Dying to Remember (The Station #2) (4 page)

"I'm
sorry…I just…I didn't want this for you," I say weakly.

"It's
okay, really," he says.

"It's
not okay! At all," I almost spit the words out, causing Sloan to flinch.

"Crap.
I'm sorry, I just thought everything would work out, you know?"

He nods and
looks up in time to see a boy about our age walk by with his head hung low. His
pajama pants drag on the floor, threatening to catch on his heels with each
step. The boy never looks at us, just follows the subtle curve of the massive
fountain until he's almost out of sight. Eventually he slumps down to the
ground, using the rim of the fountain as a back-rest. The lost look on his face
is one I recognize. He's a new arrival, for sure.

I suddenly
hate this place. I hate that we are forced to live with the guilt of killing
ourselves. I hate that we are forced to remember what we lost, what we just
threw away. And I hate that we are forced to live with the guilt of failing our
Assignments.
It's not fair.
I'm angrily staring off into the white
nothingness of the Station 'sky' when Sloan reminds me of what we were talking
about.

"My Dad
died," he says quietly. I turn to look at him while he shifts his gaze
back to the refreshing water of the fountain.

"I'm
sorry, Sloan," I say.

"Stop
saying you're sorry. None of this is your fault, okay?" He splashes at the
water and I allow a smile to tug at the corner of my mouth.

"Okay,
sorry," I say deliberately, and we both quietly laugh. "So, is that
why you…you know?"

"No.
Well, I'm sure it was a part of it," he stops to look around us before
nervously running his hand through his hair.

"It's
okay, I've already been in your head, remember?" I try and smile
confidently at him.

"Right.
But it's still embarrassing, talking to
you
about my sex life and
stuff."

"Oh."

"I mean
is it even something you want to hear about?" He looks at me expectantly
and I can tell he doesn't want me to say 'no', though every fiber of my being
wants to rip my ears off my head at this very moment and sit on them so I don't
hear about him having sex with Sandy. Instead, I give him my best smile and nod
my head until he continues.

"Alright,
well. There was Sandy, but I guess you already know about that. Anyway, I was
dodging some calls from my Doctor for weeks. I honestly didn't think they had
anything to tell me that I didn't already know," he pauses, waiting for me
to encourage him to continue, "I guess I just ignored them, hoping they
would stop calling, you know? Well, they didn't. Eventually I picked up the
phone and…shit."

"And…
what
?"

He takes a
deep breath, and looks around us once more. "Piper, I was HIV positive.
And Sandy and I…the first time we
you know
, well I didn't use
anything."

I blink at
him. He blinks back at me before hanging his head so low his chin almost
touches the grey collar of his t-shirt. Now it's his turn to nibble on his
lower lip.

"Oh my
God, Sloan."

"Yeah,"
he says back.

"Did
she…?"

"Yeah,"
he answers.

Crap. Double,
triple crap.

"When
she told me she was positive, I don't know. I guess I just lost it. How could I
do that to her…to
Gabe
?" His eyes are swimming with emotion and now
I
have
to touch him. He lets me hold him while he cries quietly into my
shoulder. With one hand I stroke the soft curls of his dark hair, breathing him
in deeply while struggling to keep my voice calm and reassuring.

"It's
okay now, Sloan. You'll see, it'll be fine, I promise."
I hope.

Sloan is
still leaning on my shoulder when I see a familiar pair of brown loafers
standing to my right. I look up to see Niles with an expression somewhere
between sympathy and understanding spread out on his face like a mask.

He speaks
gently so as not to startle Sloan, "I thought I might find the two of you
here."

***

We pull away
from each other as if zapped by an electrical current. I'm not sure if he
pushes away so suddenly because the intimate moment was interrupted or because
he realizes he was crying on my shoulder.

"Hi
Niles," I say without making eye contact.

"Hello
Piper. Mr. Nash," Niles greets us with a nod in Sloan's direction.

"Have
you met my Intake Specialist, Sloan? Formally, I mean?"

