RIPLEY’S HOUSE.
Adam still had trouble calling it that.
The Wellers had lived there for three and a half years. They had replaced the windows. Built an extension. Widened the driveway and relandscaped the lawn.
But Adam saw the old things. The wall that Edgar and Adam had helped paint. Edgar’s basketball hoop, still hanging on the garage. The outline of the name HALL on the mailbox where the letters had been removed.
To Adam, it was still Edgar’s house.
Even now, as Ripley rode up the driveway, Adam imagined his old friend standing and waving good-bye.
Stop.
What’s past is past.
He and Lianna waved back, then began to pedal away.
“Sorry I yelled at you before,” Lianna said.
“Well, Ripley got it much worse than I did.” Adam smiled. “I didn’t realize you still had a temper.”
“When he said that about Edgar, I freaked. Especially after what you said, about hearing Edgar’s voice.”
“It wasn’t only hearing,” Adam replied. “I thought I was seeing the accident. Like a flashback.”
“Adam, that is weird.”
“I still have nightmares, too. All the time. Strong ones, where everything is so clear.”
Lianna looked at him. “Everything?”
No.
Not everything.
Edgar’s teasing, yes. The angle of the sun and the smell of the air. The weight of the net. The incredible frustration at Edgar.
After that, the dream always became muddy. Fragmented.
Even the fight was a blur.
The fight that had started it all.
I was a hothead. I couldn’t control myself back then.
“I can’t remember the fight,” Adam said, “or the accident.”
Lianna exhaled. “You’re lucky. I wish I could forget them.”
After the accident, Lianna had told him what happened. She’d told the TV stations and newspapers, too. Adam had saved all the articles. Over the years, he’d read them a thousand times, trying to spark a memory. Trying to free what he’d blocked.
The ice broke. Edgar fell in. The crack spread toward me. I tried to run away, but I wasn’t fast enough. Lianna reached for us both. Edgar was flailing and almost pulled her in. But I was still. Unconscious. So she pulled me out and ran to get help. The ambulance came and took Edgar and me to the hospital. By then, Edgar was already…
Lianna was looking at him with concern. “You don’t still blame yourself, do you?”
“I shouldn’t have been so mad at him,” Adam replied.
“Adam, we all get mad. That doesn’t make us murderers.”
Don’t ask her. Don’t bring it up—
The words flew out of Adam’s mouth. “Did I hit him, Lianna? Is that where the bump on his head came from?”
Lianna’s face darkened. “That was a rumor, Adam. Forget it. It’s not worth your time.”
“What exactly did I do? Did I even try to save him—?”
“Adam, please! You think it’s easy for me to talk about this? Be grateful you don’t remember.”
She’s not saying I didn’t do it.
They were in front of Lianna’s house now. She turned sharply up her driveway.
Adam squeezed his brakes and turned. His bike slipped out from under him. He put out his leg to stop a fall.
The backpack, which he’d hooked over his laser pack, slipped off his shoulder. It fell to the street.
Thud.
The sound was sharp, metallic.
Lianna turned. “Klutz,” she said with a wry smile.
Before Adam could react, she glided over and lifted the pack off the street. Balancing it on her handlebars, she unzipped it and reached in.
She pulled out a small videocamera.
Great. It had to be something expensive.
“Don’t fool with it,” Adam said.
But Lianna was already flicking buttons. Peering through the viewfinder. The red indicator light beamed above the lens.
“No image,” Lianna said, handing the camera back. “You busted it.”
“The owner’s going to sue me.”
“He’ll be happy someone found it.” Lianna yawned. “Don’t sweat it, Adam. You worry too much.”
As she pedaled up her driveway, Adam lifted the viewfinder to his eye.
Now the camera was working. Sort of. It was glowing with a blurry image of the street.
He adjusted the focus. The image sharpened, but the street looked totally washed out. The cars, trees, houses— everything was blanketed in white, as if it had snowed.
Maybe it can be repaired.
Adam dropped the videocamera in the backpack, put both packs around his shoulders, and set off down the street.
He’d deal with it tomorrow.