The Samantha Project (6 page)

“No. I really don’t feel very good. I just want to stay in bed.”

“Okay. I hope you feel better. I’ll stop by later and check on you.”

“No, you don’t need to do that. Go to the party. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

“Are you sure? Are your parents still going out?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m dying here. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Okay. I’ll let you sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I hung up with Colin just as Mom came into my room. “Aren’t you going out with Colin?”

“No. I decided not to go out. My headache won’t go away.”

“Is it that bad? Maybe your dad and I should stay home with you.”

“No. Just go. I’ll be better soon. I just need to sleep.”

She came over and felt my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Must just be a headache. Did you take an aspirin?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Dad walked in. “What’s wrong, Sam? Still don’t feel good?”

“I’ll be fine.”

They both looked at me and then at each other, deciding whether or not to go out.
 

“If it gets worse, I’ll call you on your cell phone,” I said.

“Well, okay. But you’re sure you don’t want us to—”

“Yes, Mom. Now go.”

She came over and kissed me on the forehead. “Love you. We won’t be out late.”

Dad did the same. “Love you, honey. Feel better.”

They left and I snuggled under the quilt on my bed and drifted off to sleep. I woke up a few hours later and glanced at the clock. 11:55. Mom and Dad should have been home an hour ago.
 

I got up and looked out the window. An icy sleet was coming down, which explained why they were late. Dad always drove really slow in bad weather. It would take them forever to get home. I went back to bed, but minutes later, the doorbell rang, startling me.
 

It was midnight. Who comes to the door at midnight? I instantly felt my heart racing. I ran to the window and saw a police car across the street with nobody in it. My heart raced even faster.
 

The doorbell rang several more times, followed by knocking. I ran down the stairs to the door. Looking through the peephole, I saw a cop. An old guy, with droopy eyes and thick, white hair. I opened the door and looked at him, trying to decipher his expression but his face gave no answers.

“Are you,” he looked down at a small pad of paper, trying to hide it from my view. “Samantha Andrews?”

“Yes—yes, I go by Sam,” I said anxiously, suddenly feeling out of breath. “What are you doing here? Is there something wrong? Am I in trouble?” I tried to imagine what I—Miss Never Does Anything—could possible do to summon the police. I was desperate to make this visit about me.

“Samantha, um, I mean Sam.” The old man sighed. “It’s your parents. They were on Stevens Point Road. There was night construction going on and they just didn’t see the barriers. Your parents—.” He paused for what seemed like forever.

“Just tell me!” I yelled at him. I normally wouldn’t yell at a total stranger, but at that moment fear trumped manners. “What is it? Their car hit a tree? They’re in the hospital? What?”
 

Silence. He put his head down, then looked up at me again.

I couldn’t take the delay any longer. “Just tell me where my parents are!”

“I’m sorry. They’re gone.” And with that, he just looked at me. My outburst had obviously convinced him that I could take the news and the words just came out. Words that would change my life forever, said in an instant.
 

Although part of me knew this scenario was possible the moment I saw the officer at my door, I had had some glimmer of hope that it was something less serious. That maybe my parents’ car had a flat tire or broke down on the side of the road. But the deep emotion in the officer’s face and those few and final words confirmed my worst fears.
 

“Do you want me to call someone?” The officer’s voice seemed distant now. Like the way voices sound when you’re underwater, all muffled and incoherent. “You can’t stay here alone tonight. Do you have a relative nearby? A friend to stay with?”

I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. It was too many words, too many different thoughts to handle all at once. I just wanted him to go away.
 

Tears began pouring down my face. “It can’t be true! You’re lying!” I yelled at the officer. “Get out of here! Leave!”
 

“But we need to contact someone who could come stay with you. Now do you have someone . . .”

“Sam! Sam, I’m here,” Dave came running up to the front door, tossed his car keys on the doorstep, and put his arms around me. “Honey, I’m so sorry. A friend of mine at the station just called. I raced over here as soon as I heard.”
 

