The Last Words We Said
Page 21
“Your mom said you were going to the Edelsteins’?” she gasps when she catches up with us. She has the pale, pinched look of someone who hasn’t broken their fast. “Hold on a second. I want to come with you.” She leans over and grips her side. “Just give me a minute. I ran all the way.”
“Thank you for coming,” I tell her.
Rae acknowledges my thanks with a grunt. “Well, I know how you feel about fasting. So if you’re putting off dinner to talk to Mr. Edelstein, I figured it had to be important.”
Deenie sways again and puts a hand to her forehead. “We should get going. We don’t want to interrupt Mr. Edelstein’s meal.”
I have a feeling he won’t be in an eating mood after I speak to him, but I nod and reach out for Rae’s hand. We walk mostly in silence. Deenie comments once about the weather. Rae makes a moaning noise and clutches her growling stomach. “Out of all the Jewish stuff, this is the one I chose to keep. Unbelievable. God better appreciate it.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in God,” I point out.
She shrugs. “Old habits die hard.” She smiles and sticks her tongue out at the sky. “Hear that? I don’t believe in You!”
“Who are you talking to, then?” I tease. “The man in the moon?”
“Come on, guys. Could we maybe not mock God on the night after Yom Kippur?” Deenie suggests weakly.
But I want to keep joking. It’s distracting me from thinking about our destination and the conversation I’m about to have.
And I’m desperate for one last laugh with my two best friends. I’m light-headed and sick to my stomach, but I don’t want this moment to end. As we round the corner onto Deenie’s street, I stop in the middle of the road and point at the ground.
“Do you remember that spot, Deenie?” I ask. “It was right here.”
She stares at me.
“The day you met Danny,” I explain. “He was yelling those dirty words? And you refused to hit him, remember?”
Rae grins and nudges her with her elbow. “What did he say?”
Deenie blushes and shakes her head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Poodle sex,” I declare gleefully.
Rae crows with laughter. “Seriously? What else?”
“Butt plugs!” I shout.
Deenie hushes me and glances toward her house. “Come on, Ellie. People will hear you,” she whispers. But then her eyes twinkle and she leans forward toward us. “Dildo face,” she whispers.
I almost collapse on the pavement. Rae is doubled over, hiccuping and giggling as she clutches her belly. “Good old shrimpy boy,” she gasps. “He can still make us laugh.”
We stand in the road for a few minutes, smiling. Behind me, a lone pair of headlights brightens up the street, and we scoot onto the sidewalk to let the car pass.
“A cop car,” Rae points out as we start off again. “That’s weird. On this dead-end road?”
“It’s not an emergency.” Deenie shrugs. “The siren isn’t on.”
“They seem to be looking for someone,” I point out. The car passes Deenie’s house and then slows down, as if checking the numbers on the homes.
“The Bergers are probably fighting again,” Deenie remarks. “One of them always ends up calling 911.”
The police car passes the Bergers’ and rounds the corner.
“Oh.” Deenie’s eyes widen. “There are only three houses in that cul-de-sac.”
The Edelstein home is one of them. It’s not a premonition, exactly, but we speed up a little, and Rae grabs at my hand as we turn the corner.
The cop car is sitting in Danny’s driveway when we reach the top of the hill. Deenie stops dead in the middle of the street and pulls us back toward her. Two policemen exit the car; the short one quietly checks the number on the porch and nods at his partner. They walk up the stairs, side by side. The tall one rings the doorbell.
“We should go,” Deenie says, but none of us move. We’re rooted to our spots, our eyes glued to the thick shoulders of the large cop.
The porch light flares and the door swings open; Mr. Edelstein totters into view. The flickering lamp over his face makes him blink. He seems confused by what the cop is saying. He nods slowly and clasps his hands together.
“Can you hear anything?” Rae whispers.
