The Everafter Page 17
After? Dad says that when you're there, you're with everyone
you ever loved, that they become space and you fall into
them. You'll become them, and they'll become you. Everyone
is there, according to him, even if they're not dead yet,
because they're, well, already dead somewhere."
Who knew Gabe's dad could be so poetic? I bet he's
lounging around in the After with Emily Dickinson and my
mother. They're having great debates about the meaning of
death and loss.
While becoming one another, of course.
Not that I'm bitter or anything. "So if the Afters
that great, why haven't you gone there yet? Can't you get
there?"
"I don't know. I think I could. But I don't want to go yet.
J J ^
I look over to where the living Gabe and I are sitting at
a picnic table talking.
Oh, yeah. Guess I kind of forgot about them. I mean,
us.
I was busy paying attention to the other us.
Gabe continues, "I think it's been with me in Everywhere
this whole time."
"Everywhere? What's that?" I ask, but then I suddenly
know what he's talking about. "Oh. Everywhere. That must
be what I call Is"
"Yeah, Everywhere is kind of an . . . Is."
"Yeah, except lately I've started thinking of it as Am,
because, you know, while I'm there, I just kind of am . . .
well, everywhere, I guess." My brain is starting to get tangled.
"So why would mv necklace have been in Everywhere
with you?" I ask.
"I happened to be holding it just before . . . I mean, I
dropped it a second before we died. I guess that counts as
me losing it."
We. We died. He died with me? I suspected as much, but
hearing it is still disconcerting.
"So how am I supposed to get back to that final moment
of our lives? I need to have lost an object in that final
moment in order to get back to it."
"You did lose something. It's just not exactly an
object."
i l l
"What are you talking about?"
"Your life. You lost it there. That gives you free entry,
my dad says. I've never tried to do it. I have the necklace
with me in Everywhere, so I've never needed to find my lost
life there."
?!?!
Have I wasted all this time revisiting my life when all
along I had access to finding out how I died? Just by finding
my "life" in //?
"And how—exactly—am I supposed to find my life in
Is?" I ask. "I have no idea what it even looks like. Is this
some kind of Peter Pan thing? You know.. . find your shadowy
life and sew it back on so it can't get away again?"
Gabe's presence is smiling all around me. "Maybe it is.
Who knows? But I'm sure you'll figure it all out. Maybe it
has something to do with that whole 'am' thing you were
talking about. Try thinking something, you know, like 'I
am my life.*"
"It's worth a try. Will you come back to the moment of
our death with me?" Facing this alone is terrifying. Besides,
now that I've found Gabe again, I don't want to be without
him for a single second. Even as I'm asking the question,
though, I can tell from the feeling emanating off of him
that he's going to say no.
"My ghost will just be a distraction to you while you're
trying to see what's happening. Besides, I've already been
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
htarpwCtoinnsPubBsbera
QT.
AM ROCKS ME BACK AND FORTH like a baby. I fee! ray soulbeat
pounding against the bubble of space I inhabit here.
I concentrate on the feeling of it, the comfort of knowing
that the energy that is me still stretches its wings, longs to
expand.
/ am my life, I think, and instantly something indefinable
emerges within all the energy that is me. It's not at all
like Peter Pan's shadow, which struggled for its freedom.
That something is happy to be a part of me. It dances and
jumps, filling me with a giddy tingling. We float through
the Am of // on the way to find . . .
04
there, and I don't think I can bear to watch it all again.
Remember you won't be totally without me. The living me
will still be there."
"And after I've seen what happened? Will you meet me
back here?"
"Of course."
I realize I might just as well get on with this whole thing
so I can come back and see Gabe again.
And then move on with him to the After.
"I love you," I tell Gabe.
"I love you, too," he says.
And then I return myself to Am.
,'ii
UNCORRECTED EPROOF—NOT FOR SALE
Hj.CP?lCaU^P«kl.i£t>ers_
the end
GABE AND I ARE S*I*EPPI<; out of his father's car. We're at
Sandra's house. It's odd watching action I'd rather be feeling.
I know—but only from a strange distance—what the
pavement of the driveway must feel like under my feet. The
temptation to become me is greater when there's no spirit
Gabe or spirit Tammv to distract me.
"This clasp is broken," the living me says to Gabe. I'm
looking down at the "forever" necklace he gave me, trying
to bend the clasp ring farther open so I can retit the chain
link onto the end of it. Of course I stumble over a rock in
the driveway. I've never been good at walking and trying to
do something else at the same time.
m
Gabe reaches out and steadies me. I look up at him and
kiss him. "Would you see if you can fix this? I don't want to
lose it," I say, handing the necklace to him.
