Devine Intervention (5 page)

T
HAT EVENING,
just as the last of the late fall sunlight drained from the sky, Heidi suited up in her basketball uniform, hoping to block a big shot, snag a key rebound, somehow redeem herself in the game. There was no chance of a wardrobe malfunction at least. Her shorts not only fit, they were made from polyester, a fabric that will, along with cockroaches and fruitcake, survive the apocalypse.

In the last three seconds of the game, her big chance presented itself. She stood below the net and caught a wild shot that rebounded off the rim. It
thwacked
her palms, and everyone in the gym roared, this huge sound that shook her organs and turned her fingertips to ice.

All she had to do was make a smart pass. She looked for someone open but couldn't find a hole, and time was running out. She tried to send the message from her brain to her arms to shoot. Scoring the game-winning point would be, in Jerome's words, epical.

Heidi stood there holding the ball.

Three!
The crowd roared.

She could hear her parents yelling.

“Be the ball!” her dad said. “Be the ball!”

She wanted to. But she didn't know how. Most days, she felt like she could barely fill her big, clumsy body.

Two!

Jerome's voice filled her ear.
Don't miss. For once, for the love of … just don't miss.

One!

She willed herself to press the ball toward the basket, bringing it closer to her face so she could give it everything she had. Then came the buzzer. She'd frozen, failed, wasted her chance. The crowd groaned; the air rushed from the room. Heidi looked up at the lights, bright stars surrounded by cages. They swam with watery rainbows.

Someone knocked the ball out of her hands. The murmuring crowd sounded liquid, distant. The basketball bounced away,
dub-dub
,
dub-dub
, like a heartbeat. It slowed. She saw colors and light. The heartbeat grew quieter and quieter. And then it stopped.

 

The next morning, shortly after Jiminy woke her with his dog breath, she forced herself out of bed and into her clothes. She'd take a walk to the pond. As often happened, she had a deep urge to step right out of her body, leave it behind for a while as if it were a pair of dirty jeans. Since there was no chance of that happening, she wanted to settle for fresh air, a change of scenery, and time away
from everyone who reminded her of what had happened at school, of everything that was wrong with her. Her parents had spent much of the previous night explaining to her how little it mattered what happened during the basketball game, a sure sign that it did matter. A lot. She also didn't want to be there when Rory showed them the video of her in the penguin suit. She was surprised he hadn't already.

She pulled on her jacket and, with Jiminy at her ankles, headed out the front door toward the street. The sun had barely cracked the horizon and it was near freezing out. She flipped her collar toward her ears, regretting she hadn't put on mittens or snow boots. Not even a hat. But she needed the air, and knew she'd never muster the guts to go outside again once she stepped back indoors, so she pressed on. Shaggy evergreens hunched their shoulders under thick coats of wet snow, and the sidewalks stretched before her, unshoveled, unwelcoming. Even the sky felt lower and moodier than usual.

The pond had always been a favorite place to forget. She thought of it as a gateway to peace. The water, usually still and green, rich with reflected images, had a way of calming her. It lay about twenty yards from a moderately busy road, ringed by a gravel path, hedged with rhododendrons, and it often froze during the darkest part of winter, shrinking beneath a silent lid of ice. A sagging blanket of snow covered everything around it like a sad, dirty quilt. Jiminy rolled in it like a lunatic.

“Stay close,” she said.

A man wearing a maroon coat with A
UDUBON
S
OCIETY
silk-screened on its back held a clipboard and pen. He looked at her, nodded, and said, “There's a brown creeper.”

Heidi looked down at her tan coat, wondering if he meant her. It would be a weird thing to say to a stranger, but maybe she was giving off the vibe. Or maybe he was some sort of mythological oracle guarding the gateway to peace, sent there to judge anyone foolish enough to go for a walk in such lousy weather.

She half expected Jerome to say something about the creeper comment. Ordinarily, he wouldn't let anything like that slide. But he was oddly silent.

Overhead, a bird sang, wrapping the pond in a sweet, silver thread of sound.

“See, see,” the bird said.

Jiminy galloped down to the pond and romped on the ice.

“Jiminy!” She hoped he'd obey so she wouldn't have to walk all the way there to get him. He ignored her. She stepped onto the ice with one foot, then the other. Jiminy wasn't nuts. It felt terrific to be walking where she usually couldn't.

“Should you be out there?” the man in the coat said.

