Jump When Ready

by David Pandolfe

  “Where are we? Why did you just do that?”

  “Trying to save you from yourself,” Curtis said. “Not to mention your family.”

  “You don’t know anything about me or my family. I need to get back to them. They need me!”

  “Not going to happen. Sorry.” Curtis turned his back and started walking across the field.

  “Stop!”

  Curtis kept walking.

  “Turn around!”

  Curtis stopped and slowly turned to face me. While I expected to see the smirk I’d come to know, instead he seemed sad.

  “Or what?”

  He was right. There was nothing I could do. “Take me back. I need to help my family!”

  “Which is exactly why you’re not going back.” Curtis looked up and spoke to the night sky. “Are we good, Martha?”

  I looked up too, half-expecting Martha to be hovering above us, but she wasn’t there. How was it possible that Curtis was talking to her and what did she have to do with what was going on? She’d promised to help me but this wasn’t helping at all.

  Only a second passed before Curtis closed his eyes and nodded. “Okay, we can talk about that. But enough for now?”

  I had just started walking toward Curtis when he suddenly vanished. I looked in every direction, hoping it had to be some sort of joke. “Curtis, get back here! Please!”

  I spun in circles, searching the sky. I staggered back and forth. Then I stopped and looked around again, realizing I still I had no idea where I was. I felt panic rising inside me and all I could think about was getting back home. I told myself everything would work out somehow if I could just get back there again. I desperately willed myself to return but nothing happened.

  Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by weakness and exhaustion. I hadn’t slept for days and I told myself that was probably it. At the same time, I felt more than just tired. Now that I was no longer inside my old home it felt like I’d lost part of myself. I had to get back there but that door was now closed. I felt tears rise to my eyes and dropped to my knees, holding my face in my hands.

  “Home,” I whispered. “I need to get back home.”

  But I went nowhere. Finally, I collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball. Within moments, I drifted into darkness.

  ~~~

  I don’t know how long I was out but eventually I felt light against my eyelids. I tried to ignore it but after a while I sat up, blinking against the brightness of the morning. I saw a field of dewy grass and the play structure. I saw streets and buildings not too far off. I still had no idea where I was and for a few moments couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. Then the night came back to me. My mind felt fuzzy, feverish, and I barely remember when I started walking.

  Before long, I wandered down the main street of a town I’d never seen before. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone as when I walked that street at daybreak. I walked past closed shops and dark restaurants. I saw and heard no one. I stood on a street corner, looking at the empty buildings, not even seeing my own reflection in any of the windows. I wondered if anyone would ever see me again or if being Banished meant even more than I’d thought. Could it mean remaining totally invisible, forgotten and lost forever?

  A dog barked and I looked to see that I wasn’t totally alone. A man lay sleeping on a bus stop bench, and beneath the bench a black lab looked directly at me. She seemed like she might be kind of old, with gray hairs speckling her muzzle.

  The dog barked again and the man opened his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked in the same direction as his dog, right at me. He didn’t see me, of course, but I could tell the dog did. For the record, it’s true what they say about dogs, they can see the “nonliving.” It felt so great in that moment knowing I was at least visible to her.

  “What the heck are you going on about, Bella?” the man said.

  I held out my hand and Bella came over. “Just lost, girl,” I whispered. “Hungry too.”

  Bella could relate to that. She cocked her head, looked at me again, then trotted back over to her owner.

  The man groaned and got to his feet. He started off down the road. “Come on, girl.”

  Bella looked my way again one last time. “Woof,” she said.

  “Woof,” I said back to her. Maybe it was my imagination, but she seemed kind of sad to say goodbye.

  Then I was alone again, still weak and tired. I took the bench, curled up and closed my eyes, one lost soul taking the place of another as the sun continued to rise.

  ~~~

  It seemed like minutes later that someone nudged my shoulder. I felt myself starting to smile even though I knew I had to be dreaming. You have no idea how much it means that someone can see or touch you. You just take it for granted—or you might even get annoyed about it sometimes. What are you looking at? Give me some space, okay? That’s easy to say when you’re among your own kind. But I had remained totally invisible, basically nonexistent, for days except for one encounter with Curtis. Well, okay, and with Bella.

  A second passed before I felt another nudge. Then I heard Naomi’s voice. “Henry? Can you hear me?”

  Then I heard Simon too. “He looks bad.”

  Both of them sounded far off, like I was underwater. Once again, I was reminded of times in the past when I’d had a high fever. As much as I wanted to see Naomi and Simon again, I wanted to sleep more. In my dreams, I’d been back in my old house watching over my father, mother and brother.

  “Henry? Curtis told us we could find you here,” Naomi said. “Are you okay? Please nod if you can hear me?”

  I was already drifting away again.

  From what seemed like a million miles away I heard Simon say, “This is bad. We may have lost him. Henry, old mate, wake up. Come on, Henry, wake up!”

  “Oh, no,” Naomi said. “Do you think he’s really ghosting out? This is scary—what should we do?”