Now that I'm here, I remember all this. But how did
a simple trip co Sandra's house after school wind up being
the final scene of my life? It doesn't make sense. I start
trying to run through everything I remember about living
the experience, only to discover that I'm missing important
things as they're playing out in front of me.
So much for trying to remember. Gabe and I are already
halfway into the house, I have to go all Caspe r and swish
my way through the door while it's still open.
"What's wrong?" I'm asking Sandra. Dressed in old
jeans an ratty sweatshirt, she's standing in front of us,
blocking the hallway to keep us from going any farther into
the house. Th-ere's a strange silence invading everything. A
scary one.
But the look on Sandra's face is even scarier. I've never
seen anything" like it before. The living me knows that it's
a frightening expression, but the misty me recognizes its
depth of desperation in a way I never could have when I was
living. There's something dying behind those green eyes.
"What's wrong?" I ask Sandra.
Gabe is alarmed enough at her expression that he's put
his arm around her shoulders and is trying to lead her to
the living room. "Go get Sandra a glass of water, why don't
leave school your senior year. It's a great solution. Gets
vou away from your mom but lets you stay close enough to
check on her."
"Maddy, whatever. I'll talk to you about it later, okay?
Just go right now." She stands up and leads us back toward
the front door.
Sandra keeps glancing over her shoulder, but the living
me doesn't pay any attention to where Sandra's looking. I'm
so busy trying to convince her to leave with me that I don't
notice Airs. Simpson coming down the stairs.
But the misty me sees her, sees the horrible expression
on Airs. Simpson's face. She's never liked me, and the look
on her face now tells me she's moved beyond dislike. The
current of her hatred is an undertow, ready to pull all of us
into the depths of a furious ocean.
Airs. Simpson keeps moving down the stairs. Both her
hands are behind her back. She follows us toward the door
with frighteningly soft and purposeful steps. Her lips are
moving, but I can't hear what she's saying because the living
me is pleading so loudly with Sandra.
I mist myself closer to Airs. Simpson and hear her
mumbling, "You won't take her away from me. You won't
take her away from me. That's what you've always wanted.
But I won't let you do it."
She's pulling one of her arms from behind her back. She
has a gun in her hand. A ray of sunlight coming from the
you?" he says to me.
I move toward the kitchen, but Sandra starts crying.
"No," she says. "You've got to leave, .Maddy. My mom is
completely losing it."
"Where's your dad?" I ask.
"I don't know. I've been trying to reach him for a few
hours now. He left for work this morning, but he's not there
now, and his cell is turned off. I've just never seen my mom
quite like this before."
Gabe has managed to push her gently into the living
room and has settled her onto the couch.
"Where's your mom right now?" I ask.
"Upstairs. Look, you guys, you need to go."
"Is she threatening to kill herself again, Sandra? Maybe
you should call the police if she is. I mean, we can't really
handle that, you know?"
"Just go, please."
"You have to come with me, Sandra. I can't leave you
here."
"I can't go with you."
"Yes, you can. And you know what? Today I came up
with a brilliant solution to your problem. You can come live
with us for the rest of the school year. I know mv parents
will let you. My mom thinks you're great. And she knows
how crazy your mom is. She won't want you to stay here.
And she'll understand how important it is not to have to
open front door catches the flat black side of the metal barrel.
The reflected beam of light gleams with an incongruent
beauty. Airs. Simpson raises her arm, pointing the gun at
my back as I stand with Sandra bv the door.
The gun's trigger is gold. It stands out against the
deathly black of the rest of the gun. I've never before felt
threatened by anything gold-colored, and yet I understand
what is about to happen. Mv life will end.
Airs. Simpson brings her second arm around to the
front, using a two-handed grip on the gun. I want to shout
at myself, tell myself to run, save my life. I don't have time
to think about whether I should change the past. I have to
do it. I have to save myself and Gabe.
Only it's not that simple.
Gabe has turned and sees Airs. Simpson. He's wearing
an expression of utter shock, whispering, "Jesus Christ." I
can tell what he's about to do, and I have to stop him. I can't
seem to save us both. I don't have time to think . . . it's all
happening so fast.
Gabe drops the necklace and lunges at Airs. Simpson.
