3

by Shera Eitel-Casey

  That week we had a swim meet. I was glad for the distraction for something to do. It was quite comforting knowing I could swim and be able to go to swim parties and other such water events and not worry. I’m always very comfortable in the water. It's like walking or breathing air to me. When my parents saw how bruised up I was I had to lie and tell them it was from the roller rink. At times at the roller rink we would all hold hands, skate around rink as fast as we could and then let go of the person on then end. I have gotten bruised up from it before. However, when eighth grade ended so did our trips to the roller rink, not that my parents knew that though.

  Today was my first swim meet of the year, I have never been a great swimmer, just average, but I enjoyed it. We missed our first three swim meets because of our '1981 Gellar Family Extravaganza’; you know the one with the shiny pay phones. After the third swim meet, everyone gets placed in the lanes by how they’ve won in the previous meets. Megan was a nice girl on the team, usually an average swimmer just like me. Today, however, she got the middle lane; everyone was bragging how well she did at the first three meets and that she took first place in breast stroke all three times. The best swimmers are always in the middle, there are six lanes and every other lane is someone from the opposing team. She was the one to beat.

  For the fifty meter breast stroke race I was in the outer lane right next to the wall, the norm for me. I was very determined to win, or to do well, when I finished I tagged the side of the pool and looked to my right and saw no one. I had a memory flash back of the first race I was in when I was four. Some memories fade after time, but some stick with you like they were yesterday no matter how much time goes by. I started swim team after that, it's an amusing story how my first swim race went.

  On a normal day we would usually leave the pool around three or four in the afternoon but this time we had stayed to watch the swim meet. Just one random summer night my mom had decided to stay late. She was still a lifeguard and swim teacher at the time. In the six and under group they only had three swimmers and six lanes, one swimmer was on our team and the other two were from the opposing team. So they needed another person and because I could swim all the strokes my mom volunteered me.

  Of course, every kid always says “yes” when asked if they want to swim, I was no dummy, I said yes too. They asked me if I knew how to dive, “oh yes” I said “I can”. So they told me when the gun goes off dive into the water, swim as fast as you can "freestyle" to the other end of the pool and stay in your lane. The lanes were lined with floating guides, it looked easy enough. I was still small and someone had to help me up on the starting block but up I went. There wasn’t enough time to be nervous. I was watching one minute and then the next I was on the starter block.

  The referee said “Take your marks”, I didn’t move, “Get set”, “POP” went the cap gun. I shook at startling noise but then I jumped into the water doing the most horrid looking dive, I guess you couldn't even call it that. It was more of a jump smack dive combo I was told. I came up and took a deep breath and I started swimming as fast as I could. I didn’t look around, just like they told me, I just swam and swam and swam. I swam my heart out! I got to the other end of the pool! I looked up and saw no other swimmers I must have beat everyone! Leaning on the edge of the pool I said “I won, I won!” I couldn't make out what everyone was doing outside the pool, they were holding their stomachs and their faces were red, some were jumping up and down, they were laughing and cheering. Coach pulled me out of the water and wrapped a towel around me and gave me a big hug. He held me up under my legs cheering with his other arm.

  So of course I asked “Did I win?” and another roar of laughter washed through the crowd. I never saw my mom laugh so hard before, she wiped her eyes and said “Oh, no honey.” I heard chuckle, chuckle. “You came in dead last! You came in about two minutes behind everyone else!” Another roar of laughter came about. I remember it very clearly; some memories just really stick with you. That was the day my sister and I were signed up for swim team. My mom, of course, was harassed for the way I swam, I guess I swam like a wiggle worm; my butt was going side to side. Even her boss gave her a hard time about it because she was one of the pools swim teachers. However, it didn't take her long to straighten me out.

  As soon as I tuned back into reality, I heard the clapping and turned around again to see the rest of the swimmers starting to come in. I had finally won and by a lot!

  My next swim meet was the same, but I won in freestyle and breast stroke. It kept happening all summer. From then on out I swam in all the relays and all the swim strokes, breast stroke, freestyle, backstroke and eventually butterfly. It's funny how everyone wants to be your friend when you're winning. That was okay though, I already knew who my real friends were.

  I guess I didn’t have to write this dream down anymore because for the past couple of weeks, I kept having the same dream of the girl and guy in the field. Better than the nightmares I was having of Logan and his eyes that were very unnerving, why couldn't I have dreamt about that before it happened? In any case, both dreams are haunting me. I wake up at exactly 3:17a.m. every time I have a dream about the guy and girl in the field. Instead of writing down the whole dream, I only jot down the new details I remember. Like one new detail I noticed, the girl had a silver bracelet that glistened in the sun before the attack but not after. Normally, or at least what I thought was normal, once I recorded my dream I wouldn't have it again, but not this one. Normal, what's normal, normal is probably having dreams that don't come true. I guess I don't know what normal is for me, I hope this one doesn't come true.