"Um,
yeah. We've met," he says while slowly standing.

"Of
course, I guess I've missed a few things," I say dryly.

Niles smiles
warmly at me and for a moment I feel a pang of guilt for throwing insinuations
so loosely into the space between us. Eventually I stand too, uncomfortable
being lower than the two men.

"Piper,
I came to talk. Can I borrow you?" Niles asks.

"Sure.
Unless of course you plan on banishing me from the Station, at which case I'll
just stay here, if you don't mind," I say with a joking wave of my hand.

When Niles
doesn't answer me, I blanch.
Perhaps he
has
come to banish me.

"You can
stay here, I'll go," Sloan says before turning and walking away.

No
goodbye? Just walk away and leave me to suffer at the hands of the Powers That
Be? Lovely.

"Sorry
to scare him off. That wasn't my intention," Niles sits down on the edge
of the fountain seat with a soft sigh.

"I don't
think it was you, don't worry about it," I say as I take a seat next to
him. The cool water bubbles behind me as it flows by its own current around the
bowl of the fountain. I wonder briefly if I would get into trouble if I jumped
in.

"It sure
is enticing, isn't it?"

"What?"
I'm caught off guard by the question.

"The
water…it has a pull; an emotional beckoning. I feel it every time I'm near the
fountain too," he says softly while his eyes watch the slowly churning
water with love.

"I guess
so," I say with an indifferent shrug.

He laughs; a
gentle and breathy sound as he dips one finger into the fountain then flicks
the dripping water at me.

"Hey,"
I say, struggling not to laugh or smile.

I feel
like being moody. Can't you let me wallow for five minutes?
Another cold
droplet of water lands on my forehead, then dribbles slowly into my eyebrow.
I
guess not.

"Okay
fine. I get it, you can stop now," I say with a grin twitching the corners
of my mouth upward.

"It will
take him time, dear; to understand his place here and make friends."

"Friends?
We're talking about the same Sloan Nash, right? He's a wallflower," I
chuff.

"Yes,
that may be true, but even the most stubborn of the bunch can make friends…look
at you and Mallory, and Kerry-Anne. You could easily be a wallflower, but you
chose
to make friends."

"Like
you and Edith?" The question is out of my mouth before I realize I'm
actually saying it out loud. I open my mouth to apologize but Niles begins
laughing so hard his cheeks brighten.

"Piper,
when you've been here as long as Edith and myself, your own friendships may
change as well," he says with a wink.

"Right.
Speaking of Kerry-Anne, where
is
she? I feel like I haven't seen her in
ages," I ask, desperate to change the subject of Niles and his near-closet
love life with Edith.

"I'm sure
she's on a case. But you know I'll send her your way when she gets back."

"Thanks,
I'm sure she'll flip out when she hears about Sloan," I pause to see Niles
scanning the slowly moving crowd around the Consignment building, "I guess
because he's still here, he chose to become a Volunteer?"

"He has.
Though I think it may be some time before he's ready for his first case,"
he answers.

"What do
you mean?"

"Dear,
he will work out his issues in training, just like you did."

"Is that
what he's doing right now, training?"

"Piper,
you should know better than to ask me about another Volunteer."

Feeling
chastised, I glance away and chew on the inside of my cheek as Niles slowly
stands and uses both hands to smooth out the front of his sweater vest. Part of
his shirt sticks out the back, giving him a slight 'tail' and I look away,
afraid to giggle.

"But…"
he says over his shoulder as he starts moving away from me, "I think Mr.
Nash might be easy to find somewhere around the Training building. Now, run
along, back to Ones and be useful," he says with a grin. I smile at his
back, watching as he easily merges into the crowd around the Admissions
Department. It only takes seconds before I lose sight of his grey hair.

With just one
more dip of my fingers into the refreshing fountain water, I consider its
purpose at the Station. For now, I'm content to simply have it as a meeting
ground that I share with my friends. But in the back of my mind, something nags
at me; more questions revolve around the Station than answers. One day, one day
soon
, I will get the courage to demand them.