She sees him coming and swings her arms around to point
the gun at him. The only thing I have time to do is use all
my energy to push back against the gun, to move its muzzle
so it isn't pointing at Gabe anymore. The gun is in wild
movement as a shot is fired. The shot whizzes toward me,
where I'm standing next to Sandra at the door. Alive.
!)1
For only a fraction of a second longer.
Everything goes blank. Dead. Even the spirit me is not
allowed to see what happens next.
Thank God.
I can't bear to see the expression on Sandra's face as she
realizes her mother has killed me.
L ! J
UNCORRECTED E-PROOf —HOT FOR SALE
a f t e r the end
I'M BACK IN AM, surrounded by all the objects that have
taken me on so many journeys.
Strange...
They don't attract me at all anymore. I don't want to go
back and see any of those scenes of my life.
They all end the same way.
If I changed any of the individual scenes, eventually, it
would all end the same, wouldn't it? I could go back to the
final scene and try again to save Gabe 3nd myself, but I'd
only be prolonging my life. I might find out what happens
with Kristen and the baby. Or who my friends go to prom
with. I might even marry and have children of my own.
i
For only a fraction of a second longer.
Everything goes blank. Dead. Even the spirit me is not
allowed to see what happens next.
Thank God.
I can't bear to see the expression on Sandra's face as she
realizes her mother has killed me.
L = J
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
t e r t h e end
I'M BACK IN AM, surrounded by all the objects that have
taken me on so many journeys.
Strange...
They don't attract me at all anymore. I don't want to go
back and see any of those scenes of my life.
They all end the same way.
If I changed any of the individual scenes, eventually, it
would all end the same, wouldn't it? I could go back to the
final scene and try again to save Gabe and myself, but I'd
only be prolonging my life. I might find out what happens
with Kristen and the baby. Or who my friends go to prom
with. I might even marry and have children of my own.
it]
But eventually I'd have to die, wouldn't I?
And no matter when I left, I'd always wonder about someone.
Would it be any better to be in Tammy's situation? I
mean, wondering whatever happened to your own children?
I don't think I'm any better off knowing how I died than
I was when I didn't know. Finding out is kind of deflating,
actually. It seems like I haven't accomplished anything by
solving this mystery.
Except... I realize that's not quite true. Because what
I've accomplished is understanding that mystery can be a
good thing. There are some things it's good not to know,
because when you don't, the Universe is full of possibilities.
1 guess I now realize, too, t h a t , , . well, it's okay to
die. I didn't want to die. I'm glad it's not my fault that I did,
but what's happened has already happened. There truly is a
time to live and a time to d
ie. Maybe all that is what I actually
needed to know—not bow I died.
Besides, knowing how I died has brought me pain and
regret, too. I recognize how destroyed Sandra must feel
about what happened, and I don't have any way to let her
know I understand this is not her fault. I can't tell her that
even though I'm dead, I'm fine. Not unless I want to leave
her a note at the death scene, which would probably scare
her half to death and make her think she's losing her sanity.
She probably already thinks she is, anyway. No. A note
would just be too cruel. I have to wait to stumble upon her
.•ii
out here in the Universe somewhere before I can have that
conversation with her.
In the meantime, E have to trust that somehow she'll be
fine. Like I am.
Now it's time to find Gabe. Even though I never saw
what happened after Mrs. Simpson shot me, I know Gabe
died, too, even after I tried to change things. I can sense his
spirit in the universe me. I locate my physics homework....
"Well?" he wants to know as soon as I arrive at the picnic
table.
It feels good to be back with him, but for all my newfound
love of mystery, there are still some questions I
wouldn't mind having the answers to. "How did it happen,"
I ask him, "those final moments? I mean, in the original
version? Because I tried to change how things turned out
and now I wonder what originally happened. Erom the time
Mrs. Simpson raised the gun, I mean."
" I don't exactly rem ember because I changed the moment,
too. I wanted to prevent us both from dying. I remember
that, and I remember going back to change things. Only it
didn't work. We still ended up dead. And when I got back
to Everywhere, I had already lost all my memories of the
original events. I could only remember the new ones—that
and the tact that I'd somehow changed things. And now all I
can remember from that final scene is what happened when
you changed it."
(43
"I tried to save you but ended up killing me. Did she
shoot you right after she killed me?"
"Yeah. I remember that for a split second she seemed
surprised, and then she turned on me and shot me."
"Do you think we could ever change the outcome of
that scene?" I ask him. "Maybe we can work together to
do it somehow." I know, even while I'm saying it, that we
shouldn't, but I need to hear that from Gabe.
"I don't know. No matter what we do, we might end up