67. Messages and Plans

We sit on the edge of a cliff, staring out over the heads of trees capped by the light of the moon above and listening to the stream of the falls below. Jocelyn holds my hand and watches me intently.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You have to know when to let me go.”

I’m a little confused, since she’s the one who wanted to come here. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s okay to let me go. To let the memory of me go.”

“The memory of you?” I ask with a laugh. “I’m trying to create memories. That’s the point, right?”

“You have a good heart, and I just want to make sure that you share it with others.”

“I want to share it with you.”

“Don’t be selfish,” Jocelyn tells me, kissing me on the cheek. “And don’t get too stuck. Too stuck or too scared to move on.”

“Okay,” I say, and that’s when I wake up from the vivid dream.

I don’t see Jocelyn anymore that weekend. Nothing eventful happens except for the two calls I get from Ray inviting me to church. Talk about being a disciple. Both messages are taken by my mom. I don’t return the calls, and Sunday morning comes and goes.

By the time I arrive at school Monday morning after the four-day weekend I have an idea of how to possibly help Jocelyn out.

I need to get some answers.

I need to find someone who not only knows them, but will actually give them to me.

Someone who’s not only below the radar, but who’s effectively off it.

I find him standing at his locker like he always does, rearranging things. Probably to kill time.

“Hey, Newt.”

He greets me in his usual nervous fashion.

“You got any plans after school?”

Newt shakes his head, then looks around to see if anyone’s watching.

I’m beginning to understand a little more why this kid is paranoid. If he knows things, and he does, then he should be paranoid.

“Can we talk?”

“About what?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff pertaining to what?”

“Things,” I say.

I think he finally gets it by the look on my face. The scar on his cheek seems to redden as if it knows too.

“Things,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“We can’t do that around here.”

“You tell me where then.”

“My house is secure,” Newt says in the tone of a secret agent.

I want to laugh, but then again, I don’t.

Too many crazy things have happened.

I no longer think this kid is crazy.

Or maybe we both are.

“Is it far from downtown?”

“Not far enough,” he says.

“Write down your address when you can. I’ll swing by after school.”

I open the letter that Jocelyn slipped to me before second period.

Let’s act like you’ve taken their suggestion. Just to be on the safe side. K?

Means no lunch or hanging out.

Communicate the old-fashioned way. Writing letters.

Just make sure you shred after reading.

Without even glancing at Jocelyn, I begin to start tearing the note into tiny pieces on my desk.

Message received, loud and clear.

Thankfully, there are no run-ins with Gus, nor any guilt trips from Ray. The day is run-in free.

I move with the masses, standing in line and stepping in place. Doing what I should.

Whoever is watching is going to get bored because there’s nothing to notice.

Meanwhile, I’m noticing.

I’m trying to notice anything and everything.

When I get home, I know that Mom will be at work. I grab my bike and the handwritten directions and head out.