The Girl in My Dreams (25 page)

Martin would be leaving for school in a couple of months, but he said he’d be back every other weekend if he could. He was dead afraid to go and live there, and he was nervously waiting for his roommate assignment in the dorms. I told him to relax and that he’d probably get somebody like me, but he said he went online and read a ton of horror stories about bad roommates. I thought he was just working himself up, but I guess that was just his nature.

I knew a few other people from my class going to this community college, though I guess I didn’t really
know
them. They were even a few kids who I thought would go to a top-tier school that were coming here first. I guess there was something about saving money that appealed to everybody. I knew my parents were happy about it.

After I left the registrar’s desk, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was Kelly. She was asking if I wanted to go to a movie tomorrow night, which I agreed to before ending with a smiley face. Things had been going well with the two of us, though we still weren’t a couple or anything like that. I hadn’t quite worked through my issues completely, and I was shocked at how empathetic and calm she was with me. Most girls would run for the hills from a guy like me, but not her. There was definitely something special about her.

I’d brought a sandwich and soda with me and sat near my bike, under a large oak tree in the shade, watching people walk by and others play Frisbee and guitars. There were students of all ages, even middle-aged people, which I thought would be the biggest change from high school. It still seemed weird to me that I could have a grandma in my history class with me someday. Hell, she might have lived through whatever the professor would be talking about!

With this new chapter in my life happening, I’d been thinking long and hard about the one thing I had yet to do—the one thing that I didn’t want to ever do in my lifetime, if I was being honest. That was seeing Belle’s crash site, and everybody, including my mom, wanted me to do it. Dr. Grier said it would provide closure, and everybody agreed with her. I’d seen the picture at the prom, and that both motivated me and scared me at the same time.

I started to feel like I needed to see the place where she took her final breath in over to break the hold that was still faintly there over me. People had offered to drive me, but I thought it was something I’d have to do myself. My mom didn’t want me to go alone, mostly because she was scared of how I’d react, but offered her car to me anyway. I knew I had to do it soon—I just didn’t know when I wanted to pull the trigger. I kept telling myself it wasn’t the right time, or trying to act like I was busy, but those were just excuses to buy myself some more time. At this rate I’d never go, and I feared what would happen to me if I didn’t.

I finished my sandwich and got back up before leaving campus and riding my bike home. My mom was still at work. I walked inside and locked the door behind me. As I sat down at the table and tapped my fingers on the wood, I knew I had nothing to do and that now was as good a time as any.

Why sit here and put it off even longer? All I was going to do was work myself up and make it even harder. I knew I didn’t have a car, but I had my bike, and the site wasn’t really all that far away. I could be there in twenty-five minutes tops, and since it was only noon, I’d be back before my mom even got home.

Making the decision, I grabbed a bottle of water and went back outside to my bike. I felt oddly calm as I rode through traffic and inched closer and closer to the spot. I tried to focus on the ride itself, not where I was going, to keep my emotions in check and try to stay strong. I knew that wouldn’t last very long, though. I knew it was just a matter of time.

I came up over the country hill as the growing wheat on the farms around me blew in the summer wind. The hill was steep, and my calves and thighs started to burn from the exertion. When I reached the top of the next hill, I saw it down below and stopped my bike. There were markers down there, crosses and a massive pink ribbon tied around the tree. It was my first time seeing it in person, and I didn’t know how to react.

A few cars passed as I sat on my bike in the gravel and looked on for a minute or two before pushing forward and going down the hill. I imagined their car coming down the hill as I descended. My eyes welled up with tears and I started to sniffle as I thought of the fear in her face as the car began to lose control.

As I came to the tree where it all happened, I squeezed my brakes and slowed down before stopping completely. I got off my bike, setting it down in the grass, and stood before the tree, a massive oak that must’ve been there a hundred years, and stared at it. There was some bark growing where it had been ripped off and some moss in the gash that had been put into the tree itself.

I could feel a swirl of emotions as tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to shield myself from the few passing cars, as if I should be ashamed for crying in this situation, but I also didn’t want anybody else to stop. I just wanted to be alone, with my thoughts, in one of the hardest moments of my life.

I sat down in the grass in front of the memorial signs and crosses that bore the faces and smiles of the four people who lost their life that night. In particular, I sat in front of Belle’s, which had a poem written below her picture. I had trouble reading it, on account of the tears, and instead focused on her photograph as the breeze tickled the green leaves above.

I ran every scenario imaginable through my head as I looked around and tried to find the source of the problem. The police said that the roads had black ice on them and the car lost control before hitting the tree, but how? What were they doing? Was it an honest accident, or was the driver trying to show off or be funny? I hoped for his sake that he wasn’t doing anything to put all of them in danger. I didn’t know how I’d live with myself if I were the driver. I didn’t think I could.

I looked at the hill and saw the snow falling that night as the blizzard roared through and the small amount of moonlight that was present twinkled off the otherwise invisible black ice. I could see their car coming over the hill as they were likely screaming along to music. There would probably be some alcohol in the car, though I knew that Belle wouldn’t touch it, and I could almost see the driver taking a swig. Was he drunk? Now that I thought of it, a newspaper article did say he was believed to be drinking at the time. Was that spiked punch to blame? Could this all have been avoided if that kid hadn’t tried to be cool?

I winced as I saw their car lose control and slide down the ice. They were all panicked inside, screaming, as two of them put their hands against the ceiling, as if it would help any. The driver tried to keep control but couldn’t. He turned the wheel too much and eventually the momentum got the better of him and the car flipped multiple times. It all likely happened so fast. The car avoided the snow-filled ditch and instead slammed right into the tree. The driver sat unconscious and upside down in the vehicle as all his friends around him, including Belle, were dying.