Heidi ignored him. What did he know? He'd called her a creeper. In all likelihood, the ice was fine. It had been freezing all week. Either way, she had to get her dog. She walked to the middle of the pond and whistled. There, the ice was no longer white but gray — the color of oysters and things drawn in pencil. She filled her lungs with cold air and exhaled, making her very own cloud.

The ice sighed beneath her feet.

“Jiminy! Come on, boy.” He glanced at Heidi and ran in the opposite direction, up the bank, and off the pond altogether. That was a relief. She looked down at her shoes just as a sharp, low
crack
filled her ears. Then came a stuttering
creak
followed by an ear-ringing
snap
.

“See,” the bird said.

Heidi froze.

Then the pond opened its mouth and swallowed her. She couldn't breathe. Her arms tingled and went numb. The best she could do was reach toward the sky, which unwound ribbons of light toward her through a sparkling cloud of tiny bubbles.

Where was Jerome? Why wasn't he saying anything?

The freezing water unlatched her brain and spun it around in her head. With her arms outstretched, she found herself dancing the tango, playing basketball. There was a sound, a
dub-dub
, of dancing feet and bouncing balls. The sound distorted and slowed. She saw colors and light and wondered why she'd never thought to draw an underwater city. Something like Atlantis. The look of the world through green-gold water was incredible. If she could've captured the bends of shadow and light, it would have been her most spectacular piece yet. Jerome would've liked it.

In the distance she heard him call her name. He sounded worried. How sweet. And then another voice, telling her what she wanted to hear.
Let go
. She did, releasing the cold, the light, the noise. All of it ceased, and for the first time she could remember, she felt completely and utterly at peace.

I
SHOULD'VE BEEN
watching over Heidi when she went out onto the pond, but I wasn't because Howard had rung up my skull phone, which is what we call the implants in our heads that let us communicate with each other. He wanted to talk about dead cats again. That made one of us.

I listened to him just long enough to not make him mad. Then I pretended I was in a patch of bad reception and hung up. I turned around in time to see Heidi walk across the pond after Jiminy. And I guess the ice wasn't thick enough or she wasn't thin enough, because there was this big
snap!
and her hair sort of flipped up like it was attached to a string in the sky and then —
woop!
— she was gone and there was nothing but a big hole, and then time speeded up and it was only this guy in a puffy coat standing around the edge of the lake, holding a clipboard,
looking at Heidi's dog like,
Are you gonna get her? I just ate and I don't want a cramp or anything.

People suck when they think no one's watching.

Here's the thing. Someone's always watching.

Heidi!
I called her name like it would make some sort of difference. I stared at that hole in the ice, hoping her hand would shoot out. Why wasn't the guy calling 911? I moved next to him and broke the rules and shouted the idea in his ear, which had so much hair inside, it looked like a shower drain.

Once he got over being scared out of his pants, he dropped his clipboard, stuck a hand in his pocket, and fished around for his cell phone. He first tried to dial with his glove on. He poked the buttons like some sort of ape before he finally ripped his glove off with his teeth and threw it on the snow.

There was a
ring-ring
and a 911 operator's voice said, “This is 9-1-1. What's your emergency?” and then he said, “I am reporting an emergency.”

The slowness of it was killing me. I went closer to the hole and looked down. Her hair swished in the water. Her eyes were open. There were no bubbles rising from her mouth. Her arms reached up, like maybe she'd let go of a ball or a kite and she wanted it back. The only sound that cut through the cold air was a stupid bird that wouldn't shut up.

I wasn't going to be able to pull her out. When you're a soul, you can't lift big things, like people. If you really try or you're experiencing a major attack of feeling, you can knock something small off a table: a pencil, maybe, or
a piece of paper. It takes everything you've got to move just that little bit of earthly stuff.

Keeping her safe was my last chance of staying out of Hell, so I couldn't let her go without a fight. I yelled her name and jumped in, and the water was beyond cold. The way my chest hurt reminded me of what it felt like to be alive, which almost made things worse.

It was hard to see underwater, and I fumbled around for what felt like forever. Then her fingers wrapped around mine. I thought I was maybe imagining it until I felt her glide through the water toward me. I pulled her close, reeling her in like a fish, and I wrapped one arm around her back. I'd had a lot of fantasies about the two of us that close, and I'd always tried to put them out of my mind. It seemed wrong. Figures that I'd get my wish like this.

With her head resting on my shoulder, I clawed back toward the light, using my free arm, kicking my legs like there was no tomorrow. I didn't know how I was doing it, but I
was
doing it. I was saving her. I was her guardian angel and I'd come through.

It was like a miracle. No, it
was
a miracle.

