When I Find Her (17 page)

I squint at him. He’s got gray hair again. My senses leap with joy. Could it be I’m back where I should be?

“Luke?” Mom repeats. “Are you okay?”

I swivel to her and when I see her as she should be, I am overwrought with relief. I could kiss her but that would probably startle her. I orient myself – I’m in a time-travel journey, haven’t had leukemia yet, and they don’t know I will.

I’m going to see Jennifer again. I’m going to find her.

“I’m feeling better,” I say to Mom, gaining my bearings. “I’m fine.” I’m back at Grandpa’s house in Parry Sound. The blue waters of Georgian Bay sparkle in the distance.

I’m fourteen years old and alive.

One of the paramedics whispers to the other. “We’ve got to take him in. They said he lost his pulse for two minutes.”

Whoa, I had a near-death experience. I
was
in Heaven.

And you know what? It wasn’t so bad. It was beautiful.

“What’s all the smiling about, Luke?” My dad crouches behind my mom.

“I’m just feeling better,” I say.

Ivy and Simon aren’t around. I recall she dragged him away for a walk to look for the boys across the street. I guess they haven’t come back yet. They must be far if they didn’t hear the ambulance arriving.

“What happened?” says my mom.

I saw Heaven
.

Wow. I saw Heaven
.

Should I tell them that I died and came back? Who would believe me? They all look so frightened that I’m afraid my explanation would freak them out. And would it breach the rules of my time traveling?

Heaven was beautiful. Death was full of life.

Grandpa was there along with Grandma. Rusty. Man, Rusty. And countless other people I am destined to meet one day. Viking cousins who can teach me how to row a boat and slam balls with me.

And yet…I didn’t imagine it, did I?

“Mom, do we have Vikings in our family tree?”

“What? No. What are you talking about?”

Then it was all a dream?

“We do on my side of the family,” says Dad. “Apparently a great band of seafarers.”

Man, I knew it! “Names? Do you know names?”

He shrugs. “Never bothered to look up my ancestry.”

For God’s sake, our last name is Eric! It would be right next to Eric the Red in the phone book!

“You should, Dad. I think our family discovered North America before Christopher Columbus did.”

One of the paramedics slings a bag full of ice gently onto my head. “Concussion?” he says to the other.

I guess I sound crazy.

I push away the ice bag. “Look, I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” I say to the group. At this point in my life, I’ve never been to a hospital as a patient, since I haven’t yet been diagnosed with leukemia. “I tripped and fainted. That’s all.”

They stare at me.

My dad gets off the grass and stands to full height. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine.”

My mom crosses her arms. She looks like she’s going to blow a bolt. “But Tom, he should be checked out. Dad had to give him CPR!”

Grandpa resuscitated me?

“I agree with your mother,” says Grandpa with his oxygen tank beside him. “As much as I hate hospitals, you should go.”

Dad’s eyes flicker over me. “I don’t like hospitals, either, Luke, but they’re right. Just get checked out, okay?”

“We’re here already, Luke,” says the female paramedic. “Let us help.”

What would they find in their testing? Would blood tests show leukemia? Would they catch it early enough that my chances of recovery are greater? Would an X-ray reveal a broken rib?

“I’m going to be all right,” I tell them nervously. “But if you insist…I’ll-I’ll go.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The tests reveal nothing. Nothing majorly wrong. No abnormal white blood cell count. No fractured ribs. No concussion. After anxiously thinking about it, I’m relieved that the first signs of leukemia haven’t appeared. It means maybe the doctors
do
catch it early enough when it finally does present itself. Maybe my remission
will
stick. Wouldn’t that be something?

“Sorry to waste everyone’s time,” I say to my family waiting in the Parry Sound Emergency Department with me. Four hours gone.

“Don’t be silly,” says Mom, gathering her purse and signaling to the others that we’re ready to leave. Only Grandpa, in bathrobe and pajamas, rode with me in the ambulance to the unfamiliar hospital. My parents stayed behind to search for Simon and Ivy before everyone wound up here.

“What a wonderful waste of time to know that you’re okay,” Mom finishes.