The officer turned to Dave. “So you’ll be staying with her?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m her uncle. Well, a close friend of the family.”

“All right. Well, I need to . . .”

“Sam, go inside,” Dave walked me back into the house. “I’ll handle this. I’ll be right in.”

I gently shut the door and slumped to the floor. The house was silent except for the clock in the living room, which seemed to be ticking at an annoyingly loud volume. I sat there listening to the officer talk to Dave.
 

“I’ll need you to come down to the station tomorrow,” the officer said. “Here’s my card. Give me a call tonight if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I heard the officer walk away. Dave opened the door and almost tripped over me. I remained on the floor unable to move. My tears had stopped briefly as I tried to come up with a rational explanation for all of this. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe the police messed up and got the names wrong.

I looked up at Dave. “That police officer. What he said—it can’t be.” I was finding it hard to breathe and even harder to talk. “He’s wrong. It can’t be them.”
 

“I’m so sorry, honey.” He kneeled down and put his arms around me. The tears returned, even stronger this time. “I know,” he said, hugging me tight. His voice was shaky. I knew he wanted to cry, too, but was trying to be strong for me. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m so, so sorry.”

I don’t remember what happened after that.
   

I woke up the next day on the sofa, covered in blankets. I heard Dave’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yes, I know, but I don’t see why
I
can’t just come to the station. Why do you have to make this even harder on the girl? She’s just a teenager. It’s too much for her.” Dave’s voice sounded angry. “I may not be a blood relative but I’m like one of the family, dammit! Who the hell are you to tell me I can’t take care of this for Sam? Do you really want that to be the last memory she has of her parents?” His voice lowered with that last sentence, worried that I might overhear.

“Fine, yes. I’ll see you then.” Dave hung up and I could hear him quietly sobbing. The loss of my parents was devastating for Dave. My parents and I were his only family. He had no living relatives and had never been married.
 

I went and sat at the kitchen table with him. His head was buried in his hands, but it shot up when he noticed I was there. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. “Sam, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What time is it?”
 

“Don’t worry about the time. You sleep as much as you need to. I’m going to take care of everything. You have enough to deal with.” He took my hands in his. “Sam, about what happened last night. I’m so sorry that officer had to be the one to tell you. It should have been me. Those idiots at the station didn’t even think about what they were doing. And then to just—”

I cut him off, not wanting to relive the moment again. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I got up to get a glass of water. My sadness had turned into denial. I was sure it had all been some awful nightmare.

“Sam, we need to talk about it. Maybe not right now, but later, when you’re ready. I know you don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to either.” Dave’s voice trembled. “Part of me thinks they’re gonna come walking through that door, any minute—”
 

“They’re not gone! Stop saying that!” I screamed at him. “It was a just a big misunderstanding!”

Dave got up and forced me into a hug. “Shhhh. I know you want to think that, Sam. And I wish it were true. Oh, how I wish it were true.”
 

He walked me over to the sofa and we sat down. I started sobbing again. “We had plans today. We were gonna go downtown and see the Christmas tree display. Mom was so excited.”

“I know,” he said, hugging me again and not letting go. “I’m so sorry, Samantha.”
 

I could see Mom and Dad in my head, telling me goodbye just hours earlier. “Oh my God! I did this! It’s all my fault!” I pushed Dave away.

“What are you talking about?”

“I told them to go. Last night. I had a headache and they wanted to stay home. But I wouldn’t let them! I kept telling them to go. The accident is all my fault!”

The realization made me cry even harder. “They didn’t want to go! Why did I tell them to go?”

Dave took hold of my shoulders, forcing me to face him. “This is NOT your fault. Don’t you ever think that, Sam.”

“It IS my fault. Don’t you get it? They wouldn’t have gone out if it weren’t for me. They’d still be here.”

“Listen to me. This had nothing to do with you. Nothing. Do you understand?” His tone was more forceful than I expected. It was almost like he knew more about the accident that he wasn’t telling me.

