Touching The Surface Part 5

"He's my brother."

It was a quiet and simple statement and I couldn't get a lock on the motivation behind it. Then I remembered Trevor's despair at Oliver's funeral, his crumpled form.

Oliver tugged at my hand, but I let my fingers slip from his grasp. For the first time, I tried to see everything from Trevor's point of view. I didn't want to admit it, but his new memories must've been as shocking to him as mine were to me. It didn't matter how big of an a.s.s he was, his Delve to the gravesite had been heart wrenching.

I decided to extend the olive branch. It was obvious that he'd been hurt too. Like Mel had suggested, maybe we were in this together. Besides, he didn't have a Pa.s.senger watching out for him.

I glanced up at Trevor. Correction. I obviously wasn't in anything with anyone. Julia moved forward and entwined her fingers with his. The placement of each finger was like the tumblers of a lock falling into place. She was on one side and I was on the other, separated by a wall of Trevor. I focused on the newest slogan printed in neon across his chest.

HOW CAN I MISS YOU IF YOU WON'T GO AWAY?

He was hateful! I was trying and he was soa"

I scrolled through my mental list of nasty phrases and they all seemed to apply.

Arrogant.

Destructive.

c.o.c.ky.

Insensitive.

Rude.

Conniving.

Manipulative.

Uglya"I threw that one in just because I felt like it. Finally, convinced I had enough anger in me to hold my ground, I faced him. His jaw was clenched so tight it pulsed, and I felt myself wilting under his gaze. All my bravado melted into puddles at my feet.

My weakness made me hate him more. The fact that he had Julia and I didn't was unbearable. I rushed past Oliver and out the door.

a a a I skipped lunch and snuck up to my room. I had one ear tuned toward the door, listening for the delicate dance of Julia's footsteps. This was the first time I was hoping she wouldn't show up. If I heard her coming, I might seriously consider hiding under the bed.

I'd expected to feel safe up here, but I couldn't get out of my own head. I couldn't block out the vision of Julia sucking face with Trevor or stop remembering Oliver bloodied and broken.

I broke him.

I flipped back and forth between self-loathing and confusion. I winced as a fresh strip of cuticle was torn from my ring finger, a hapless victim of my emotions. I started picking at the next finger while I paced. I couldn't remember her, but I so wanted my mom right now.

What about Oliver's mom? She must be devastated. She wasn't aware that he was safe and happy, here with me. She couldn't comprehend that he loved the girl who'd taken him away. She might be struggling to believe there even was an afterlife. Did she have moments where she wondered if her baby had been erased?

I flashed back to the look on her face, when she knew without a doubt that Oliver was gone. The raw, visceral noises that poured out of her soul as she ran to him.

I could hear the hum and feel my legs quivering. The lights were going out again. This memory was the last place I ever wanted to return to but it seemed like my intense emotions were the trigger for these unexpected Delves. I threw out my hands in protest but . . .

a a a I couldn't watch anymore. I couldn't move. Horror anch.o.r.ed my feet to the earth. I could hear sirens in the distance, but they were too late.

Too late to save Oliver.

Too late to save me.

Too d.a.m.n late.

Staring at my feet, I noticed my hand. It had blood on it. Curled between my fingers was a cell phone filled to capacity with the indescribable cries of my mom.

I flipped the phone shut. It slid from my fingers and clattered to my feet. I was alone, wis.h.i.+ng for my mother and realizing that I didn't deserve to have her comfort me.

The little girl in the car seat wailed and I could hear the sirens coming closer in the moments when Oliver's mom quieted, pressing her lips to his dirt-streaked face. Her silence only lasted as long as it took for her mind to rewrap itself around the trunk of that tree. It was agonizing to watch. Then her head shot up and she blazed with accusation. She burned from the inside out and all her fire was directed at me. She knew what I'd done.

a a a I woke up sprawled across my bed, with the sun peeking up over the trees. I must have staggered over before falling into that Delve. I didn't know if my exhaustion was from the heart-wrenching memories or if it was a shut-off valve for having taken in too much information. Either way I'd slept through the night. I was grateful. Sleep had been a reprieve from the problems that were never going to go away.