My brother and sister shuffle out of their seats, glum and pale. They probably got in trouble for taking off like they did, and I feel bad about that. My dad’s strangely quiet. Mom and Grandpa have been the most talkative, trying to keep me upbeat, but the wrinkles on their foreheads are extra heavy. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.

For the drive home, I help Grandpa squeeze into the back of the van beside me. I anchor his oxygen tank between us and the seat ahead that Simon and Ivy are sharing. They’re wearing earbuds and listening to tunes. My parents are talking quietly in the front, so me and Grandpa have our own space and privacy.

“Does the lump on your head hurt?” asks Grandpa.

I touch the throbbing spot. It’s the size of an egg. “Not too bad.”

Wow, I saw what he looked like young. He was handsome. My mom looks a lot like him – the wide nose, high forehead, ample eyelids.

Grandpa grows pensive. “It’s not easy going back and forth to that place.”

I know what he means. I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals myself.

His breathing becomes raspy. “I’m glad you came to visit me. I can feel it, Luke, I can feel that I’m slipping…. This might be the last time you all see me alive.”

My heart shrinks as though it’s been plunged in ice. He knows that his time is coming? I press on. “We’ll be back, Grandpa. Don’t give up.”

He peers out the window and doesn’t answer.

“Do you believe in Heaven?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s not the best topic to talk about with a kid. Your mother would be mad.”

“Yeah. She’d probably holler, ‘
Grandpa!
’”

He chuckles. After a moment, he sighs. “I’ve lived a good life, you know. I’ve gone where I wanted to go. I married a good woman. And yet I have to ask. Why do I have to die?”

I’m startled by the question because it’s the same one I asked him in Heaven.

He looks at me like we’re equals and he honestly wants to hear my opinion.

The answer comes to me as clear and sharp as the colorful rainbows of light I traveled through.

I smile at my discovery.

“That’s not the right question, Grandpa. It’s not ‘Why did I die?’ It’s ‘Why did I live?’”

“Why did I live?” Grandpa repeats.

He rubs his elbow through his robe and peers out the window again, reflecting on it.

I answer the question for myself. It seems crystal clear. I’m here to share in the love and beauty of the world. I’m alive to smell the pine needles on the trees. To feel the grass blades between my toes. To make someone laugh. To sit proudly next to my grandpa, dressed in his plaid robe and breathing through his oxygen tube. To cherish him with all my heart and this special moment between us. I’m alive to feel the setting sun beating down on us, the moon rising above the oak trees, the comfortable lull in our conversation.

I’m here to share in the love of my parents who at this very moment are trying to help my grandfather and me out of our dire medical problems. I’m here to share my life with my sister and brother and cousins and friends. As flawed as our time together sometimes is, it’s why I exist.

I’m here to absorb, and
create
, love and beauty, and hope that some of what I create survives me.

How shall I do that? Well…I’m here on this earth to love Jennifer.

I
will
find her.

“I lived for her,” says Grandpa. “My beautiful Eliza.”

“Grandma is beautiful.”

He glances at me.

“From her pictures,” I hasten to explain. “I noticed she was pretty.”

He nods. His bathrobe brushes the window. “I’m very sorry that she never got a chance to meet any of her grandchildren. To meet you, Luke.”

“I think we’ll all meet again. In another life.”

“In Heaven?” says Grandpa.

“Why not?”

I wait for a bout of sarcasm, but none arrives.

“That would be nice,” he says.

∞

If I don’t take my red dice and temporarily leave Grandpa’s place within the next half hour before I overstay my six-hour time limit, I might die again.

It takes everyone a while to say good night, though, and get out of the kitchen. I kick at the bottom of my sleeping bag and turn over on Grandpa’s sofa. The TV hums in the background. Scenes flash on the screen, illuminating the walls around me.

I have two choices once I get to real time.

One, I could try to immediately return to this time and finish off the family trip. Burgen said the six-hour wait time between time-traveling intervals can shorten the more often I do this. Or two, I could remain in real time. If I remain in real time, however, will everyone wake up in the morning here and wonder where I’ve gone? How would my absence partway through my third journey affect my timeline?

I better not take a chance. I think I need to finish my time here for it to become a part of everyone’s memories.