  “I’m not sure,” Simon said. “Henry, it’s us! Come on, Henry, can you hear us? How about Hank? Does anyone call you Hank? Listen, it’s us—Simon and Naomi.”

  My eyelids fluttered open. I totally hated being called Hank. Not that I’d ever loved being a Henry all that much, but Hank was even more like the name of some old farmer from Kansas back in the 1800s. Not to mention that it rhymed with skank.

  “What do you know? I think I may have touched a nerve,” Simon said. “Looks like our boy is still kicking. Hank, can you hear me? Or how about Hanskter—that has kind of nice ring to it. What do you think—shall we go with the Hankster?”

  I looked up at the two of them. Part of me wanted to smile, part of me wanted to smack Simon, but most of me wanted to drift off again. I gave in to that feeling and let my eyes start to close.

  Naomi leaned in over me. “Henry, are you hungry? Mmm, I think I smell pizza. Or was that a big juicy cheeseburger? How do you feel about going to the food court? I know I’d love going there right now. How about you, Simon?”

  “A plate of fish and chips sounds great,” Simon said. “You know, I wouldn’t mind some tacos too.”

  He pronounced it like “tack-os,” which, for some reason, I found kind of irritating. I opened my eyes again. “It’s not tack-os,” I said. “It’s tacos.”

  “To each his own,” Simon said.

  “No, seriously, it’s tacos,” I said.

  That time, I managed to keep my eyes open. You wouldn’t think dead people get hungry but, strangely, we do. I’d been drooling each time my brother stuffed his face all week long.

  Simon kept at me. “Tacos, tack-os. You say potato, I say potahto.”

  Naomi giggled. “Oh, my parents loved that song—I think it was from the 1940s!” She started singing. “You like potato, I like potahto. You like tomato, I like tomahto.”

  “So, let’s call the whole thing off!” Simon crooned, his voice rising.

  Finally, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him. “You really can be annoying some—”

  “Now?”
Naomi said.

  “Definitely,” Simon said.