We can’t, but we can read faces and body language. The cops’ shoulders are heavy; their arms hang limply at their sides. The short one points at the door, as if asking to come in. Mr. Edelstein shakes his head and gestures wildly with his hands.
The cops exchange looks. The tall one indicates a porch chair and tries to lead Mr. Edelstein to it, but he shakes him off and shouts at him.
The cops look at each other again.
And then one of them leans forward and speaks.
Says a few words.
Mr. Edelstein takes a step back. There’s a beat of silence. The cop bows his head.
Danny’s father sways in the doorway. We can see his face under the glare of the porch light. His lips are hanging open, but he doesn’t make a sound. The cop steps forward with one arm extended. But he’s too late. Mr. Edelstein crumples over like he’s been stabbed and topples to the ground.
THE LAST TIME I HUGGED DANNY
As the sun rose on New Year’s Day, Danny woke me with a tap on my window, just as he promised he would. I jumped out of bed and stumbled across the room to let him in.
But somehow he was already inside, rubbing the cold from his blue hands and stamping his feet on my carpet. Clumps of muddy slush dropped from his boots onto the rug. Little shards of ice clung to his eyelashes.
The snow on his lips tasted sweet when I kissed him.
“You’re warm,” I said as he wrapped his arms around me. “How are you so warm?”
“I think that’s you,” he murmured. “I’m freezing.”
“Here, get under the blanket,” I whispered, pulling him toward my bed. “I’ll cover you up.”
He kicked off his boots and climbed in, and I pulled the comforter over our heads. He sighed and buried his face in my hair. “One last hug, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m about to be grounded for the rest of my life.”
“So? I can sneak out and see you for a change.”
He laughed. “I just climbed into your room at dawn and left a puddle of mud on your carpet. Your parents will be furious. The curfew will be pulled back to six p.m.”
“So I’ll wait. I can wait forever if I have to.”
He kissed me again and tickled my side. “I’m not so good at waiting, remember?”
“Yeah, that’s true.” I brushed his hair back from his forehead. “So what are we going to do?”
He wrinkled his nose at me. “I guess we’ll just have to break a few rules.”
Chapter 24
I can’t see Mr. Edelstein. The two cops are standing over him, trying to help him up. Next to me, Rae is taking short, ragged breaths. Deenie is completely silent; she seems to have stopped breathing altogether. I can’t look at them; I won’t look at them. If I see their faces, I’ll understand what’s happening in front of me. Mr. Edelstein must be overreacting. That wasn’t real grief I saw—it can’t be. He’s fasting and overwrought. The cops are probably here for something else. Perhaps an elderly relative of his has passed away. Or he was a witness to a crime, and they’ve come by to collect evidence. Or he has hundreds of unpaid parking tickets and he’s in a lot of trouble.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Danny’s voice makes me jump.
I turn around and he’s standing behind me, a goofy grin on his face. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets. He’s wearing his favorite black polo and torn blue jeans.
“Well?” he asks me. “What are you waiting for?”
I motion toward his house.
“That has nothing to do with you,” he says. His voice is edged with impatience. “Turn around. Don’t look at them.”
I do as he says. He nods, plea
sed, and spreads his arms out wide.
“Come on, Ellie. Let’s go. I’ll race you.”
I stumble toward him. Behind me, Deenie calls my name. I feel someone grab at my jacket, but I shake them off.
Danny waves at them. “Bye, guys. We’re out of here.”
We run.
Danny is just a few paces ahead, but my dress shoes are slowing me down, and I can’t keep up with him. He disappears over the hilltop, and I shout for him to slow down.
I catch a glimpse of him as I round the corner. He’s darted behind some trees and is motioning for me to follow him. “Where are you going?” I gasp.
“We’re playing hide-and-seek,” he declares. “Starting right—now!”
And he takes off again.