I kick out of my sleeping bag. I’m still dressed in my clothes because I knew I had to do this. I remove my red dice from my pocket, stand in the middle of the room and recall the smell of thick gasoline. I say the last words I did when I traveled
here
, in order to get me back to real time.

“I’m not sure we accept credit cards from England. I’m not sure we accept credit cards from England….”

“Luke?” It’s my grandpa’s voice, but too late because I leave his house, traveling through time...

I fall onto my bedroom floor in real time. My head snaps to the digital alarm clock on my night table. Three-fifty-six in the middle of the night.

Grandpa saw me leaving. I have to go back
right now
. If I can!

They won’t miss me here. They’ll think I’m still sleeping.

I hold the red dice, inhale the sickly smell of gasoline again. “I’m not sure we accept credit cards from England. I’m not sure we accept credit cards from England….”

My head spins, light cascades, smells choke me. I land with a thud on Grandpa’s living room carpet and the red dice roll out of my hand. It worked! I gag from the smell of donuts. Light from the TV flickers against the sofa.

I did it! I didn’t have to wait out the six hours in real time.

I pivot and see Grandpa facing away from me. He swivels, his nasal tubing twisting on his face. “Did you just...?”

Nervous, I shrug. “Did I just what?” I have to put my hand to my nose due to the strong smell of strawberry jelly donuts.

“I could have sworn...” He rubs his eyes.

It’s wrong of me to take advantage of the fact that Grandpa’s slower than he used to be. His eyesight isn’t as sharp. It’s easier to fool him. But I don’t have much choice. I’d be putting him in danger if I tell him the truth.

I spot the red dice on the floor under the coffee table. I need to return them safely to my pocket. Except when I reach for the Vegas apples, Grandpa spots them. I rush and tuck them away.

He blinks. Neither of us moves.

What exactly did he witness? What does it matter if he saw the red dice? They were in semi-darkness. They’re unique, but in this dim lighting, I’m sure they look like a million other dice in every household across North America.

Either way, I can’t tell him anything! Burgen said quite clearly if I divulge my time traveling to anyone in anything but real time, it would be dangerous. Grandpa would lose all of his emotional memories. Would he forget he ever loved Grandma? Judging from how kind he was with me in Heaven, he’d probably understand about my time traveling more than anyone else. But I can’t do it to him.

“Need some help with something, Grandpa? Want to play some cards?”

“Luke, I think...what just happened here?”

“The remote control fell,” I say, reaching over to the floor to pick it up. “Want to watch some TV with me? There’s a good horror show on. Dracula meets Frankenstein.”

“No, no thanks.” He’s changed his pajamas since returning from the hospital. These ones are bright blue. “Came for a cup of tea. Chamomile. Helps me sleep.”

“I’ll make it for you.”

“Okay. Why are you still dressed, Luke?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I went for a walk.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll get that tea for you. Where do you keep the kettle?”

He shows me and we settle into the chairs around the table. During the next hour, I ease into our conversation and slowly relax. I’m highly amused by his stories of my mother when she was growing up and her love of swimming. She won some major ribbons in high school. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t know she could do the butterfly stroke, or dive from fifty feet.

Grandpa’s tired again. I don’t want him to leave me, I want this time to stretch out for hours more, but I carry his oxygen tank up the stairs and help him into bed.

∞

I had to time travel two more times and back before we head home from Grandpa’s place. In both cases, I did it from the privacy of the bathroom so that no one would see. I didn’t come out until my sense of smell acclimatized.

My parents, brother, and sister now stand at the edge of Grandpa’s driveway saying goodbye. I won’t see him alive after this. My chest shakes. My hands sweat. My throat quivers.

“We’ll come up again in a few days,” my mom says to him.

“A few days?” he says, astonished. “I don’t want you to turn your lives upside down for me. Besides, I can’t handle too many visitors at once. This was nice, but…”

I wonder if he’s just saying that so we don’t feel guilty for not coming.

My mom sighs. “Well, maybe we’ll wait for a weekend, then, when the kids are out of school. We’ll bring up some fresh apples after we go apple picking. I’ll bake you a pie. I know how you love those.”