For a second I imagined the looks on the faces of the guys in rehab when I told them how I defied the laws of celestial physics and dragged a hundred-and-seventy-pound girl out of her watery grave. Howard would probably Chevy his pants. The rest of the guys would have to respect me for this. I might even ascend to Heaven, as long as no one spent too much time thinking about how it was my fault she'd fallen through the ice in the first place on account of I hadn't been watching her.

We busted through the surface of the water. Her head was still on my shoulder and I tried not to think about what would happen if I couldn't get her breathing again. In the distance, an ambulance wailed, but I didn't waste time waiting for it. I shoved Heidi up onto the ice, which was a lot easier than I thought it'd be, but I didn't question it because you don't Darcy Parker miracles when they happen.

I hauled my own self out of the water and dragged her off the ice and onto the snow a good ways away from the pond so there was no way she'd fall in again. Jiminy went nuts.

“I know, boy, I know,” I said. “We gotta do the mouth-to-mouth thing.” Jiminy barked at me like he understood.

Her face was still and her lips were blue and they were open enough so I could see the tips of her teeth. I felt panicky, but I'd seen on TV how they revive people. I could do it. I had to.

I unzipped her jacket and palmed her chest and pushed a couple of times. Then I moved around to the side of her and put one hand on her forehead and one hand under her chin. Her skin was cold and wet. Not how I imagined what it would be like to touch her.

Jiminy barked again. I leaned in, being careful with my forehead arrow, and made like I was going to take in a big gulp of air, not sure how well it would work on account of my not breathing anymore. Jiminy barked again and whisked around me like he was a little broom that needed to tidy the snow.

The siren got louder and I looked up. Hallelujah chorus time. The fire department could take over. Two guys in blue jumpsuits ran out and started putting on wet suits and breathing gear.

I waved them over. “Right here!”

Even after all this time, I still sometimes forget no one but Heidi knows I'm here.

Jiminy ran up to them and yapped his little head off. One of them looked our way, but he didn't come over. Instead, he was talking to the big guy with the clipboard. Ignore me, fine. But why were they ignoring Heidi? Couldn't they see she was right there?

“She went in there,” Clipboard Guy said. He pointed at the ice. “I told her not to walk on the pond. What a shame.”

I wanted to punch his neck for not actually helping, but it wouldn't do any good. I got myself together and turned back to my girl. I pressed my mouth to hers and gave it everything I could. Her lips were cold and had the sweet and dirty taste of pond water. I pushed on her chest again, but she didn't open her eyes or anything.
Please, please.
I leaned in, breathed into her again, giving it everything I had. Her lips moved under mine and I hopped away from her like she was a sparking power line about to rain down on the whole wet wreckage of me.

Her eyes opened and she turned her head my way. Then she coughed and pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking a couple of times real slow.

“Heidi,” I said. “Thank goodness.”

“Who are you? What happened?” She sat all the way up and touched a finger to her lips. Without thinking about it, I touched mine too, and I felt my skin get warm. “You fell into the pond, but it's okay because I pulled you out.”

“Are you —” she said. “Wait. You sound exactly like the voice in my head. Like Jerome. What happened? Why can I see you? Why were you —” She touched her lips again, then her cheeks. “And oh my God, that arrow — does it hurt?”

I started to explain. Then I saw her eyes get huge, so I turned around to see what she was looking at. Holy Hell. Once I knew what she'd seen, I figured out what had happened. It felt like there'd been an avalanche in my skull.

“Is that —” she said. “Is that … me?”

She pointed at the ambulance guys, who'd made their way out of the pond and stood by the edge of it. Water streamed off their wet suits into the snow. Heidi's body hung between them. Her head tipped back and strips of hair dragged on the ground, and if my heart were still beating, it would've cracked open my chest and launched itself into the snow like a bleeding Molotov cocktail.

It took me a while to get the words out. “Yeah. That's — that's you.”

My throat filled with concrete. I hadn't saved her. Not even close. I'd pulled her soul right out of her body and any second now she was going to
whoosh
away from me. She'd go to Heaven, I'd go to Hell, and that would be that. Sixteen years of her being with me, and it was over. Forever. For both of us.

I couldn't feel my hands or feet, and I couldn't find any of the words that I wanted to say to her, and when I could focus again, the ambulance was driving away, and Heidi was running after it, with Jiminy at her heels.

“Wait!” she yelled. “WAIT!”

They didn't.

I braced myself, and for the first time in I don't know how long, I prayed to the Creator. Not that I'd ever seen him or was even sure he really existed. But I prayed, and I meant it.