  They reached down, grabbed me by the arms, and off I went again. For the record, this mode of forced travel was definitely getting on my nerves.

  ~~~

  I still felt weak when we got back to Halfway House but things gradually began to come into focus again. Simon and Naomi hadn’t been lying about being hungry either. The three of us pigged out in the food court and with each bite I felt a little more strength return. But I think it had way more to do with me being back there again than eating.

  After a while, Naomi said, “Martha told us you were trying to help your sister. Is she okay now?”

  Simon glanced over at Naomi, then made direct eye contact with me. “Martha said your sister got lost in the mountains.”

  By the way he said it, I understood. Martha had told Naomi a more kid-friendly version of the story. I turned to Naomi. “My sister’s not okay yet. We’re still trying to help her get home,” I said. “Jamie and Nikki are with her now.”

  “Oh, good,” Naomi said. “So, she must be in the mountains near that town where we found you?”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. “Hang on,” I said. “Where was that town?”

  Simon and Naomi exchanged glances.

  “Mate, you were seriously ghosting out,” Simon said. “Not to worry. You seem to be doing fine now. Anyway, the town is called Trent—it’s at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. In Virginia. Isn’t that where you’re from?”

  “Um, no,” I said, “I mean, I’m from Virginia but not that part.”

  It took a minute for the information to settle in, but this was good news! If that town was near the same mountains where Will and Karen had taken Bethany, then maybe Curtis had been trying to tell me something. It not only meant there was a town full of people close to where they were keeping Bethany but also that she wasn’t so far from home either. We’d driven out to the Blue Ridge to see the fall colors a few times as a family, so I kind of knew where it was. I realized now why I’d thought I’d seen the mountain range before—because I had. And maybe I was kidding myself, but it felt good knowing she wasn’t someplace totally unfamiliar.

  I got to my feet. “Good idea getting some food but I should get back to my sister.”

  “You might want to take it easy.” Simon said. “You were pretty out of it.”

  Simon was right—I did feel kind of dizzy. “What the heck is going on with me? Am I sick or something?”

  “You might say that you were,” Martha said from the doorway. “In a sense, you were closer to dying than when you drowned.”

  Martha was casually dressed, as always, in faded jeans and an old sweatshirt. But her hair wasn’t tied back and I had the feeling she might have rushed over. If so, her expression gave nothing away.

  She smiled at the three of us. “Henry, I was wondering if you might have a few minutes for us to talk.”

  I looked at Simon and Naomi trying to gauge if I was in some sort of trouble. Simon stared at his third plate of food as if considering whether to stop. Naomi rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, whistling silently.

  “Why don’t we take a walk outside?” Martha said. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  I thought about reminding her that the weather had been perfect since they’d convinced me to abandon my rainforest. But she knew that, of course, so I got up from the table to join her.

  Once we were outside, we started walking down the street, past the other houses and yards. As always, I heard the sounds of other kids playing and laughing. I heard the cars and music, just as I had the day we’d arrived here following my funeral. But, as usual, I still didn’t see anyone else.

  As if she’d read my mind earlier, Martha asked, “Would you like some rain or clouds? I’m fine with either. To be honest, I tend to prefer a slightly more unpredictable environment when on my own.”

  I thought back to that visit to her room—the snowcapped mountains outside her windows and the massive white birds swooping past.

  “Actually, rain sounds kind of good,” I said. “Maybe just a little.”

  “You’re old for your age. Very few young people can appreciate the beauty found in shades of gray.” Even as Martha said it, the sky started to darken. Clouds rolled in slowly past the sun and a drop of rain hit my forehead. A few more would follow, I knew, but it wouldn’t pour. Drizzle weather.

  “I guess you must wonder about the sounds you hear in your neighborhood. And why you never see who’s making those sounds.”

  Martha was definitely on her game today. “I’ve been curious about that,” I said.

  “There are children here,” Martha said. “They make the most noise when they play. Such a lovely sound. Of course, the teenagers drive the cars and listen to music. Slightly different levels of experience but you all wanted to be close to each other since none of you had truly grown up yet.”

  I looked over at Martha as we now walked a path that had at some point replaced the street. There was a field around us now, the neighborhood gone. I hadn’t even noticed when that had happened but I just figured that’s what Martha wanted to be around in that moment.

  “What do you mean when you say we wanted to be near each other?” I said.

  “Not consciously, of course. But you knew where you needed to be. Childhood was, and still is, a large part of your world.”

  As a teenager, I wasn’t sure I was on board for that one. At the same time, I’d died when I was only fourteen. So, wouldn’t I remain basically a kid? I wasn’t sure.

  “Why don’t we ever see them?”

  Martha’s eyes met mine. “Well, they don’t see you either. Still, they know you’re nearby.”

  “Why am I with the kids I’ve met here?”

  Martha looked up at the clouds. “I’m sorry, there’s only so much I’m allowed to tell you.” Suddenly, she laughed. “Believe me, it’s a long chain of command and I’m nowhere near the top. But there are reasons why people are placed together. Just like in life, people share similar interests and abilities. So, they gravitate toward each other.”

  A drop of rain hit my nose and I brushed it off. “Did you choose to be with us?”

  Martha nodded. “I did. I’ve been at this for a while and it was decided I’d be right for your group. I’m sure we’ll talk about that more someday. But, yes, I chose to help you prepare.”

  “For the next life?”

  Martha thought for a moment. “Usually, that’s the case. Although sometimes we choose to remain here for a while. In Service. It’s entirely up to you. There are all kinds of choices to be made, when you’re ready. Some people choose an entirely new experience. Others choose to meet up with those they knew and loved before. That can last quite a long time. An eternity, so to speak.”

  “But not forever,” I said.

  “Nothing lasts forever—except consciousness, of course. That spark, that gift. The soul, if you will.”

  I thought about what she’d just said. “So, you’re saying we never really die,” I said. “We just keep changing.”

  Martha laughed again. “Exactly! Energy is energy. Life is life. It just shifts around and takes different forms. You’re right, it never dies. It can’t. But you know that somehow, don’t you? You really are an old soul.”

  An old soul. Even though I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I couldn’t help feel kind of proud, like I’d at least momentarily gained the respect of an experienced teacher.

  “On the other hand, sometimes we fall into traps,” Martha said. “Bad places we can’t get out of again.”

  “Are we talking about hell again?”

  Another drop of rain hit me, this time tapping the side of my face. Birds flew toward the trees, returning to their nests. The leaves showed their shiny, silver sides in the breeze.

  “Not exactly, but something not too far off.” Martha raised her face to the sky. “This is nice. I haven’t thought to ask for rain lately. Maybe later it could really sto
rm and I’ll light a fire and read. I’m sorry—back to what we were discussing. Remember when we talked about people getting trapped because of sadness, or longing, or attachment? It weakens them and they can’t move on again. Once it gets bad enough, no one can help these souls because they refuse to be helped. This too can last for something like an eternity.”

  The moment of Curtis’s intervention flashed back at me. How all I’d cared about was getting back home again. My walk into town when I’d felt so lost and weak. What Naomi and Simon had said about me “ghosting out.”

  “That was the fever I felt, wasn’t it? Is that what you meant when you said I was in more danger than when I drowned?”

  What Martha had said confused me before, but now it made sense. A chill rippled up my spine that had nothing to do with the weather.

  “By comparison,” Martha said, “dying is nothing compared to remaining dead.”

  “Did you send Curtis?”

  “I can’t send anyone. I don’t have that power. I can only ask.”

  “But why did he come?”

  “Curtis made that choice for reasons of his own. I’m afraid I can’t share his reasons, at least not yet. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Sure. Of course.”

  Martha pointed straight ahead. “Well, we’re almost back again. Good thing, since I think the rain is picking up a bit.”

  I had another question that I needed to ask. “Did you Banish me?”

  Martha closed her eyes, nodded, then looked at me again. “I did. That power, I have, at least for the time being. It’s not a responsibility I exercise lightly. It requires a great deal of deliberation.”

  In that moment, I felt the weight of her decision. Both my sadness and her own, as well as what it meant—that more than likely I would never see my parents or brother again.