I couldn’t hold back my tears and I choked on my own spit before shooting it down at the ground in front of me. Whatever control I thought I’d have today was gone, and I fell to the ground, on my knees, and asked why this happened to her. She was everything to me—everything—and she was taken from me because of somebody else’s stupid actions. How could I ever love anybody else again when I knew they too could be taken from me in a painful second?

With my nose now clogged and my eyes feeling puffy, I walked down the shallow ditch and up to the other side to the tree, and I saw a line of ants crawling up it. Birds chirped up above, and I saw a couple of nests with their mothers guarding them. Even a chipmunk looked at me from nearby before scurrying off. There was so much life here, on and around this tree, even though months earlier it played judge, jury, and executioner and took so many lives. I knew it was harsh to blame a tree, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened had it never grown here, or had the car flipped over just mere feet away from it. I might not even be here right now.

I touched the tree, feeling the scaly bark. I took in a deep breath and let it out gently to calm myself down. I felt a release as I stood there and absorbed it all. Was everybody right all along? Was this my best medicine? I knew it wasn’t going to make me fully get over Belle, but as I stood here, I wasn’t sure I ever would. She was my North Star, and I knew that as long as I had her or even just a strong memory of her, I’d never be steered wrong. I’d be steered home.

I also knew that she didn’t want me to lose out on other opportunities just because of her. That was the entire reason why I didn’t see her when I closed my eyes at night, at least not the real her. She wanted me to try, and I at least owed that to her.

I walked back to the road and picked up my bike as a semi whizzed past me. I sat on the seat and looked at the crash site for what I knew would be the last time in my entire life. I never came out this way, and if I had to, I’d find another route. There are some things in life you only need to, or want to, experience once. This was one of those things.

“Thank you for pushing me to be my best, and thank you for always believing in me. You might not be here, but you’ll never be gone, at least not to me. I love you. Always,” I said under my breath.

Then, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, I pedaled hard and fast and got over the hill even quicker than I had before. I didn’t look back, not even a peek. I had closed that chapter of my life and knew it was time to go.

When I got home, I was surprised to see my mom’s car in the driveway. I put away my bike and walked inside.

“I texted you,” she said as she made some food.

“Sorry, I didn’t see it,” I said as I pulled out my phone to check.

I’d hoped that my eyes weren’t still puffy and that I didn’t show any signs of what had happened to me, and I must not have, since she didn’t question me. I wasn’t ashamed that I’d cried or anything like that, but I didn’t want to talk about it or my experience. I kind of just wanted it for myself.

“I hope you got what you needed,” she said, grabbing a napkin.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m your mother, Theo. I know you better than you know yourself. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. Until then, I hope you got what you needed from there,” she said.

She still amazed me sometimes, even when I didn’t think she had much else left in her to surprise me with. I guess there were no real other explanations as to why I would’ve been gone at this time, though I wasn’t sure why it was so obvious I was there. Maybe mothers really do have that intuition she told me about.

“And you have all of your books? You know you don’t have a locker there,” my mom said as I readied myself for my first day of college.

“Yes, I have everything I need,” I said.

“Good. And you put gas in your car and have your work schedule ready?” she asked.

“Yes, Mom,” I said, with a typical eighteen-year-old’s exasperated tone.

“I’m your mother, and it’s my job to make sure you’re ready. Now, get in front of the door for a picture,” she said.

“Mom, I’m in college, not starting elementary school,” I said.

“As long as you’re in school, I’m taking your picture on the first day. Get over there,” she said.

Annoyed, I walked in front of the door and smiled before she snapped the picture and allowed me to leave. My car, a 1997 Honda Accord, was slightly rusted on the sides and had no horn, but it worked well, and I was just happy to have transportation that had four wheels and didn’t make me pedal.

I’d gotten a job in the registrar’s office at the school, mostly making copies and answering e-mails that were too insignificant for the higher-ups. I was fine with it, and I already had my training last week, so I was confident so far in my skills.

I pulled out of my driveway and saw a small plume of smoke shoot out of my muffler as I took off down my street and for the college. I never thought I’d be here months ago, and that still amazed me. Your life can change in a literal instant, sometimes in a good way, sometimes bad.

Something that I was so vehemently against a year ago was now a reality in my life, and I actually wasn’t dreading it. I had a job, a car, and Martin was going to come home in a few weeks to visit. Now that I had a car, I could even come and visit him for the weekend, which he’d likely welcome and I knew I would. I missed him a lot.

I pulled into the parking lot and parked my car before getting out, grabbing my backpack, and heading to the building my first class was in. There was a small line of students already waiting outside the door. I took my place and talked to the guy in front of me a bit. It was his second year here, and we somehow got into a discussion about a new video game that was coming out soon and how accurate it would be to the comic it was based on. Another guy chimed in, and all of a sudden, I was talking to a few people who had my interests when a year ago I was afraid I’d only have Martin for the rest of my life.

We went inside and I sat down at a desk before the professor soon came in and wrote her name on the board. With bright eyes and a happy demeanor, I took out my notebook, wrote the date, and waited to take notes and absorb whatever it was that she had to teach me today.

I guess it all worked out.

Seventy Years Later

I’d led a long and fulfilling life, I thought as I lay on my deathbed surrounded by those I loved.

My children were gathered around me, their eyes filled with tears, and I saw Martin, my oldest friend, standing in the back of the room, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.

I’d married once, though it didn’t work out in the end, and we divorced twenty-five years ago. I had three wonderful children, George, Bailey, and Anna, and even more wonderful grandchildren that blessed my life each and every day I was alive.

I ended up becoming an entrepreneur, though I never did hit it rich or big. There were many hard times, and I fear that my choices there might have led to my divorce, but whenever things were bad, I looked to the stars for guidance, and somehow things always seemed to turn out all right.