I can’t let him get away. So I race after him, tracking him into the shadows, pushing aside branches and stumbling over knotted roots as I go. We run for ages, past the synagogue, the playground, the strip mall, down long winding streets I don’t recognize. He never lets me catch him; no matter how hard I push my aching legs, he’s always just out of reach. I don’t know where he’s taking me, but as long as he’s in front of me, I have to follow.
At the top of a hill, I pause for a moment to catch my breath and peer into the darkness. He doesn’t answer when I shout his name. He’s disappeared completely, and I’m scared that I’ll be left alone in the middle of this deserted, gloomy street. “Why are you doing this?” I plead. “Can you come out? I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“It isn’t a game,” he says. He’s standing next to me, smiling calmly, just like before. I’m shaking and sweating from our sprint, but he’s as cool as if he’s just woken from a long nap. “We aren’t playing. You have to find me.”
“What do you mean? You’re right here.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve been gone nine months. And you never once looked for me. Why not?”
“I—I don’t know,” I falter. “I didn’t know where to look.”
He smiles sadly. “I would have searched for you. I wouldn’t have let you go.”
“But I didn’t,” I protest. “Danny, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts. “Come with me. I’ll show you where I’ve been.” He takes off down the street. “It isn’t far from here,” he calls.
I have no choice. I run after him; my legs are burning, and my lungs are filling with icicles, but I have to follow him. The wait is almost over. God is answering my prayers. I’m going to find Danny. I’m going to succeed where the police have failed.
And when I bring him back, everyone will be so overjoyed that it will wash away what I did. When we’re together again, all will be forgiven. We’ll start over and make up stories with sweet, forgivable mistakes. Misunderstandings that end in kisses, errors that are painted over by the closing chapter. We’ll write ourselves the happy ending we deserve.
I just have to find him and it will be okay.
I only wish that I could run faster. My heart is hammering thunder in my ears, and there are floating kaleidoscope spots dancing in front of me. “Danny, please,” I plead between gasps. “Please slow down.”
“I can’t,” he calls over his shoulder. “We’re almost out of time. You have to find me before they do.”
My side cramps and I double over. “I’m trying,” I tell him. “But I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
He stops suddenly and turns around. Crosses his arms over his chest. “I haven’t eaten in nine months, Ellie,” he says.
My stomach stabs me, but I bite my lip and swallow the pain. “I’m coming. Please wait.”
He doesn’t; Danny is pitiless tonight. He pushes me onward, and I stumble blindly after him, following the sound of his beating tennis shoes and the dancing lights before my eyes. I can’t see him anymore, but I know that I have to keep going, or he’ll never forgive me.
I can’t let him go again. This is my last chance to redeem myself. Before they find him.
I’m still running when I collapse onto the grass; I kick my rubber legs to push myself forward. I’ve almost made it. He promised me. We’re almost there.
“Wait for me,” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer.
“Danny!” I call. “Come back!”
He doesn’t. The street is quiet and I’m alone.
“I’m coming.”
I close my eyes.
THE MORNING AFTER
I woke up to the blinking of red and blue lights. The pillow next to me was cold; I pushed back the blanket, but there was nobody there but me. He must have slipped away, I thought to myself as I pulled on my robe. He probably went home. It’s a good thing he got out before my parents found him there. I didn’t want to be grounded at the same time he was.
The acrid smell of burnt toast greeted me as I padded down the stairs. My parents were standing in the kitchen, holding steaming mugs of untouched coffee. Their faces were pinched, distracted. They were listening to a voice I didn’t recognize.
“Ellie! I was just about to wake you,” my mother said as I came in. “This is Officer Braddock.”
A large man in a blue uniform turned to greet me. “Hello, Ellie. I’m afraid I have to ask you a few questions.”
I was suddenly scared. The cops were going to take away Danny’s license, just as he’d predicted. “Is this about Danny?” I blurted out. “Is he in trouble? Officer, the accident wasn’t his fault. It was sleeting.”
“I see.” The cop and my mother exchanged looks. “You two have been in communication, then?”