Looking around, I realized Julia wasn't here, but she had been. Two more paper cranes lay on my pillow. Now I had three of them.

There was a persistent tap at the door. "Elliot, open up." The voice was male and authoritative. I must've processed the words a little too slowly, because as I glanced up he was coming through the door.

"David?"

What was he doing in my room? I didn't see a hospitality basket with m.u.f.fins.

David stood in the middle of my sanctuary and slowly rotated 360 degrees. My fingers reached up and clutched a lock of my hair, trying to find something tangible to hold on to while my s.p.a.ce was being invaded.

"So, this is where Mel stashed you." He sniffed and a plug of phlegm s.h.i.+fted and rattled. "I suppose Freddie had something to do with it too."

Was I supposed to say something? This guy was utter kryptonitea"rendering all my best snarky retorts useless in his presence. My brain rattled around like a squeaky hamster wheel. I closed my mouth for fear of drooling and giving him more ammunition.

"I imagine you're wondering what I'm doing up here," he said, as his fat fingers molested the fuzzy blanket tossed over the end of my bed. He plucked one of Julia's cranes, sending it flying into the limbo s.p.a.ce between my bed and the wall. I could feel cold sweat pooling in very unattractive places.

"Mel asked me to check on you since she's busy spending time with Trevor. You remember Trevor?"

"Trevor and Mel are together?" I choked out the words.

When I looked up, David's bushy mustache could barely disguise a smirk. The twinkle in his eyes showed how much he enjoyed my distress.

I stared at him but found myself sliding backward toward the headboard of my bed, bracing myself for his next verbal attack. I didn't have to wait long.

"You seem confused, Miss Turner. Did you expect her to come and comfort you after your big day of revelations?" He twisted the chunky ring on his pinky finger. "She isn't really your mother, even though you act like she is." He leaned down and lowered his voice. "Mothers don't always come to the rescue. Sometimes . . . they've got nothing to give."

Unshed tears pressed hotly against my eyeb.a.l.l.s. My scalp hurt, as my finger twirled my hair tighter and tighter with his every comment.

David took it all in and then dropped the bomb. "Mel's probably helping him privately Delve for more memories. I imagine he is dying to know how else you've destroyed his life."

That's why David was here. He was gloating, rubbing salt into my wounds. What had I ever done to him?

The room was spinning and I couldn't think. I slammed down the feelings of betrayal. I didn't have the right to expect other people to be there for me, not after what I'd done. But I'd a.s.sumed that Mel was still in my corner. I wanted her to be on my side since Julia had abandoned me. I ached with need.

I tucked my head between my knees, feeling dizzy from the thoughts swirling around between my ears, like flotsam in a whirlpool. I was ashamed of what kept circling back for self-examination. For once I agreed with Davida"I was the stuff that should be washed away.

12.

still waters run deep.

I'd killed Oliver. But then there was Trevor. I hadn't made the connection until now: two boys were dead from one family. Thinking about it caused my stomach to twist and knot.

I pinched myself, forcing my mind to focus on something else besides the horror film in my head. Taking a deep breath I glanced around once more. David had disappeared, but the overpowering scent of his cologne lingered, polluting my safe haven. It didn't really matter. The truth was that no place was safe anymore. I hightailed it to the stairs.

Common sense dictated that I couldn't hide from any of this, but my feet seemed to have other ideas. I walked down to the water and followed the sh.o.r.eline away from the Haven, Mel's Workshop, and the smell of David.

I was gagging on my guilt as I headed for the lake. I needed to escape, get out of my own head. I seriously thought about taking up drinking, but I was already too aware of how revealing my sober bursts of emotional creativity could be. Drinking at the Obmil could cause quite a show. I didn't want to be a sloppy mess. As it was, I could barely meet the eyes of the people who'd Delved with me.

I plodded forward. The soft, sandy beach was getting progressively rockier. Before I knew it, I was climbing boulders and hugging sheer rock walls. Sweat dripped from my brow, and my thoughts narrowed to a pinpoint of focus. My palm stung from gripping a knife-sharp handhold.