Until then
I'll dip my hand in the water.

I watch the
pearly ground with curiosity as I slowly make my way back to the Ones building.
Normally I don't stare down at my feet when I walk, but now that I do, I notice
the ground changes slightly after my feet touch it. There's a response beneath
the glassy surface, a subtle shift in pigment with each step. Just like the
walls, it seems the floor is an organic element that responds to stimuli. Even
though it's fascinating, I'm frustrated because I don't know what substance
could cause such a reaction.

I really
should have paid better attention in Science class.

Absolutely
nothing in the Ones building holds my interest for more than a few seconds
after I return from my emotional visit with Sloan. All I want is to find him
again and talk to him.
Right, you want to touch him again. Okay, maybe that
too.
I desperately try to push that thought out of my mind but it lingers
so close to the surface that eventually it's all I can think about. I envision
holding his hand…with his fingers tightly entwined with mine.

There's also
the distracting clean smell of his skin that reminds me of the ocean. And the
soft feel of his t-shirt with the slightly frayed collar that he used to sleep
in.
Stop it. Just stop.

I sigh
heavily while I walk another boy about twelve, down the long and wide hall,
distracted by my wandering thoughts and the sounds of our bare feet padding
softly along the ground. We've passed the half-way point before I even realize
he's crying. After I stop abruptly and blink down at his small form, I realize
that his shoulders are lifting and falling with each quiet sob.

Even after
kneeling down in front of him he won't look at me. Instead he swipes his hand
across his face, streaking snotty tears from one cheek to the other.

"Hey,
buddy. Look, it'll be okay," I say with my voice as soft as I can make it,
"I mean that you know; you will be fine. They are going to take very good
care of you over there, okay?"

He shakes his
head from side to side hard enough to toss his hair. When he looks up his eyes
are still leaking tears. "That's not why I'm crying," he says barely
over a whisper.

"Okay,
wanna talk about it?"

The young boy
plops down on the ground in front of me with a defeated look on his narrow
face, so I copy his posture and sit with my legs bent and crossed in between
us. I wait for him to glance up before nodding.

"I miss
River," his voice cracks on the name.

"Who's
River?" Another swipe of his small hand smears snot up the side of his
nose and I bite the inside of my lip to keep from grimacing.

"River's
my dog. I miss him." More tears. More snot.
So gross.

"Oh. He's…at
home still?" I ask, not sure of how to word my question. The young boy
simply nods and leans over his leg to pick at one of his toenails. "Maybe
you'll see River again."

He perks up
instantly, and stares at me with wide, brown eyes. "Really, you think
so?"

"Why
not?" I smile and tug the lower part of his shirt up to wipe his face
clean. "We can't have you crossing over with a messy face, now can
we?"

As I use the
inside of his shirt to clean his face, his cheeks turn a rosy pink. I'm sure
he's embarrassed but I don't blame him for being emotional. At times I want to
sit down on the floor and cry for what I left behind too. Be it my favorite
teddy bear that I had since I was three, or my Dad. That was the hardest part
of the Station, living with the guilt and loss. And the memories were already
starting to fade. Eventually, I wondered how much I would remember.

I hug the boy
close to me as we finish our walk down the hall, pausing momentarily before
opening the door for him. With a big smile on his face, he tucks his pointy
chin against my side as he gives me a final squeeze and I leave him with these
words, "If he can, River will find you again, you'll see. Now go and enjoy
what's next."

Light as
bright as the sun makes me squint as he passes through the door into a realm
beyond the Station, never to return again. I hope River is on the other side,
waiting for him.

***

It seems like
a lot of time passes before I see any of my friends or even Niles again. I'm so
set into my new routine that I have seen dozens of children come into and then
pass out of the Station and hardly a moment goes by that I'm not focused on
them. The little boy with the dog flipped a switch in me. These children need
my undivided attention, even if I'm just the hall monitor. So I give it to
them. We form relationships in the short minute-walk across the Ones building.
But they are friendships that will last in my heart forever.