.”
Dad grins in spite of himself—science gets him every time, and so does a firm handshake. He obviously hasn’t found his cell phone yet with messages from school about how I was absent again yesterday, but I’ll handle that later.
“Fine. I’ll leave you to it, then,” says my dad. “Callie, I’m staying home today. Maybe after school, can you help me look for my phone? I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Sure,” I tell him.
“Have a good day, everyone.” He walks out and Carson pushes my door almost closed.
When she does, we all break into this weird fit of laughter, our faces plastered with smiles, our hearts filled with happiness and relief. We did it. The threat against us is gone and we’re all alive, safe and together. Actually, together . . . with an exception.
“Wendy said to thank you,” says Nick.
Dylan raises a finger. “I believe what she said was that she cannot ever imagine being able to thank you enough. And that she’ll call you this weekend.”
I feel a bittersweet pang in my heart. It’ll be nice to know Wendy, to keep a connection to Thatcher’s life and remember him in the way his family does. I feel pretty lucky to have that—a link to the people who loved him before I did.
“Thanks, y’all,” I say. Then I look down at my pajamas. “So I should probably . . .”
“Get dressed? Yeah, that would be good,” says Carson.
“Are we really going to school today?” asks Nick. “That seems so . . . lame.”
Carson frowns. “Yes! Do you think we can afford another absence? I certainly can’t. Mama’s already mad as a horsefly about yesterday, and she still doesn’t believe what I told her.”
“What’d you tell her?” asks Dylan.
“That they got Carson Jenkins confused with Caitlin Johnson and that I was actually at school all day.”
“Weak,” says Eli.
“I know, I know.” Carson points to the door. “But we do need to go to school. Would y’all excuse us so Callie can get ready?”
The guys go downstairs to wait and Carson sits on my bed as I grab my towel and start for the shower.
In the doorway to the bathroom, I pause to look at my best friend. Here. Alive. In front of me. Out of danger. And, if I’m reading her right, about to have her first boyfriend. I expect something to ache inside of me at that thought, but instead I’m unable to contain my smile.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she says.
“Do what?”
“Pretend like you’re okay. I know you miss him already.”
“I’m not pretending,” I say. “I do miss him, but I feel . . . like everything is how it should be.”
“I know you had to let him go to save me,” she says, her eyes welling up. “Nick told me. I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Callie.”
I walk back over to the bed and wrap her up in a hug. “Don’t be. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Thatcher would, too.”
“Thank you,” she says, holding me tight. “I know I would have done it for you.”
Suddenly there’s a gust of air in the room, which catches the curtains over my window seat, blowing them apart to reveal the prism hanging in the front of the glass, sparkling and twirling in the morning light. For just an instant, it casts rainbows around the room, dancing like the lights of joyous souls among fading shadows, reminding me that Thatcher’s ring is still on my finger.
Epilogue
One Month Later
“UH-OH, WE BROUGHT THE same flowers!” I hear Wendy’s voice behind me, and it’s the sound of tinkling bells instead of heartache and pain.
I turn around and look at her radiant smile, and I grin back at her, still seeing a part of him in all of her features. We’re both holding bouquets of white daisies with yellow centers, laughing at the coincidence.
“It just seems like a Thatcher flower,” I say.
“Right? Simple and pure,” Wendy agrees.
We look down at the same time, staring at the gray headstone in front of us.
“It’s kind of strange,” she says.
“What is?”
“Being here without . . . I don’t know, wanting to die myself,” she says. “Even though I know he isn’t with us anymore, it feels good to know that he’s someplace safe.”
I nod, remembering the dream of him and my mom together as I play with the ring on my finger. “I know what you mean.”
Then we hear a tree branch snap on the ground behind us. When I turn, I see Nurse K. She’s just a few feet away, walking along the grass and carrying three white roses. I raise my eyebrows in wonder.
“Hi, Callie,” she says, looking just as surprised as I am.
Wendy gasps. “Hayley? Is that you?”
Nurse K brushes her hair from her eyes, and suddenly one last puzzle piece drops into place.
