“Just look around.”
“You’re gonna have to explain it to me. I’m new to the whole fortune-cookie magic thing.”
“I don’t know. I can’t describe it. It’s just a feeling you get. The more you get fortune cookies, the more you understand. Certain places just have this vibe and other places don’t. What kind of fortunes have you gotten here before?”
“I throw mine away.” Luke coughs and looks at his placemat.
“That’s like throwing away the clues to life.” I shake my head. Luke looks at me with a raised eyebrow and we both start to grin.
“C-18?”
I raise my hand and the man from the register sets a tray down in front of me and another in front of Luke. Each of us has a fortune cookie placed carefully in the corner of the tray.
“They’ll be good fortunes. I can always tell.”
“Okay, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” Luke reaches for his fortune and I slap it out of his hand.
“Not yet!”
“Why not? You’ve been talking about these cookies the whole way over here.”
“But you have to open it at the right time! You have to eat your food first. The fortune cookie always comes at the end. You have to follow the proper order of things!”
“Great, so now there’s a proper fortune-cookie-opening ritual?”
“Anything worth doing is worth doing well.” I stick out my tongue before ignoring Luke and starting to eat my food. It’s good, spicy enough to make my eyes water. That’s another good sign. The spicier the food, the better the fortune. That one’s not actually true, but it’s my game, so I don’t have to keep track of all the rules.
“What happens if you get a better fortune than me?”
“Won’t happen,” I mumble through a mouthful of rice.
“How do you know?”
“You get the fortune you need. The cookie knows.”
“Oh, my god. You did not just say that.”
“Say what?” I’m still more interested in my rice than the conversation. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning, which is funny because I never thought I’d eat Chinese food again… at least not any time soon.
“The cookie knows? Seriously?” Luke starts laughing and I’m worried he might choke. “The cookie knows?” He’s still laughing. It’s one of those laughs you can’t stop. He’ll just have to wait it out until it stops. Those kinds of laughs are always contagious, no matter what the situation. I make sure to swallow my food before it hits me.
The cookie knows.
Yeah. It’s pretty funny.
After we both stop laughing I go back to my food. Luke eats too, but every time I look up at him he starts to snicker. It doesn’t take long before it’s finally time for the moment of truth. I just hope the fortune cookie lives up to everything I’ve said it will.
“You go first. I wanna see how this magic works. It’s not one of those ‘you can’t tell your fortune or it won’t come true’ things, is it?”
“Nope. Sometimes telling people helps it come true even faster.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Well, here we go.” I’ve never been nervous opening a fortune cookie before, but there seem to be so many things riding on this fortune. Not just Luke’s belief in the whole thing, but my big message, the thing I have one day and a few hours left to figure out. I crack the cookie in half and toss the pieces into my trash pile on the tray. The little thin white strip just looks so comforting. It has to be this. It just has to be.
I turn the slip of paper over and my heart drops. I refuse to cry, especially in front of Luke. I can’t let him see how seriously I take all this. I guess I just thought the universe, or God, or whatever it is that controls the world owed me one. I mean, it just seems like something good has to come from life. Otherwise, what’s the point?
“What’s the universe telling you?”
I must be doing a better job covering up my disappointment than I thought, because Luke doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong. I’m the one with the fortune cookie dogma. I should be able to get something out of this. I’ll probably just have to eat my words. Luke will laugh, and then it’ll be over. I just wanted that miracle so badly.
I hold up the little slip of paper and clear my throat, hoping that will somehow help me make light of the situation.
“Some koi fish are red.” I manage to say it like I think it’s the most profound thing in the world. Luke doesn’t laugh as hard as I thought he would.
“That’s your profound, prophetic fortune? Koi fish are red?”
“Only some.” I try to look smug, like I know it has some great secret meaning only I understand. In reality the few pieces of my heart that had finally started to heal are falling apart again.
“Okay, sure.” Luke sounds about as doubtful as I feel. “Well, maybe you didn’t really need the fortune. Like how you said you only get a real fortune when you need one. Like Santa or the tooth fairy.” He mutters the last part under his breath, but he’s smiling the whole time.
“Yeah. That’s right.” I’m not convinced. If I ever needed a fortune it is tonight. “What’s yours?”
Luke grabs his cookie and breaks it open, tossing it on my trash pile. “You will be happy when you learn to be happy.” Luke frowns. “What a load of bullshit.”
He believes it. I can always tell a fortune cookie convert when they get seriously angry at their fortune. That’s how you know it’s telling them something they don’t want to hear. I’m glad it worked for someone. That helps restore my faith just a little.
“That doesn’t sound too bad. You’re gonna be happy.”
“Yeah, like I’m the thing that’s making me unhappy now.”
“Well…” I trail off. I don’t know him well enough to try and make a point.
“You think I’m making myself unhappy?”
It’s a genuine question; he’s not angry. I’m not sure how to respond.
“You said “That Place” can do weird things to people. Maybe you’re getting trapped in your dad’s world or something.” I try to gauge how upset Luke is. I still need a ride back to my car, but more than that I want someone to walk into “That Place” with me tomorrow.