I tried to increase my speed and slammed my knee into the wall of granite. I could feel a bruise rising to the surface. I let out a hiss and rubbed the tender spot. I'd have to concentrate more in order to move forward safely. A chuckle escaped at the thought. "h.e.l.lo, dummy, you're dead and can't be injured." I said it aloud to myself. Old habits die hard. The living are wired for self-preservation and I'd never been able to shake those instincts over the course of my visits.

Once when I'd been eighty-year-old Arty, I was goofing around, trying to make silly faces at a child who wasn't interested in eating her dinner. In the middle of my theatrics, I tipped over my gla.s.s and it shattered on the floor. In the scramble to pick up the broken pieces, I'd sliced open the palm of my hand. Blood oozed through my fingers. Spots danced across my vision. Just as I began to panic, Mel asked me to stop for a moment and picture the wound healed. The image was in my head no more than a few seconds before the cut and the blood were gone. I asked her what would have happened if I hadn't pictured myself fixed. Would I have sat there bleeding and suffering forever?

She'd laughed, a.s.suring me that the process was automatic and would kick in by itself. We simply had the capacity to hasten our own ability to be healed.

A sigh escaped from my lips. I could create weather and buildings. I could make the world around me appear just like I envisioned it. I could make myself whole, too. Well, at least physically whole. Mel also seemed to think that if I tried hard enough, spiritual and emotional wellness could be mine for the asking. It sounded nice, but I had my doubts.

The rocky terrain leveled off as I moved away from the lake. I found myself walking through a shady forest of old growth trees. There was no path. This was clearly a manifestation of my own state of mind, proof that I had no idea what direction my life should be taking. I squinted. I'd stepped out of the cool and quiet darkness of the woods into the sunlight. The sudden movement from dark to light blinded me, so I took a step back and shaded my eyes with my hand.

In front of me was a pond. I could smell its earthiness now that I was paying attention to my senses. The outer edges were decorated with a filigree of lily pads and blossoms. On one side, across from where I stood, there was an army of reeds and cattails fencing in the perimeter. The bull's-eye ripples on the face of the water gave away the last location of a small frog. Directly across from me was a small peninsula of land that jutted out into the placid water. A tiny, cedar-roofed gazeboa"really just an awning over a bencha"caught my eye. I exhaled, not realizing until then that I'd been holding my breath.

The whole scene was beautiful, but I hadn't created it, so who had? This place was so achingly lovely and relaxing. It had to be someone's creation, but I'd never heard about it, so I must have stumbled across someplace private. There were some legendary places at the Obmil that souls pa.s.sed down. If I left here and told Julia about the pond, and later she came searching for it, she might actually find something that was pretty darn similar because my vision had become her vision. Not like that would actually happen, the way things were between us.

I scanned the banks of the pond. No one was here. I moved to the left and circled around. I felt as if I should be cautious, but the calmness of the place balanced out the strangeness of not knowing where the mysterious creator was.

That's when I saw him. Trevor was sprawled out on the very tip of the peninsula. He'd been hidden from view by a clump of wild gra.s.ses growing by the water's edge. His eyes were closed and he was soaking up the sun. He appeared relaxed, and obviously he was, if he could create such a tranquil place to rest. His chest was free of his usual taunts and it rose and fell slowly as he breathed. What was he doing out here? David had told me that he was off Delving with Mel. I wondered who'd been lying.

I edged closer, crouching down and moving like a ninja from one form of cover to another. I felt silly, but I couldn't resist seeing his face relaxed, devoid of its usual hostility.

When I reached the gazebo bench I stood on the seat and threw one foot up on the railing. Wrapping my arms around the side support I pulled myself upward and peered down at Trevor, not knowing how I would explain my awkward behavior if he woke up.

The sensation of wrongness. .h.i.t me immediately. At this height I could see the other side of his languid pose. His arm was tucked underneath him in an awkward position. He wasn't sleepinga"something wasn't right.