  CHAPTER 2

  My sister and I were freshman and slated to graduate 1985. I was the youngest one in our class; I'll be the last one to turn fifteen in November. When I arrived at school on the first day, I was feeling very young and confused. As I walked to my locker which was near the front entrance and Nic’s locker I noticed a ton of students piling out the front door. Why was everyone leaving school? Did I come on the wrong day? Did the fire alarm go off? Am I awake? No, couldn't be the wrong day, buses picked us up and everyone else is here; maybe it's another practice day. I paused in the hall to notice they were all crossing the street to a church across the road. Another freshman stopped by my side and asked me “What’s up?” I replied “I have no idea.” I looked around me and needless to say it looked like all us freshman were pretty much clueless to what was going on. It seemed like all the older kids were going to church. Do all the juniors and seniors go to mass the first day of school, or before school, do they have religion classes over there? I had no clue what was going on.

  I felt Nic come up beside me, she asked me what was going on and I of course gave her my ‘I don’t know’ explanation, but rambled off all the possibilities including the fact that maybe we were still sleeping. So, of course, and I should have expected it, she pinched me. I let out a loud “Ow!”

  “Nope.” she said “You're awake.”

  Storm breezed by us and grabbed one of each of our hands and said lets go. “Wait” I said as Nic and I tossed our books in my locker and slammed it shut. He gave us a tug and led us into the mass of people that went out the doors and across the street into the very crowded church. The people were so thick it felt like we were being herded like cattle. I squeezed Storm’s hand so he wouldn’t let go and he squeezed my hand back.

  We entered the church through very large wooden double doors that were propped open. It was a very basic one room church but very pretty. They used huge wood rafters and supports all along the ceiling and behind the altar were large stained glass windows. It was a beautiful church; all the pews were classic wood and all the side windows were stained glass as well. Storm found us this niche near the back of the church, he sort of led the two of us so we were in front and he was behind us. Nic tilted her head sideways to look at us and asked “What’s going on? Are we supposed to be here?”

  “Just wait” he said.

  Students were sti
ll coming in the doors; I caught a glimpse of a coffin in front of the church and I instantly got nervous. Excitedly I blathered softly “Why are we at a funeral and whose is it? Do you know that person? I am so sorry Storm, are you okay?” I could hear Nic mumbling a couple of questions too.

  He half laughed and smiled at us “Could you two be a little patient, let’s just wait until everything settles down a bit.” There were rows upon rows of pews that spanned the length of the church. Right then he took our hands and swooped us in the last row of seats and sat between us. Students got settled in and almost simultaneously everyone sat. You could see the minister at the lectern trying to get the microphone to work, everyone got really quiet, the sounds were down to a murmur. Storm brought us in closer to him, so close I felt like I was sitting on top of him and sure enough more students scooted in our pew. There was standing room only. I couldn’t help notice some of the students were crying and the mood was very somber.

  I felt the warmth and the aura of the room envelop me immediately and then a slight breeze from the doors propped open behind us. It smelled of wood and candles; none of the beautiful stained glass windows looked like they opened. I noticed sunlight shining in the front behind the Reverend and casket, coming from what looked like another door around the corner. I could only hope the breeze would continue. Storm began to tell us the girls name in the coffin was Jewel. She was supposed to be a senior this year and that both his brothers knew her. “The investigation isn’t over but there was definitely foul play and they’re saying she was murdered. They aren’t letting out any details on what happened, but my brothers said she was dating some guy but nobody knew who. After dating him for a couple of months she was looking very ashen and had circles under her eyes like she was starving herself. Her parents were really worried about her and rightly so. The boyfriend can’t be found, it looks like he took off, they think out of state.”

  As soon as I heard the word murder everything Storm said started to sound further and further away, like I was in a tunnel, I felt my face get even hotter and I flashed on “his” face, my heart began to race and I pictured myself in the coffin. I told myself, think of something else something positive – I looked right into Storm’s eyes and he looked at me quizzically scrunching his eyebrows together. Why was he looking at me that way? Probably because my face was red and hot, my eyes were welling up, but it was hot in here and it was a wake. But realized I had a death grip on his hand. I tried to relax and tried getting Logan out of my head.

  He leaned over, although he didn’t have very far to lean because we were sitting so close. I tried to focus everything I had on Storm, but that “guy” that “leach” was there on top of me again. Storm whispered “Breathe” and I took a deep breath. Storm was looking straight ahead and I just stared at him, I thought of our long conversations on the phone the year before when we had sort of dated briefly, well we had one sort of date. I didn’t appreciate him then, but I was appreciating him now. I was remembering how he kept checking up on me at the roller rink, which at the time I found annoying, I thought he was being intrusive but now I could see it was just because he cared for me. The last day of school last year was the last time I talked to him and told him “I guess the next time we'll see each other we'll be freshman.” He just agreed with me and we went on our separate ways. I was right, our paths never crossed and he never called, I didn't call him either.

  Storm was on the wrestling team back then and Nic and I were wrestling managers. He was very skinny and gawky looking then but he didn't look that way anymore.

  I was breathing more normally and I was having visions of Storm holding me instead of that dreadful moment in my life that was defining me. I leaned right back into Storm’s ear and whispered “Sorry.” He looked back at me and asked “What for?” I replied “For being difficult and acting all weird. I'm nervous; I've only been to one other wake.” He turned his head looking at me scrunching his brow. Then relaxed them and said “No problem” like he hadn’t even thought about it twice.