“No, I don’t understand! I don’t understand any of this! Why didn’t I make them stay home? Why were they out so late? Why didn’t they call me? So I could at least say goodbye. I didn’t even get to tell them I loved them.”

Tears poured from my eyes. Dave hugged me again and started to cry himself. “Oh, honey. They knew that you loved them.”

He wouldn’t let me go until my crying started to slow. “I wish I knew what to do for you, Sam. Tell me what you need. Tell me what I can do.”

“I want them back,” I said quietly. “I
need
them back. I can’t not have them in my life.”

“They’ll always be in your life. You’re a part of them. I see them in you every time you laugh or smile or . . .”

“No! I need them here! Right now! Just please, please get them back.” The crying started again.

Dave was at a loss. He desperately wanted to help me, but he didn’t know how. And at the same time, he was trying to deal with his own shock and grief.

I continued to cry as Dave sat quietly next to me. After about an hour, he finally spoke.
 

“I really don’t want to leave you, but I have to head down to the station now. I have some things to take care of that can’t wait.”

“What? Well, I’m going with. They’re
my
parents and I should be doing this,” I snapped at him, unsure what exactly it was he, or I, would be doing.
 

“Sam, they’re taking me to the—the morgue. They found their IDs in the car, but still, they want someone to identify the . . .” He stopped, not wanting me to hear my parents referred to as “bodies.” “And there are some papers to sign at the police station.”

My mind started to imagine scenes from TV of people uncovering bodies under white sheets at some dim-lit morgue. Dave was right. I couldn’t handle that.
 

“What about the funeral?” I don’t know why I brought up a funeral when it was the last thing I wanted to think about. The words just came out.

“Sam, I’m going to take care of all of that.” Dave sounded like a stern parent now. “You just stay here and rest. I phoned Colin last night after you went to sleep. I told him what happened. He wanted to come right over, but I asked him to wait until this morning. He’ll be over in a few minutes.”
 

Dave went to the door and put on his coat, which was still on the floor from last night. “I’ll be back soon. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”
 

He waited for a response but I didn’t answer so he opened the door to leave. “Here’s Colin, now. Good. I’ll see you soon, Sam.”

Dave left and Colin came in, closing the door behind him. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night. He took off his coat and came over to sit down next to me. I didn’t move but he pulled me into a hug.
 

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” he whispered into my ear. I snuggled into the warmth of his chest, not wanting to let go.

Colin and I sat silently for several minutes. I could tell he was struggling to figure out what to say. When he finally spoke, it startled me. “I still can’t believe this. I mean, I’ve known your parents forever and I think of them as . . .” His voice trailed off.

He took my hand. “Talk to me, Sam. Say something. Anything.” I looked up at Colin, his warm brown eyes so full of care and concern.
 

“I can’t deal with this, Colin. I just can’t.” I snuggled into his chest again. “I know this happens to other people, but I don’t know how they go on.”

“You need to give yourself time. A lot of time. And you have to let me help. And let Dave help. And Allie. We’ll all be here for you.”

I didn’t respond.

“I know you, Sam. And I know you’re gonna try to act like you’re fine when you’re really not. You’ll try to push us away. You always do that when people try to help. Like you’re so strong and don’t need anyone.”

“That’s not true. When I . . .”

“It
is
true. And I know that you don’t like people seeing you sad or angry. Like we’re not gonna stick around if you show us that side of you. But you’re wrong. We’ll still be here, even if you’re screaming at us. You know that, right?”

I didn’t know that. And I didn’t believe it. Even when people said that, I still didn’t trust that it was true. I don’t know why. For some reason I always had this idea that negative emotions should be hidden. After all, who wants to be around people who are sad or angry?

“Can we just not talk right now?”

“Sure,” he hugged me closer.

“You can watch TV if you want.” I turned on the TV and repositioned myself in Colin’s arms. I gave him the remote and fell asleep.