I nodded. “Yes. He called me after he crashed the car.”
The cop flipped open his notepad. “I see. And what time was this, exactly?”
“Around midnight.”
My mother’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”
The cop gave her a warning glance. “Did he indicate where he was going?”
I didn’t want to answer that question in front of my parents, but something told me that a lie would just make things worse. The cop was staring at me so intently, it was frightening. “Here,” I admitted in a low voice. “Danny came here.”
They were suddenly all shock and interest. “Danny was here last night?!” My mother gave a huge sigh of relief, and Dad smiled broadly.
I had no idea what was going on. I’d expected anger and shame, maybe a bit of yelling. Why did they look so pleased?
“So he’s here right now?” the cop said. He looked suddenly bored.
“No. He left before I woke up.”
“And did he say where he was going?”
I shrugged. “I was asleep. Have you asked Mr. Edelstein? Danny must have called him.”
My father shook his head. “His dad tried to reach him around twelve thirty, but it went straight to voicemail. So he waited up for him. Danny never came home.”
They all blamed me afterward for confusing the case. My mother said that I delayed the investigation by telling the police that Danny had been with me that morning. Because of my story, they didn’t file a missing person report until the following day, though they found his wrecked car on the side of the bridge later that afternoon. Danny’s phone was half-buried in slush next to the front wheel; his jacket was recovered from the lake a week later. The detectives eventually concluded that Danny went missing right after his last phone call to me. They insisted that he never crawled into my room, that I’d dreamed the whole thing.
I didn’t believe them at first. Can you smell and taste your dreams? I never have, and yet Danny’s last hug was so vivid and real; it was no more a dream than he was. He’d been there next to me; he’d tasted sweet and warm. He’d even left a trail of mud on my carpet to prove that he had been there.
Except when they searched my room, my rug was white and new, without a trace of dirt. The window that he’d crawled through was frozen shut; the icy branches he had climbed were covered in untouched snow. There was no sign of the boy who’d kissed me good night. There was nothing at a
ll to support my story.
So they came up with a theory based on the facts they had: Danny had indeed called me right after the accident. There is a record of a call beginning at 12:08 a.m. that lasted two minutes and forty-three seconds. He was sitting on the bent guardrail when he spoke to me. One glove, crusted in blood, was found hanging off a jagged piece of metal next to the wreck. After he hung up, Danny attempted to get down from the rail and slipped backward. The phone fell from his hands and slid beneath the car.
And he plummeted off the bridge, down into the icy lake below.
They were puzzled by the lack of a body. They knew where he had fallen in. Poor weather conditions and a delayed search notwithstanding, they should have been able to recover a body. Officer Braddock admitted that he couldn’t explain the fact that they had only found Danny’s jacket.
Rae and Deenie supported my faith that he would come back. My parents did too; the entire community banded together. They organized prayer vigils and baked a hundred casseroles, which Mr. Edelstein never ate. Dozens of volunteers braved the coldest winter Georgia had ever seen and set out on search expeditions around the scene of the accident.
Everyone believed Danny was coming back. For a week. Two weeks. Then three.
And then their faith slowly melted away with the snow.
Chapter 25
Mr. Edelstein is sitting next to me, holding a book. His eyes are fixed on the page, but his stare is immobile; I think he’s only pretending to read.
I don’t know where I am. There’s a beeping noise over my head and muffled voices just beyond the curtain surrounding us. I want to say something to let him know that I’m awake, but I’m afraid to disturb him. He looks so peaceful with the book in his lap.
I’m lying in a bed that isn’t mine. There’s a tube taped to my hand and a plastic wristband around my arm. I recognize the logo stamp on my blanket. Above me the beeping sound gets faster. Mr. Edelstein looks up from his book and smiles.
“Ellie. You’re awake.”
I’m afraid to speak. There’s something I needed to say to him, something I’d promised to tell him. But the cops got in the way at the last second, and I never got the chance.