I leapt off the railing, reaching for him as I dashed down to the water's edge. As I moved closer I could feel my vision starting to disappear and my legs dissolving into fizzy tingles. Before I could reverse my forward momentum I realized that he was deep in a Delve and I was being pulled in by my proximity to him. As I tumbled into Trevor's memory, I felt my body fall against his. Great.

a a a I dropped into Trevor's memories like a cartoon anvil. He'd already settled into himself, and catching up with him so rapidly knocked the wind out of me.

He was back in the cemetery. He was alone this time, in the warm golden light of the morning sun that reflected off the jet-black marble bench that served as a headstone.

Trevor straddled the bench, one leg thrown over each edge as if he were riding a horse. His finger traced the words carved in the cool stone and then hypnotically moved around and around the O in Oliver.

Without warning his hand stopped. I could feel the tension as he sat rigid, barely breathing. His eyes remained on the O but his focus was elsewhere. What was it? I felt a small knot of fear as I wondered if he knew I'd dropped into his Delve and was spying on him. I didn't think it was possible, but I didn't really know for sure.

Just when I thought the antic.i.p.ation would drive me crazy, his gaze inched to the right. Now I could see that we were at the top of the hill, where a smattering of newer graves b.u.t.ted up against the tree line. This was where Oliver was located.

Trevor glanced into the woods. The rest of him never moved an inch.

I gasped as the object of his attention came into focus. Large brown eyes were visible in the shadows. They stood out against the deathly paleness of a facea"my face. Before I could digest that I was the broken-looking creature in the woods, Trevor tore off at a run, hurtling toward me. His voice thundered.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

13.

questions.

We were back at the pond and I was no longer sprawled on top of Trevor as I'd expected. Instead his heavy torso had me pinned to the ground. I could feel his rapid heartbeat through his chest, movement and adrenaline rus.h.i.+ng back into his body. My own heart was already racing from the Delve, but it was becoming faster. I wondered if I could've escaped undetected if Trevor hadn't somehow rolled onto me.

I didn't have time to speculate as he roared back to awareness. "Why are you spying on me?"

Did he mean here or in the cemetery or both? It didn't matter because I couldn't answer him anyway. I could barely breathe with him crus.h.i.+ng my ribs like twigs, and when I tried to suck in air, the weight of him compressed my lungs even further.

"Gahhhhh . . ."

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, pus.h.i.+ng off the ground next to me and rolling to the side. He sprung to his feet, agile like a cat. I, on the other hand, was trying to reinflate my lungs before I made any sudden movements. It occurred to me that I would require air to deal with Trevor.

I was less than graceful as I moved into an upright position, nearly tipping back over as I tried to free a stick from my tangle of hair. Trevor paced back and forth between where I sat and the gazebo. His feet were surprisingly stealthy considering the intensity of his movements.

He stopped abruptly and studied me. "Can you answer me now?" His voice was calmer but still had an edge to it. His face was all kinds of serious.

I wasn't sure how to answer. Like it would matter, anyway. My existence alone was enough to tick him off. I gave a seriously unattractive snort thinking about it. Realizing that there was nothing I could do to make him happy had released all the pressure that was building up inside me.

"All right, Trevor," I said, flying to my feet and dusting off the b.u.t.t of my pants. I felt a small quiver of power, as his eyes grew large at my unexpectedly confident response. Feeling braver, I strode toward him. Giddily I watched him take a step backward, then two.

What would he do when his legs pressed up against the wood of the gazebo? The thrill of dominance p.r.i.c.kled the hairs on the nape of my neck. Let's see how he likes being the prey for a change.

"First of all, no one is spying on you." With my arms crossed, I threw my hip out to emphasize the point. "It's called hiking. It's what I do to blow off steam and get my thoughts together. I accidentally came across the pond and . . ." How could I say it without giving him an even bigger ego? "Well, I was searching to see who'd created it. It was just so surprisingly beautiful." My eyes were slits, making sure he didn't mock my honesty. If he laughed even a little bit I'd throttle him. But his gaze stayed steady and he remained quiet so I continued. "That's when I found you and at first I thought you were sleeping. Then I noticed your arm was twisted and . . ."

He was easily swiveling the appendage around with the tiniest of smirks on his face. "Good as new," he said.

"Oh. Well, good. I'm glad to hear it." I unfolded my arms.