“Well…” I decide it might be best to try and lighten the mood quickly. “If you believe it, or want to believe it, you have to save it. Otherwise, just throw it out. You heard my fortune. Maybe my vibe reader isn’t working right.”
“No. I’m not going to say you’re wrong just yet. I mean, everyone wants to be happy. Even if it doesn’t work, it can’t hurt.” Luke tucks the fortune into his wallet and stands up to leave. “I better get you back to your car if we’re going to meet bright and early tomorrow.”
I nod and we head back outside. Just one more day and I still don’t have my miracle.
To: William Davis
Message: Why are you making everything so hard?! I followed you here hoping… well, I don’t know for what. I thought if I could follow your ghost I’d get some answers. All I have are more questions. Why can’t you just haunt me like a good boyfriend-ghost? Isn’t that what happens when people die, they come back to make sure the people they care about are okay? Well, where’s my sign? Huh? I couldn’t even get a decent fortune cookie. You’re a horrible dead boyfriend. And yeah, I realize how terribly selfish that sounds, but you did some terribly selfish things too, and I think you owe me one.
I really did love you. I think I still do. Maybe I’ll never stop. Doesn’t that deserve a sign? So I know you love me too. Just something small? It can be anything. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I just know I want you back.
“Don’t rush the seasons to change and then miss what you used to have.”
“Coffee?”
Luke’s waiting in the parking lot with two Seattle’s Best cups, leaning against his car and not looking nearly as cold as I feel.
“I brought my own.” I hold up my thermos, which can hold
about three of those little disposable cups. I don’t really plan on drinking that much coffee. I just want it to keep my hands warm. I hadn’t thought to pack gloves. That was dumb. My mom didn’t remind me, either. I guess I can put socks on my hands and call them mittens.
“Alright. Well, you ready?” Luke jerks his head towards “That Place”.
I nod, but I’m not sure what I really want to do. After last night’s fortune fiasco my expectations are pretty low. It doesn’t seem like there’s any hope for something good to come out of “That Place”. I bet I’m not the first person to think that walking in. I think Luke feels a little anxious too. That makes me feel better. I’m not sure if people have written books on the subject or not, but knowing you’re not the only one who’s scared, and anxious, and alone… it helps a lot. And it gets rid of that “being alone” thing, so, double plus.
“Hello!”
We’re greeted very kindly by a woman at the front desk. She seems to know Luke pretty well and they talk while I figure out how to sign in to the visitors’ book. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to put, so I just write that I’m visiting with Luke. I’m starting to feel sick. I never should have come here. Not just here to “That Place”, (well, I guess now it’s “This Place” now) but to Minnesota in general. I’m cold, tired, uncomfortable, and guess what? William’s still dead. He’s not here. He didn’t just go away again. I mean, maybe that’s what I’ve really been thinking this whole time. Maybe I’d actually convinced myself he wasn’t dead, that he’d just come back here and that’s why he wasn’t at home. But he isn’t here either. I can’t write down that’s who I’m visiting. He isn’t going to come say hi. He’s gone.
“You okay?” Luke looks genuinely concerned about me. I probably look like a ghost myself. I can feel tears in my eyes although I don’t remember starting to cry. I’d feel embarrassed, but I could also just walk out the doors and never see “This Place” again.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I should – “
“Nope. If I have to be here, you have to stay. Come on.” Luke takes my arm and gently pulls me in further. Once the doors seem farther away I start to calm down. “Let’s see if Zac’s here. He would’ve led the group William was in. Might be able to help you out a little.”
I silently hope whoever this guy is won’t be here today. Then at least I can say I tried and leave quickly. I know that sounds terrible, considering how much I’ve been bitching about a sign, but asking for something and actually trying to get it aren’t really the same thing. What if I get something I don’t like?
“Hey, Zac!” Luke calls to someone who just happens to have come out of the door closest to us. It figures we’d practically run into the guy.
“Hey, Lu. You here to see your dad?”
“Not that he wants to see me.”
“He wants to see you.”
“Yeah? Maybe you should tell him that.” Luke takes a deep breath and calms himself down. It sounds like he wants to be here about as much as I do. “But I actually want you to meet someone. Christine, this is Zac. She’s William, um, I don’t know his last name’s girlfriend. I was thinking you might have some time to talk with her?”
“Well, sure, but I don’t think I have anyone –“
“He died.” I finally find my voice and interject.
It’s easier than you think to tell people someone’s dead. You say it enough (and) it becomes routine. The words don’t mean anything after awhile.
“William Davis?”
I nod.
“Yeah, I remember him mentioning a Crissy. Guess that’s you. I have some free time if you’d like to come to my office. I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do for you, but I’ll do what I can.”
I nod again.
“Well, I guess that means I’ll have to visit Dad.” Luke gives a bitter smile. “If you want, I’ll meet you back where we came in before you leave.”
I nod again. I’m not sure where my voice went but I hope it comes back soon. Zac seems nice. He’s a lot younger than I expected. I follow him to his office, which turns out to be behind the door we saw him coming out of.
