I wander out to the living room after composing myself and take in the Christmas morning, striving to commit it to memory as best as I can although I feel as though a huge dark storm cloud hangs over this beautiful day. It snowed last night, but the sun is rising now. Its bright morning rays make the newly fallen snow sparkle under its casts, the front lawn illuminated like a thick blanket of glittery white fluff. Elly has the Christmas tree lit even with the rising sun shining through the window. We’d managed to get it set up Friday along with a few other decorations. School had been canceled due to the weather, allowing our winter break to begin early. Good thing too, I hadn’t gotten a lick of studying done.
Elly uncharacteristically had the day off that Friday – she has to work later today instead, but just a short shift she’s picked up for someone – so she was happier than necessary when the local news announced the school cancellations.
Elly hands over my usual oversized mug full of hot chocolate complete with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles – a tradition she’d started when I was little. Homemade cinnamon rolls will follow after we’ve unwrapped our presents. There isn’t much under the tree, so it won’t take long. I’ve always loved our simple Christmas mornings.
I’d snuck into town Saturday after the plow trucks made a thorough run through on the roads. I didn’t have much in the way of money, but I had enough to get her a watch she’d been eyeing at the local jewelry store. It’s nothing extravagant, as it could be both casual and dressy with its gold band and iridescent face. I also bought a few baubles for her stocking. Some new socks, a new paperback, and a small lump of coal I’d found as a gag-gift.
She hands me the first of three presents and rises to turn on some holiday music. I unwrap a pair of new headphones for my iPod as mine are worn out from many times of use. I always have to fiddle with the left ear piece to get it to work without sending static echoing through my ears. These are nice, much nicer than the stock ones that came with the iPod. The second is a large box of clothes; two pairs of jeans, a bright pink sweatshirt, and a couple of T-shirts that appear vintage in style, and some socks. I snort as I remember the socks I’ve shoved into her stocking as a present. The last, a small square box wrapped in shiny red paper with a gold bow. I smile after ripping the paper and see that it’s a velvety jewelry case from the same store I’d gotten her watch. Apparently we were thinking alike this year when purchasing gifts. When I lift the lid, a dainty, solid-gold bracelet lay inside – the kind that keeps its form – with a delicate inscription wrapping all the way around it:
When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on so long in the first place.
The script reminds me of his handwriting. But these are words of encouragement. I’ve heard the quote before, but can’t remember where. I spin the bracelet round and round, reading the words over and over again. Probably appropriate words for my life right now. I feel like giving up a lot lately.
“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately,” Elly says as if reading my thoughts. She kneels down beside me. “I can see that you’ve been trying to put on a brave face for everyone, myself included. I can see, too, that you’re still holding on with everything you have left even though that’s wearing thin. Just don’t forget why you’re hanging on so tight, because I’m sure there’s a reason behind it, even if you may not be sure as to what those reasons are yourself.”
Tears threaten their way into my eyes, but I manage to keep my composure. I blink hard and smile.
“Thanks, Mom. It’s really nice.”
“I’m glad you like it. Its fourteen karat gold, so you can wear it in the water if you like.”
“Perfect,” I say while placing it on my left wrist.
Elly kisses the top of my hair and heads toward the kitchen as the timer has started to buzz letting her know the cinnamon rolls are done. I trace over the inscription on my bracelet with the tip of my finger, wondering what he’s doing right now. It doesn't work to try and not think of him anymore. Not since I’d lost it. I have no clue why the fact of his upcoming birthday had hit me the way it did. It’s just a birthday, for crying out loud. People have them all the time. Why had the news of his derailed me so badly? Just another moment I’d planned on spending with him no doubt – another piece of happiness I’m being denied. No big deal.
The rest of the morning passes by uneventfully. Elly reads her new book in the recliner while I lounge on the floor with Abigail, sketching in my oversized sketch pad. Normally I would be busy with my daily routine, but today I don’t have anything normal to do. My room is spotless and my laundry done. My closet is organized like a department store, with the short sleeved tops hanging light to dark, followed with the long sleeved shirts in the same fashion, and next sweaters. Sock drawer is color coordinated as well. Sera hasn’t shown, but this doesn’t really surprise me – holidays are just another day to spirits on the Other Side. There’s no meaning to them anymore. Time actually passes at a much faster pace all together to them. Years pass in weeks, and months in days. It isn’t out of the ordinary for me to go without seeing Sera for days at a time lately – no doubt because of my awful attitude – although I know she’s always around.
“See you later tonight!” Elly shouts from the kitchen. I hadn’t realized it, but I’ve managed to doze off on the floor while trying to recreate the beauty of the fireplace and crackling fire. She’s off to work and so this leaves me alone for the remainder of the day. “Heat the oven to three-fifty. Put the meat in at three so it’s done later this evening when I get home.”
“Three – got it.” I repeat as I sit up.
I hear the door slam leading to the garage and then hear Elly’s car pulling out of the drive. The tires crunch against the untouched snow. I get up and decide to get a snack. The cinnamon roll I’d eaten for breakfast is wearing off and I’m feeling a little shaky from the lack of sugar in my system.
