Life After Death: A Story of Love, Loss, and Living

by Jamie Hitchcock

  Life After Death

  A Story of Love, Loss, and Living

  By Jamie Hitchcock

  Copyright © Jamie Hitchcock, 2020.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted by email without permission in writing from the author. Reviewers may quote brief passages in reviews. For permissions, contact the author.

  Neither the author nor the publisher assumes any responsibility for errors, omissions, or contrary interpretations of the subject matter herein. Any perceived slight of any individual or organization is purely unintentional.

  Brand and product names are trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective owners.

  Cover Design: Sally Wright Day

  Editing: Maggie McReynolds

  Author’s photo courtesy of Madeleine Wilson Photography

  Table of Contents

  *1*

  *2*

  *3*

  *4*

  *5*

  *6*

  *7*

  *8*

  *9*

  *10*

  *11*

  *12*

  *13*

  *14*

  *15*

  *16*

  *17*

  *18*

  *19*

  *20*

  *21*

  *22*

  *23*

  *24*

  *25*

  *26*

  *27*

  *28*

  *29*

  *30*

  *31*

  *32*

  *33*

  *34*

  *35*

  *36*

  *37*

  *38*

  *39*

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To you, the reader, and anyone who has loved, lost, and learned to keep living.

  Summer

  *1*

  It was one of the first truly warm days of late May in the state of Washington, and the whole town was enjoying the sunshine. Amara, however, daydreamed of a torrential rain sweeping through the English hills as she settled down into her book. There was little she enjoyed more than letting her mind wander into foreign lands from the comfort of a soft, sunny day. The grass she laid on brushed lightly against her forearm, and she imagined it as the soft caress of a lover’s touch.

  Around her, couples strolled along the boardwalk hand in hand, gazing out across the vast, glimmering sea. The adjoining park consisted of a sliver of lush grass stretched parallel to the rocky beach, dotted with gaggles of people.

  The scene was picturesque: kids constructing sandcastles, teens competing to make the most outrageous formations of precariously balanced rocks, teams of boys tossing footballs or Frisbees, and brightly patterned hammocks strewn throughout the tree line. Even the cormorants took advantage of the rays, perching themselves atop the towering boulders with their wings spread slightly so that the warm air might dry their dampness.

  Amara had allowed herself to follow a group of friends down to the waterfront, even though she was supposed to be in her Philosophy of Religion class this afternoon. She was already a week ahead of the scheduled readings, and she convinced herself that the class would likely be half empty anyway because of the warm weather. Here in the Pacific Northwest, the first sunbeams of spring created enough occasion for worship to rival even the most devoted churchgoer.

  This class, while initially chosen merely to meet her undergraduate requirements, particularly fascinated her. She enjoyed learning about the origins of various religions, and found it entertaining to listen to debates about the validity of mono- versus polytheism. But this was all an exercise in futility, as Amara personally didn’t believe in anything. Her parents raised her in something adjacent to Hinduism, and she found comfort in the idea of karma and reincarnation. The concept of a universal morality and truth, however, was more problematic for her logical mind. Somewhere along the way she realized her critical nature was ultimately incompatible with true faith.

  Truthfully, Amara believed in everything, but nothing in entirety. She found it inappropriate, however, to argue her personal beliefs in an entry-level college class, so she generally kept this discussion within her own mind. Amara was also thankful that this was the only class on her schedule today, for she would never have agreed to this diverting adventure if it had meant skipping a science lab. Those were the classes that counted if she ever wanted to be a neuroscientist, which she very much did.

  Amara was definitely smart enough to be anything she wanted to be. She had never truly failed at anything she cared about, and it was hard for her to say if this was a result of being selective in her choices or natural talent. Maybe it was due to good parenting. As first-generation immigrants from India, Sanjay and Namita Pula had raised their daughters in the image of the American dream, to work hard and make opportunities for yourself, which both Amara and her sister had been eager to do. Either way, Amara was insecure about her successes and often tried to hide her ambition behind her studiousness.

  As it was, Amara sat on the edge of the blanket, reclining against her backpack while she read Jane Austen. Her friends aligned themselves on blankets and towels, periodically adjusting their position to follow the sun’s trajectory, like a patch of sunflowers. They were friends of convenience, if they could even be called friends, for Amara didn’t think she had many real friends. This thought didn’t bother her much, but the revelation was mildly surprising when it occurred to her. Nevertheless, they accepted her quiet reserve without much complaint, and for that she was grateful.

  The girls had strategically chosen a spot along the paved path where they might casually catch the attention of attractive boys who ran by. They were all pretty, young women with dainty legs made perceptually longer by their high-waisted shorts. Long hair flowed gracefully down their backs or was tossed into voluptuous, messy buns, which somehow perfectly dwarfed their features to capture a babyish beauty.

  Amara had never managed to learn this trick. Her bun was either too tight or just untidy. Right now it was too short to pull back entirely either way. Last month, her friend Kianna insisted that all of her roommates dye their hair in a late-night bonding session. Amara chose to dye the bottom four inches of her hair blue. For a few short weeks it was exciting, edgy even. But as it faded, it turned to a streaky green, and the bleach she used to lighten her dark hair turned it brassy.

