There are reminders everywhere, things I just can’t seem to let go of. It’s one thing to try and bury memories or simply walk around ignoring them. It’s another to actually throw away something associated with a memory.
There’s the laptop that Iris gave me. I haven’t used it for fear that she might suddenly pop up on Skype or something. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve seen a lot of crazy around here, so nothing would surprise me.
That picture that I found in my locker—the one of me smiling. It’s completely blurry and useless, like a snapshot someone took of the sun while riding a bike. Yet still I haven’t been able to throw it away.
A painting that I did in art class last semester.
The picture of the woods and the poem underneath it.
All the stuff that belongs to Mom’s brother, Uncle Robert. Other than the records and the T-shirts, everything is going untouched.
Even Midnight reminds me.
The Saturday sun is bright, and I just want to feel as good as I did a couple of weeks ago. I’m not going to let the darkness slip in again.
I’m a senior. Sure, my school and town are from hell, but besides that, I’m staring at my future. Soon I’ll be able to leave this place. This town and this cabin and all the secrets that surround it. I’ll let my mom figure them out. Or not. It’s up to her.
I tried.
I tried and failed.
What more can I do?
It’s eleven in the morning, and Mom is still sleeping when I answer the phone.
“This Chris?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, man, it’s Harris.”
I hadn’t spoken with him much at the end of the week, so getting a call from the guy I barely know is a surprise.
“What’s up?”
“Look—I was going to tell you about the party we were talking about in class, but you took off Friday.”
“Uh—I left after you did,” I correct him. “You were waiting for Lily.”
“Oh, right,” he says in a way that doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but rather in a way that says he hadn’t noticed I was still there. “Well, then, that’s a bit strange.”
“What?”
“Well—Lily was the one who told me to give you a call. That girl … man.”
“What about her?”
“She’s like kinda crazy. In a good way. Mostly good, I guess.”
“She wanted you to call me?”
“Yeah. She was texting me last night. You know she went out with Roger?”
“And she was texting you?”
“Yeah. While she was on the date.”
I can’t help but laugh. “So it was that good, huh?”
“Oh, man. That Roger—he’s something else. He shows up high as a kite thinking Lily was into that. He takes her to some party in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of potheads. Brick even showed up. She was texting me the craziest stuff. It was better than paying to see a comedy.”
I’m glad to hear about the date gone bad. But I’m still not sure what it has to do with me.
“Listen—she was asking about the party tonight. Then she asked if I’d invited you, and I told her no, I forgot. She was like totally moody last week. Stuff going on in her personal life.”
“Like what?” I can’t help asking.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Probably the parents drama, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, it’s going to be a pre-July Fourth party at Ray Spencer’s house. Probably the last he’ll have for a while.”
“Ray’s place?”
Suddenly the invite doesn’t sound so inviting.
“You know him, right? I remember seeing you guys together.”
“He ran track,” I say.
“That’s right. Yeah, cool. Well, it’s going to be huge. I’m not always invited to Ray’s parties, but with Lily—well, word’s gotten around. Ray wants to meet her. As you can guess.”
“Sure.”
“So anyway, just wanted to let you know. Starts in the evening sometime.”
“Cool.”
“Sweet,” Harris says. “See you there.”
I get off the phone and look outside. I think of the last few weeks of school, where Ray basically ignored me both on the track field and in the school hallways. Not on purpose, at least not that I could tell. It just seemed like he was busy thinking about college and the end of the school year and graduation and all that. I was busy chasing ghosts and nightmares.
I think of Ray meeting Lily. He’ll surely throw himself at her with his charm and good looks.
The party I went to with Jocelyn seems like a long time ago.
You had a chance to be buddies with Ray, but you never really let him in.
Who could blame me? I let my so-called “cousin” in, and that got me nowhere. Now Jared’s a distant memory like so many others that I got to know during the school year.
Mom comes walking out of her bedroom.
“Just in time for lunch,” I tell her.
She looks at me with a wrinkled smile. “You know—I get enough lip at work.”
“Hey—I’m going to a party tonight at Ray Spencer’s house.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll probably be late,” I tell her.
“Okay.”
She’s telling her sixteen-year-old, who’s riding around winding mountain roads on a motorcycle without a license and going to a party, “Okay.”
I’d appreciate even a mild “Be careful” or “Be safe” or “Don’t drive yourself off a mountain ledge and impale yourself on a sharp branch.”
These are the small things I wish for. Not much. Just a little care.