I grab an apple from the bowl on the counter and rinse it off meticulously under the sink water. I stand in front of the fridge trying to decide if I have enough ambition to make something other than peanut butter and jelly, or if I want to be really lazy and pop some popcorn in the microwave.
“Come with me, Breckin.” Sera says urgently from behind me.
I drop the half-eaten apple on the floor in surprise. I really hate it when she sneaks up on me like that.
“What, where?” I ask as I retrieve the piece of fruit from the floor. “Great, now it's got dog hair on it. Plech!” I make a face.
“Breckin, I’ve found him. You have to come with me. He doesn’t know he’s dead. You can help.”
“Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?” I’m trying to pick the Abby hair from my half-eaten apple, but quickly give up and toss it in the trash.
If it were possible for Sera to grab onto my hand and drag me, this is about the time she would be doing it.
“I don’t think it’s possible for me to lose my mind, and you have to come, now. You’ll need a sweater and your coat. A hat and scarf… mittens, too. Chop chop!”
“Do you mind telling me what you’re talking about before I go anywhere?”
“Hurry! Before he disappears!”
“Who? He, who?”
“Joseph!”
My head swirls to the mention of his name. The thought of the pain that consumes me every time he’s near is overwhelming. I haven’t seen him since that horrific day in my room – the day he stormed out of my house and my life.
“Why in the world would I want to go see him?”
“Please, just trust me.” Sera pleads.
“No,” I say firmly. “I trust you, but I’m not going anywhere near Joseph. I can’t. You should understand that.”
“Breckin, I know, but this may be your chance to be rid of him. Please,” she pleads again. “Trust me.”
“Do you think I'm masochistic? Hell no! I'm not going and you can't make me.” I say like a small child. I cross my arms stubbornly in front of my
chest, accentuating my point.
“Don't you want to be rid of him? Think about it. Maybe if you're rid of him, Liam will come back to you.”
I suck in a jagged breath and sink down in the middle of the floor.
“Why...?” I can't believe that Sera’s just said his name. She knows what it does to me. I close my eyes and bring my knees up to rest my forehead against them. Weaving my hands into my hair and counting each breath my lungs forcibly take, I shake my head. “I can't believe you.” I whisper.
Her tone turns soft. “I’m sorry, Breckin. But this is important. I just thought that maybe it’d give you the push you needed to go. And I swear to you, this will be the first step in ridding yourself of him. No more pain, no more agony.”
“Bring him to me if it’s so damned important,” I snap.
“I can’t. Breckin, this is something you have to do.”
“Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes. I’m fully aware.”
“You’re supposed to protect me, not lead me toward danger.”
“I am. I can’t tell you exactly why, but you have to do this.” Sera repeats.
I lift my head to eye her skeptically, but decide that I’ve never had reason not to trust Sera. The appeal of having never to see Joseph again is enough for me, so I suppose I could see him one last time and endure agonizing pain. Sure, what else have I got to do, I think as pure annoyance creeps over me. Who am I kidding? There’s nothing good about this situation. But there’s a tiny spark of hope trying to blossom. Maybe he will come back… No. I stop that thought right in its tracks. I mustn’t think like that.
“Just promise you won’t leave me,” I whisper. Am I really doing this? Oh, God, I’m really doing this.
“I promise.”
I get up from the floor and go to my room to locate my heavy boots that have been in the back of my closet. I grab the heaviest sweater I own and throw it on over my T-shirt. As I zip up my coat, Sera walks out of the hall closet, right through the door as if it doesn’t exist.
“Your hat and scarf are in here. I saw some mittens, too. They’re kind of outdated, but they’ll do.”
“Am I going to walk a runway?” I ask with heavy sarcasm. Sera gives me a look and Abigail whines anxiously as she comes to sit on top of my feet. “It’s okay, Abby,” I say as I scratch behind her ear. “Sera’s probably just overreacting. But I’m glad someone cares that I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t overreact. Now let’s go!”
“This better be worth it for pulling me out into the bitey-cold on Christmas day.”
“Oh.” Sera says as her face turns contemplative. “Merry Christmas. C’mon!”
Not only am I about to be faced with the man that is in part, responsible for ruining my life, but I am about to subject myself to an abundant amount of pain and for no good reason other than possibly being able to get rid of him. Something else about her expression makes me not want to go, though. There’s a slight tightness to Sera’s face that makes me wary, and the hesitation around her green eyes are worrisome.
I sit in my big Bronco, letting her heat up before I set off to make the drive to where ever Sera feels the need for me to go. She sits in the passenger seat, bouncing up and down with impatience.
“You don’t have to ride with me,” I point out. “You can go as you please.”
“Please, Breckin, I know. But I have to show you where you’re going. He's probably left now with the time you’ve wasted.”
“Good. Then I can go back inside and not subject myself to God-awful pain.”
“Don’t even think about it!”
I roll my eyes but shift the vehicle into reverse and let it slowly back down the drive. I barely put my foot on the gas so that I don’t give it any oomph. Sera rolls her eyes in return to my lolly-gagged pace, but I don’t care. I really don’t want to go any place, so I’m going slow on purpose.