  She had scheduled an appointment at the salon at the end of the month, but late one night her impatience got the better of her, and she chopped it all off herself. The cut was done well enough and ended up as a shoulder-length, angled bob that added a nice edge to her soft jawline. Today, she wore the front section pulled back in a braid along the side of her head so that she could read unobstructed.

  “Put some sunscreen on my back, would you?” Kianna asked.

  Amara set her book down and hastily complied.

  Nobody doubted that Kianna was the pack leader, and definitely the most beautiful. Her absurdly large eyes looked almost other-worldly, and batted reflexively at every object focused in her gaze. A person couldn’t help but feel special when held in her attention. Even Amara was not immune to the effects, though she was cognizant of the jealousy it could invoke in some people when that attention flitted elsewhere.

  “Hey Charlie!” Kianna sang across the lawn. Twisting her face into a sad frown, she moped, “I can’t believe you’d rather throw around that football than spen
d time with your girlfriend.”

  Her boyfriend Charlie and his crew trotted over. Many of them wore sleeveless T-shirts from their rec sports teams, though the weather was not nearly warm enough for such apparel. Charlie was the latest in Kianna’s line of eager-to-please boyfriends, and Amara thought it unlikely that he’d last any longer than his predecessors, who had averaged less than a month. Nonetheless, he was kind enough and genuinely appeared to care for Kianna. He kissed her affectionately on the lips as he sat beside her.

  His friends, on the other hand, were standard college bros who had enthusiastically embraced their newfound freedom from home but still hadn’t bothered to learn how to use a washing machine. The other girls in the gathering were undeterred by this fact. They began teasing and flirting with the guys as they mingled.

  A tall, skinny boy with shaggy, blonde hair stood in front of Amara, casting a shadow across her book. Amara looked up. He smiled, flicking a football into the air above his shoulder. Seeing that he’d caught her attention, the boy feigned a casual hand through his hair, showcasing his tan shoulders along the way.

  Amara tried to ignore the performance. She lowered her gaze.

  The boy stepped closer, practically standing on her book. He flicked the football again. On the way down the ball bobbled, slipped through his hands, and crashed into Amara’s sunglasses. One of the lenses popped out as they landed on the ground.

  “Oh man, butterfingers!” he exclaimed by means of apology. He bent to pick up her broken glasses.

  “I’m a woman,” Amara replied.

  “Huh?”

  “You called me a man,” she explained. “I was just clarifying that I’m not.”

  “Oh right, okay. Umm, sorry about your sunglasses.” He handed the pieces back to her. “Can I buy you new ones?”

  “Thank you, but no. I have another pair at home.” Amara returned to her book.

  “Suit yourself,” he retorted, then quickly checked his temper. Smoothing his expression, he asked, “What are you reading?”

  “Pride and Prejudice,” she said shortly, trying not to lose her place on the page.

  “That’s the one with the annoying poor girl who falls for a rich guy, right?”

  “Elizabeth is not annoying. She’s a flawed heroine,” Amara corrected as she flipped the page.

  “Uh, all right. Well, maybe you could tell me more about it over a cup of coffee? I’m sure you’d rather spend a nice day like this with a nice guy like me.” He flashed a cocky grin as he gestured to the coffee stand at the end of the path.

  “No thanks, I had some earlier.”

  “Then maybe a drink later?” He flipped the football reflexively in the air as he talked.

  “Thank you, but no. I already have plans later.” Amara lowered her book and steadied her gaze.

  “Fine. I was just trying to be nice since you were just sitting here all alone. Everyone else is having a good time.”

  “Trust me, I’m in good company,” Amara said, patting the book.

  The boy scoffed and retreated to the other side of the circle to rejoin his friends.

  *2*

  Nathan strolled across the boardwalk, weaving to avoid the couples nestled along the railing. The briny air smelled of low tide and roses. In the unseasonable warmth of the sun, he wore a white T-shirt tucked into the front of his dark-wash jeans. He hid his deep blue eyes behind a pair of aviators. Having always been tall, Nathan spent his life trying to duck into the expectations of others, which left him with a slight bow to his neck that probably wouldn’t have been noticeable except for his otherwise immaculate posture.

  The path curved back toward the shore, connecting with a strip of pavement that meandered through the lawn. He stopped briefly at the coffee stand near the entrance of the park to order an iced coffee, black. After retrieving his drink from the window counter, he continued on to the far end of the park, where he spotted his friends. He quickened his pace to meet them and tossed a wave in their direction. A few of them signaled back. In truth, he didn’t know many of the people in the group beyond casual interactions at parties. His only true connection was his high school friend Alex, whose entertaining antics, particularly when drunk, had gained him a certain degree of notoriety in numerous social circles.