His office is nothing like the office of the grief counselor I went to see. It’s not that ugly gray color, for a start. It’s actually painted some kind of teal color. I’m not really sure what to call it, but it’s a lot friendlier. I still feel like I’m in “That Place” , but I’m not so scared about it. He has a bookshelf wedged in one corner that’s overflowing with books. Not all of them are psychology books either. I can see some plain old fiction, some highschool yearbooks (I’m assuming from his highschool years), and a bunch of magazines shoved in wherever they’ll fit. It’s my kind of bookshelf. Every inch of space is taken up by books, no decorative plants or books set out prominently to impress whoever comes in. His walls are covered with pictures too. Not ink blots, but actual pictures. Pictures of him and other people, people I assume he’s helped. I don’t see any pictures of William. I’m not sure what kind of sign that might be. At least his office seems like a safe place to be. I don’t feel like running away anymore.
“If you’re busy, you can get back to what you were doing. It’s not important.”
Zac laughs.“If it wasn’t important I don’t think you’d be here.”
I shrug.
“I don’t know why I’m here.” My voice starts to crack and I’m not even sure why I’m almost crying. I hate not being in control of things. I take a few deep breaths and calm down a little. Zac’s nice enough to pretend not to notice.
“Well, let me give you a hint.” Zac sits in the chair next to me and I feel like I’m back in grief counseling. I hated grief counseling. I just can’t believe thatsomeone who gets paid to listen to people’s problems all day can genuinely care about any of them.
“You’re here because William’s dead.”
“Yeah, no shit.” I’m a lot angrier than I thought I’d be. Probably all the grief-counseling flashbacks. “Sorry.” I only say it because I know it’s the polite thing to say.
“And what do you think I can do about that?”
“Nothing. He’s dead. I just…” I take a deep breath. Might as well just talk. At least I’ll never have to see this guy again. That makes it easier. “He spent so much time here. I didn’t get to see him as much as I wanted to. I didn’t get a normal relationship and I feel like I don’t have anything to hold on to. I thought if I came here I might be able to figure out who he was when I wasn’t around, that maybe I’d have something more, um, more tangible, to hold on to.”
“Why do you want to hold on to the person he was when he wasn’t with you?”
“Well…” I realize I’ve been talking to my shoes this whole time, but when I look at Zac my voice goes away. I start talking to my shoes again. “I think, maybe, I didn’t really know him. The guy I know, he wouldn’t have needed that one last high. He wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have left me again. He didn’t want to die.” I’m surprised this is the one time I’m not crying.
“And?”
“Huh?” I look up from my shoes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.
“What’s wrong with remembering him as the guy you knew?”
“Because, well…” Another deep breath. Here we go. Time to be honest. “Everyone -- the cop who told me he was dead, my parents, my...” I was going to say “friends” that’s not true anymore. “People I go to school with. They all think he’s just one more addict that screwed up. Once an addict always an addict.”
“So?”
“What if they’re right?” I whisper the question to my shoe. I don’t want to say it out loud. I feel like I’m betraying him, but the question is eating away at me and I have to ask it. At least now it is out of my head.
“Do you know for sure how he died?”
“No. I didn’t, I don’t, I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“I want to choose how I remember him.”
“Is that re
ally it?”
I hate how he’s asking all the right questions. He must have been doing whatever it is he does for a long time. I wonder how old he really is; he didn’t look that old at first, but he seems like he’s been through a lot.
“I don’t want to think I might have been able to stop him but I didn’t. I don’t want to think I made a mistake letting him into my life.”
“People have to make the choice for themselves, whether they stop or not. You can’t stop for them.”
I get the impression he’s given this speech a lot. That’s probably where Luke got it. I nod anyway.
“But William is dead.”
I’m glad he says “dead” not “gone” or “passed”. Seventeen-year-olds don’t “pass away”. There’s nothing gentle or peaceful about it. They die. It’s abrupt, blunt, and unwelcome. My grief counselor said “passed”, and I hated her for it. She also called William my “little friend.” Bitch.
Zac pauses to see if I have anything to say and then continues,“You can’t fix the past. You didn’t give him drugs. You supported him. You obviously cared about him or you wouldn’t be here.”
I nod.
“Yeah.”
“How do you think William would want you to remember him?”
“I don’t know.”
Zac laughs.
“There’s a reason he only showed you his best side. This place, people don’t come here because they’re happy with who they are. Did you ever think the reason you didn’t know the person he was here was because he didn’t want you to?”
“No.” That thought had never even crossed my mind. It makes sense. Finally. Someone makes sense.
“Okay, well, do you know how William would want you to remember him?”
I nod. That summer, holding my hand, smiling, talking about the future and fortune cookies. That’s my William. I don’t want to trade him for anyone else’s version.
“Oh…” Zac gets up, smiling. “I kept this for myself when we found out. I didn’t want them to throw it out, but I think it’s yours. Or at least, William said it was for you.” Zac tosses me something from his desk drawer. “I’m not sure if he finished it or not. He was supposed to come back, so he might have been planning on doing something else.”
Chasing William Page 14