“Nurse Hayley Krzysiek . . . ,” I whisper.
The girl who survived Thatcher’s accident in the Wando River.
She and Wendy quickly move into a hug and when they part, Wendy says, “I haven’t seen you since . . .” She pauses. “You just . . .”
“Disappeared,” says Nurse K, her voice cracking. “I know. After graduation I went to college up north. I tried to forget what happened. It was so awful, I . . .”
She can’t bring herself to finish her thought, so Wendy reaches out to touch her arm. “It took me years to come home to Charleston,” Nurse K continues. “I wanted to give people time to forget, and so I took a job in another school district. I just didn’t want to be the girl who survived.”
“We understand,” I say.
Nurse K steps away from Wendy and places one white rose on Thatcher’s grave. I look at the other two flowers she’s holding, and then up into her kind, gentle face.
“They’re okay,” I say to her. “All three of them.” And though there’s no reason she should believe me, or even be sure what I mean, I can feel a bond of trust forming between us.
“I know,” she says. “That’s why I’m here. Somehow, I felt it.” Then she smiles and tilts her head at me. “But wait. Callie, how do you know that?”
Wendy puts her arm around me. “Callie’s an old family friend,” she tells Nurse K, who gives me a sly grin.
“You’re a mysterious girl,” she says.
“Takes one to know one,” I reply.
Nurse K squeezes my shoulder affectionately before she walks away to leave two more white roses for her old friends. She never got to say good-bye to them, and neither did I, but I think we’ve both come to terms with that, for very different reasons. Hopefully someone was there to meet them after their souls were forced out of Carson and Eli. Hopefully, they’ve let go of the things that made them fight against their destiny and all the love and peace that had always been waiting for them. Since Nurse K is here, I have to believe that.
We stay for a little longer, Thatcher’s sister and I. And when we leave, we agree to see each other again at Thanksgiving break. “Maybe at a café next time though?” she says. “This place, it’s not where he’d want us to remember him.”
“You’re right,” I say, smiling.
We walk back to the entrance and when we part to go to our respective cars, Wendy reaches out and takes my hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. I hold on for a moment, Thatcher’s ring pressing against our skin, and I can feel a warmth between us that I have a feeling will be there for life.
Acknowledgments
Thank you, thank you, thank you to the people who participated in this book’s creation: Morgan Baden, Claudia Gabel, Sara Lyle, Sarah MacLean, Lauren Mechling, Melissa Miller, Micol Ostow, Doug Stewart, and the entire team at Katherine Tegen Books!
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About the Author
Photo by Marcie Hume
MELISSA WALKER is the author of Ashes to Ashes, Unbreak My Heart, Small Town Sinners, Lovestruck Summer, and the Violet on the Runway series. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and daughter. You can find her online at www.melissacwalker.com.
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Books by Melissa Walker
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Credits
Cover art © 2015 by Terry Bidgood / Trevillion Images
Cover design by Kate J. Engbring
Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
DUST TO DUST. Copyright © 2015 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Walker, Melissa (Melissa Carol), date
Dust to dust / Melissa Walker. — First edition.
pagescm
Sequel to: Ashes to ashes.
Summary: After surviving a tragic accident, sixteen-year-old Callie McPhee wakes up from a coma with knowledge of the afterlife where she met Thatcher, the spirit who protected her, and can help her save the people she loves from the menace of evil spirits.
ISBN 978-0-06-207737-0 (hardcover)
EPub Edition © April 2015 ISBN 9780062077394
1. Coma—Juvenile fiction. 2. Future life—Juvenile fiction. 3. Ghost stories. 4. Spirit possession—Juvenile fiction. 5. Love stories. 6. Paranormal fiction. 7. Charleston (S.C.)—Juvenile fiction. [1. Coma—Fiction. 2. Future life—Fiction. 3. Ghosts—Fiction. 4. Spirit possession—Fiction. 5. Love—Fiction. 6. Supernatural—Fiction. 7. Charleston (S.C.)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.W153625Du 2015 2014030717
[Fic]—dc23 CIP
AC
15 16 17 18 19 PC/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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