  At the moment, Nathan could see that Alex was on a mission, so he took a seat on the grass at the perimeter of the crowd. He pulled a flask of whiskey from his back jeans pocket and added a stiff pour to his coffee, then settled in to soak up the sun. Amused, he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

  Alex positioned himself within sight of a cute girl reading a book and flexed his biceps as he tossed a football up in the air. The girl was pretty, with milky brown skin and soft features, though her studiousness gave her an air of pretention that Nathan found off-putting. As Alex caught sight of Nathan, he lost focus on the ball, causing it to fumble through his hands and smack directly into the girl’s face.

  That’s one way to get her attention, Nathan thought sarcastically. He sucked in a breath and waited to see if Alex could recover. After a brief exchange, Alex retreated with a scowl and plopped down next to him.

  “Smooth,” Nathan said in greeting.

  “Whatever, man, she was a totally uptight anyway. Wouldn’t even stop reading to talk to me,” Alex grumbled.

  “Ah, let it go, dude, she’s not worth the hassle,” Nathan advised, clapping Alex on the back.

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s her problem.” Alex shrugged off his indignation. Grabbing his backpack, he switched topics.

  “Here, check it out, an early birthday present for you. I was going to hold it until the weekend, but you’re here so I’ll give it to you now. I didn’t think they’d let you out of the garage so early today.” He opened his bag to reveal a small paper sack which concealed a few rolled joints tucked safely into a thin glass tube.

  “Thanks, man!” Nathan said, discreetly transferring the sack to his coat pocket. “I was supposed to start training with Sal to do sales today, but business has been slow so he let me go once I finished de-winterizing the boats this morning. I think he was having a rough morning. Probably didn’t want me in his hair today.”

  “Well, glad you could hang out at least. And if you really feel like thanking me, maybe you could share a few hits of that with me this weekend.”

  “Sure, if you get there early enough,” Nathan said with a grin.

  “Oh, you know I’ll be there.”

  The conversation lulled, and Alex wandered off to mingle with the rest of the pack. Nathan sat for a while longer, drinking and enjoying the lazy day. As he looked around the park, he took particular interest in the people studying. Even on this warm, sunny afternoon, they insisted on dedicating themselves to their schoolwork. For a moment, he felt something that was almost akin to envy. He wasn’t envious of their inane work ethic – that part was ridiculous – but more so of their general vigor and direction.

  After high school, Nathan hadn’t bothered to apply to college at all. The excuse he pleaded to his parents was that he didn’t want to waste their money while he “explored his options.” Thankfully, this defense bought him a few years of leniency, though he felt himself pushing the boundaries of this extension more and more each day. Truth was, there wasn’t much that inspired Nathan in this small harbor town, and he didn’t see the point of going to college just because his friends were. The day after graduation felt like the first day of the rest of his life.

  The problem now was that after four years of “living,” all he’d managed was a middle-tier job at a boat dealership in the same lazy town and a small studio apartment by the water. His job paid for rent and a few nice dinners with his girlfriend, but fueled little else. If there was a purpose to life, Nathan hadn’t found it yet.

  After passing judgment on each of the surrounding students in turn, Nathan was left with a feeling of mediocrity that cast shadows on the scene. He belched lazily. The scent of his own bitterness wafted through his
nostrils, mixed with an aftertaste of coffee and whisky. Unable to clear the stench of his shortcomings, Nathan decided it was time to go. As he stood, he pulled his phone from his back pocket. Six missed calls, all from his girlfriend Cece. He called her back.

  She answered before it even rang.

  “Nate, where are you? I need to talk you.” Her voice sounded strangely tight.

  “I’m at the boulevard. Are you okay?” Nathan asked worriedly.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to tell you something. I don’t want to do it over the phone.”

  Her response didn’t do much to quell his fears. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m on my way home.”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you there,” she replied.

  “Okay. See you soon, babe.” He hung up the phone and signaled abruptly to Alex that he was leaving.

  By this point, Alex had struck out with every single female within a hundred-yard radius and was left with no better option but to take his leave with Nathan. Dejectedly admitting defeat, Alex hurriedly shuffled around on the grass to collect his things. He noticed the cute girl’s book sitting unattended on a blanket and, in a moment of spite, snatched the book and tucked it under his arm. He stuffed all his other belongings haphazardly into his backpack and ran to catch up with Nathan, who had already started back along the path.

  Nathan continued his pace, not caring if his friend caught up to him or not, though he strolled slowly enough that Alex could easily meet him if he wanted. After a few more steps, Alex scurried into step beside him on the pavement. The two boys walked side by side while Alex ranted about the various girls he had chatted up and the systemic discrimination they had each shown him in return.

  “I bet it’s all because of Tara, you know, that girl that I was seeing for a while? Anyways, things didn’t end so well, and I bet she’s been going around talking bad about me to her friends. You know how girls talk …”

  Alex rambled on incessantly the whole way through the park, though Nathan was only listening enough to catch a word or two every few sentences. In fact, Nathan was so caught up in his own worries that he nearly missed Alex’s goodbye and was momentarily confused when Alex changed his course toward the coffee shop.