Perfect (54 page)

longer. Can’t say that I want to hang

on to my childhood, because I can’t

remember having one, at least not

the kind a kid should have. But am I

really ready to be out on my own?

Ready or not, here I come, I guess.

Just not sure where I’m going.

Or if I’ll ever want to come home.

The Phone Rings

And caller ID says it’s Aspen Springs.

They don’t call here often. Three rings,

no one else answers, so I do. “Hello?”

It’s Dr. Starr, and she sounds shaky

when she asks to talk to one of my

parents. What’s Conner done now?

“Mom? Dad? Pick up the phone.”

Dad’s just coming in from a run.

He goes into the kitchen, and I’m

about to hang up when I hear Dr.

Starr through the receiver.
I … uh …

I don’t know how to tell you this

but … uh … there was an accident
.

Uh … it’s Conner. I’m afraid … he …

didn’t make it
. Didn’t make what?

What is she saying? Dad asks the same

question, and she answers bluntly,

He’s dead
. Dead. Dead? He can’t be

dead. My stomach swells with bile.

Dread. No. Not Conner. Not my brother!

I drop the phone. Don’t want to

listen to the details. I run downstairs,

find Dad collapsed on the cool

kitchen tile. One of the chairs is

overturned, like he missed it. “Dad!”

Daddy?” Tears streak his face,

and his hands shake so hard he can

barely hold the phone, let alone speak

into it. But he won’t let me take

it from him.
No
, he says.
Go find

your mother
. I turn around, run

blindly into the living room. Not

here. Upstairs, to her bedroom,

don’t bother to knock. She’s asleep,

and I don’t want to wake her. “Mo …”

Now it’s me that can’t talk. “Mom!”

She comes up out of her dreams,

and it’s all I can do to say, “Dad

needs you. Now,” before I crack

into a million pieces. Not Conner.

But Conner Is Dead

It wasn’t an accident. He stepped

over the edge of a very tall cliff.

Brought our world crashing down.

Smashing us into the rocks, right

along with him. We are zombies.

The living remains of the dead.

They flew him out of the wilderness.

Already cold. Almost as cold as Mom.

She is frozen. All emotion ice dammed

inside. She never even cried.
Someone

has to stay calm
, she said.
Someone has

to handle the details
. Will she ever cry?

Kendra

The Details

Of death are the fabric

nightmares are sewn from.

They weave

daylight grieving with

deep-of-night memory.

They chase

hope into the shadows,

leave it trembling there.

They menace

summer’s green dawning

with winter’s gray shroud.

They strike

like lightning. Electric,

unstoppable.

They stab

like wooden spears, drive

splinters into the heart.

Irredeemable

That’s what Mom called Conner when

I told her the news. No way to save him.

I don’t believe that. Everyone can be

saved, if they just have the right person

trying to save them. Right? How could

he want to die so badly? He looked okay

when I saw him that day at the movies.

Almost like his regular self. I didn’t see death

in his eyes. Didn’t see the desire

to leave this world behind. Leave us behind.

Goddamn you, Conner. You always

were a selfish prick. You got us this time.

Nailed us right to the wall. And

some of us will never heal completely.

I Got The News

From Cara, the day after they brought

Conner’s body back. Laid him on a chilled

slab to poke and prod and probably

dig around in his brain for some tumor

or other abnormality that might make

a perfect kid like Conner choose to die.

I was sitting by Jenna’s bedside,

watching her pick at her hospital food,

when Cara’s call came.
Um, Kendra?

I knew something was wrong from

the way her voice quivered.
I wanted you

to hear this from me.
She drew two

long raspy breaths.
Conner died

yesterday. He, um … committed.

My first thought was bullshit. Why

would you make up something like this?

Then I realized immediately that no

way would she. “Oh my God. Are you …”

I almost said “sure,” but of course

she was, so I finished it with, “all right?”

Not really. I have to go. The wake

is Saturday. Will you let people know?

“Definitely. Cara, if I can do anything …

help … anything … please call me, okay?”

I felt like someone had just smashed

into me with a semi truck. And I must

have looked like it too.
What?
asked

Jenna, eyes wide.
What’s wrong?

I couldn’t tell her. Repeating it would

make it real. The dam failed, and I cried.

The Wake Is This Evening

Mom’s taking me because I don’t

want to go by myself. We drive into

Reno, on the same highway as always,

passing the same trees. Same billboards.

Same buildings. But nothing

will ever be exactly the same again.

“Did you ever lose someone you loved?

I mean, did someone you loved ever die?”

Mom is quiet, remembering.
My first

boyfriend died in a car accident.

A drunk driver ran a red light, hit

him going sixty. It was horrible.

“Does it still hurt, thinking about

him? Does the pain ever go away?”

The pain diminishes over time.

But it still hurts thinking about him.

The pain is sawing me in two.

I can barely breathe, and part of me

doesn’t want to. “Did you ever want

to die enough to think about suicide?”

I think everyone considers it at some

point. But I never would have done it.

Too many people rely on me. Too

many people love me, and I would

never want to make them feel the way

you’re feeling right now. You know?

Life is precious, Kendra. Never throw

away a single second. And never

forget about the people who love you.

There is tremendous value in that.

Sean

Never

Again. Never again.

Few things create never again

like death. Biting the big

one,

and not talking burgers.

Kicking the bucket.

Taking a one-way trip

to

who-knows-where.

Is there a heaven? Hell?

I mean, who can really

say

what happens after

the lights go out? Is there

a “hello” after the final

good-bye?

Word Travels Fast

Along the “someone died”

grapevine. It might not

always be accurate, so

you have to do some

double checking to make

sure what you heard is

something close to true.

I heard about Conner