When They Fade (24 page)

The lake is cool and refreshing. I take my shoes off and step into the soft waves. My toes sink into the sand, which curls around my feet, giving me a wonderful feeling.

Yes, feelings.

Parker sits on our log. He's looking more modern these days, thanks to me. Our clothes took a real beating during our last encounter in the real world, so a group of us snuck into a mall late at night and did a bit of shopping. We left some of Mary's ancient coins on the counter for payment.

Parker wears a nice pair of jeans and a fancy top. He complained at first that the pants were too tight, but he's since grown used to them. His bowler hat has been retired, and I swear his hair has grown an inch or two. He looks incredibly handsome, and I can't help but admire him when he glances my way.

Our little world has changed. Gone are the French tables with the fancy black wrought iron. Gone are the paper lanterns that never light up the sky. Now our beach is just that, sand and logs. There's a cabana off to the side filled with a never-ending supply of fresh towels and picnic blankets. In the daytime we can be found lounging around, drinking brightly colored drinks that appear when we want them. They taste heavenly.

In the woods surrounding our little inlet are dozens of cottages. I share one with Parker. They're beautiful little buildings with front porches and comfy chairs to sit on. At night—and yes, we have both sun and darkness now—we light candles and visit one another. Parker and I spend a lot of time with the dog lady. Her name is Grace, and she's fascinating. She used to be a dance instructor to some famous politicians. Whenever we come over, she serves us cookies that she baked during the day. I've even taught the pooch some new tricks.

We sleep and dream. We form relationships. We laugh and cry and support each other. I've really gotten to know these people I've spent so many years with. Who they are, not how they died. I now know how they lived. I share their stories. Their hopes and dreams. Their memories.

When new people arrive, we welcome them with open arms. They no longer have to sit themselves down quietly and wait for that first moment when they'll Fade. It's not easy: many of them come to us angry and confused, still hurting from the tragic way they left earth. But we all came the same way one time or another. And we're patient.

Tatum may never fully understand, but she did save me. She saved all of us. She made us remember that we deserved to feel the sun on our faces. That just because we died tragic deaths we didn't have to fade into memory.

The Remnants may have been involved with my premonition, and I certainly added to it by refusing to give up, but now I see that there was a bigger picture for Tatum and me. Our determination to help each other was the most important thing. Tatum's days are changing too. I have faith that she'll be strong enough to move on. Her name is clear, and she's no longer being bullied. She has nothing to look forward to now except the future.

We saved each other.

As for the cave in the woods, I don't go back there anymore. There's no need. I have everything I want right here.

And when I do Fade, I try to enjoy the moment. I still enjoy stepping out onto that road as the headlights light up the earth beneath my feet. I get into the car or van or truck and give the person behind the wheel my best smile.

“Thanks for the ride.”

This is the story of how I died.

Don't forget me.

I'm still here.