  I hadn’t a clue on how to act, what to say or ask; Nic looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and pushed the corner of her lips downward, I did the same. Storm began “On another note, she isn’t the first one to die in this school of something suspicious.” We both looked at him, questioningly. He responded “My Uncle's a cop.” Nic and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders again. That explained a lot.

  Storm was holding our hands and I wasn’t about to let go, it was nice; it made me feel like all three of us had a connection. Plus, I’m glad Nic and I were with Storm, he needed a friend. As the minister finished his sermon, I heard him mumble something about last respects when passing by the casket..... That’s all I heard. The students in the first three rows stood up and made a single file line that went to the casket and ended at the pew, just like when you went to take communion, except they emptied the pew to the right instead of the middle aisle and made a line. As students passed by the casket to pay their respects you could hear some crying and sniffling going on. We were in the last row on the right side. I was hoping we would high tail it out since we were so close to the doors, none of us knew her personally so I was thinking we didn't need to pay last respects especially to someone we didn’t know.

  I nudged Storm and nodded my head toward the door and he shook his head with his eyebrows rumpled. That’s when I noticed a guy sneaking out the back door. Storm must have been worried about me because he took my hand and put his arm under my elbow and then re-gripped my hand and whispered “Are you okay?” I nodded. It wasn’t my first wake it was my second but when I passed by my first dead body, my Grandmother's, it was different. I knew her and when I saw her I actually saw her peaceful and asleep. Before she died she was miserable and in pain. Then I saw her in peace, it was different.

  That's where I got my name, from my Grandmother, her name was Adele too. We both hated it, but after she passed the name grew on me because I was reminded of her simply by saying my name. My grandmother used to smoke and sew and even though she was stubborn and bossy, I loved her. Yes, she had lung cancer. My mother and she quit smoking cold turkey the day they found out she had it. I thought I hated shopping with her on Saturdays and helping her cut patterns out all day, but after a while it was actually okay with me, and now, I missed it, I missed her. She used to take us to a candy store and they only sold it by the box, making it super cool, that was before the big bulk stores existed.

  Plus, we used to go to this Lithuanian Deli; they had great lunch meat, fresh polish sausage and the best bacon buns on earth. That's where Tori and I got the saying “Two are better than one.” My Grandma used to tell us that when we fought, and we used to fight all the time, that we needed to stick together. She had us go outside once and collect three sticks. She told us to try breaking one, pretty easy right. Next she had us try and break two sticks, not as easy right...she told us. “Two are better than one.” So Tori and I were always trying to use that saying around my grandmother. She found it humorous.

  I'm glad I can get my mind to focus on other topics easily. Since we were in the last row we would be the last students to view the casket and last ones back to class. I'm sure that’s why Storm picked these seats. When we stood up I was first out of the pew and Storm leaned into me and I could feel him smell my hair “You smell good.” I turned to him and gave him a look. “Are you flirting with me?” I saw him give me a half smile out of the corner of my eye but he didn’t say anything. I whispered “We're at a wake!”

  Storm had sandy brown wavy hair, a prominent jaw line and the most piercing green eyes I've ever seen, and now that I was paying attention, a very sexy smile. When Storm looked at you it was like he was looking into your soul, but knowing him he wasn't. When we first dated he was skinny, had braces and was the same height as me. Now he was taller and filled out a little more with bright straight pearly whites. My mom used to tell us we were too young go steady and have serious feelings about anyone back then. She also sa
id we were too dramatic and I think she was right. Sally liked Tom, but Tom liked Megan, and so on.

  Although, Storm and I kissed a couple of times, it was first time kissing for the two of us so they were only soft tender kisses, nothing more; just innocent and sweet. We used to call each other on the phone and stay on it for what seemed like forever while never saying all that much. And that was it to our relationship, it ended because school ended and I guess I never called him because I wanted someone who knew how to really kiss, seeing I was a novice myself.

  I remember my neighbor Gus asking me why I broke it off with Storm last year and I told him that I didn't, school just ended. “Why else did you end it?” he asked. I thought he was asking because he was curious and maybe for future reference, so I told him about the kissing thing. You know he told me I should have told Storm what I thought about the kissing thing. I was appalled! I thought it was ludicrous to have to talk to him about it. Then Gus asked me if I wanted to practice, and I was flabbergasted by the things coming out of his mouth, but then we did a couple of times later that summer – he was a good kisser. Maybe he was right, maybe I should have said something.

  I started walking slowly and followed the line of students. I gripped Storm's hand a little firmer pulling him into me and I felt Nic bump into Storm, a little chain reaction. My hands were becoming clammy. Since I’ve only been to the one wake before I was hoping I wouldn’t cry. I wondered how Nic was doing. I wish she was in front of me. The line moved slowly and we were all very close together, mostly because of me. As we kept inching closer I was getting more and more nervous and kept pulling Storm closer to me with Nic in tow.