“Which way,” I sigh as I come to the end of the driveway.
“Turn left.”
I do as she commands and drive silently. It’s clear that telling me where we’re going isn’t as important as getting me there. I take my time for fear of hitting any black ice that may still be covering the road, and too, because I’m letting a small part of my misery creep back up inside. I marvel at the trees, trying to distract myself. They’re covered with ice and the sun makes the branches sparkle like elongated crystals. There’s an Amish buggy coming toward us from the opposite direction. A big Clydesdale pulls a sleigh alongside the road with about five people perched inside. They look happy, carefree. I envy them.
“Turn left here,” she says, pointing to the next road.
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” I ask with real annoyance now.
“Just keep driving.”
“You’re beginning to bug me. What if I had big plans today?”
“Your mother is working and you were sitting home alone with your dog. I can’t imagine that you had much more planned with your day other than perching your sad, sorry butt in front of the television. Unless you were planning on using your new found OCD to do something like rearranging your spotless room.”
I raise my eyebrows to her tone and can’t hide the hurt on my face. I’m a little taken aback at how harsh she’s being. Sera’s never once treated me this way. Whatever it is that she thinks I have to do obviously has her on edge. It makes me worry as I realize just how riled up she is about it.
“Take the next right,” she commands.
I slow as I approach the next road. I’d been too lost in my daydreaming to pay attention to where we’re going. We’re headed further outside of town, traveling down private roads.
“Oak Tree Drive?” I ask skeptically.
“Just keep going,” she orders.
“You want me to drive down Oak Tree Drive? Are you kidding me?”
“It’ll be fine. A little trust, Breckin.”
“But my coach lives down Oak Tree Drive. Is that where we’re going? My coach’s house?” My voice begins to rise in octaves. This would explain the reason for Sera’s tight expression earlier. I’m beginning to hyperventilate. I have yet to take the turn heading me toward the Dawson’s house and I’m already having trouble with my air intake.
“You’ve never been affected by Joseph from this distance before. That’s strange.”
“You mean to tell me that you’ve dragged me out of my house, Christmas day, to drive over to the Dawson’s!” My voice isn’t far from a shriek. I manage to pull the vehicle over to the shoulder. I sit holding my chest, staring at the road sign above me. “I’m not having a panic attack because of Joseph. He…”, gulp, “Liam…” wince, “lives there!”
“I know,” Sera snaps impatiently. “I’m not sure, but I think that’s why he’s there – Joseph. He’s been looking for Liam. Oh, and bravo by the way. You haven’t said Liam's name in months.”
I wince again when she says his name, too.
“It’s because… I can’t… I can’t bear to say his name. Besides, I don’t care, I’m not going. This is ridiculous.”
“You will go, because you’ve already decided your path, and this is a part of that.”
“Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Breckin, don’t you want to put an end to this?” Sera asks after I sit stubbornly, still grasping at my chest. At least her voice has turned a little softer.
“End to what?” I pant. Tears begin to well over the rims of my eyes. “Liam already put an end to things. It's already over and has been for months now. Please don't make me do this, Sera.”
Sera shakes her head. “No, I’m talking about the situation with Joseph. Didn’t you listen to me before? He doesn’t know he’s dead, I think that’s why you feel his pain – although I’m not sure. Hmm. But Joseph still thinks he’s alive and I’m sure that you can help him realize.”
“Joseph is there? With Liam?”
She nods. “
He’s been following him around all day saying, please listen to me, please listen to me. But he won’t say what he wants Liam to hear.”
“Is… is… Liam okay?” I have to ask. I know what it does to Liam when Joseph is near him, so I instantly become worried. Sure, it isn’t close to the reaction I have when I come into contact with Joseph, but Liam becomes so overtaken with sadness and guilt that it breaks my heart just thinking about it.
“He’s fine. Every once and awhile he allows his composed features to slip, showing signs that he can sense Joseph is there. But there is a lot going on, lots of distractions.”
That day at school flashes through my head – the day I’d first been attacked by Joseph's presence. Before I’d seen him standing behind Liam’s locker I noticed that Liam's face had become pained and sad, showing that he obviously felt his presence. I’m unsure if Liam has discovered this yet however; that he can feel Joseph as well as Evie's ghost.
“What do you mean by distractions?” The way Sera says the word makes me leery.
“Never mind that, Breckin. We have to go, you're wasting time. So start driving.”
I shake my head. “There has to be another way. Why do I have to go to Coach Dawson’s house today? Why can’t I do it another day? How am I to explain myself? Sera, it’s Christmas!”
Sera continues to stare at me with meaningful eyes. It’s clear that this is something that needs to be done in her opinion. I suck in a few deep breaths, blowing each one out slowly, hoping to calm my racing heart. You can do this, I tell myself. You will do it – for Liam. I put the Bronco back into gear and hesitantly drive forward, making the turn on to Oak Tree Drive as I shake my head.
Hollow Sight Page 37
