Verse (2 page)

Chapter 6

The bell rings and English ends and I walk out with the other kids. I have a free period, I don’t know what to do.

“I have a free period, I’m going to the lab,” a girl says to her friends.

She’s kind of pretty.

I follow her down the hall.

She goes into the computer lab and I follow her inside.

It’s half-full with kids, sitting at old worn-down machines.

She sits at one in the front and I take a seat at the one on her right.

It’ll seem weird if I don’t do anything.

I push the space bar and it wakes up.

Now what?

I look through the icons and open the internet.

I type

messiah

in and hit Enter.

The first page that comes up is for Messiah College in Pennsylvania. Then a Christian website. Then—

No, I’ll come back to that, first I want to look up

near death experience

I click the first link.

A near-death experience (NDE) is the perception reported by a person who was clinically dead and revived. Typically a near-death experience involves the sensation of floating above one's body and seeing the surrounding area, followed by the sensation of passing through a tunnel, meeting deceased relatives, encountering a being of light. The experiences have been hypothesized as both having the characteristics of hallucinations and also as evidence of an afterlife. Attempts to study NDEs scientif

“Near death experience,” the girl says and I sit up straight and look at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you or read your screen, I just… You’re the one Mr. Adams rescued from the pool last week, right?”

I say, “Yeah.”

“Everything okay?”

“They say I am.”

“How did that happen?”

I look at her, looking at me, and I shrug. She keeps looking at me. “I don’t know. My brain didn’t have any oxygen for a minute or something so I guess there was some short-term memory loss. I was technically dead for a few seconds or something.”

“Oh. Is that why you’re… Did you see the afterlife?”

“I don’t know. Some people say they’re real, some people say they’re just hallucinations or whatever.”

“What did you see?”

“Do you think they’re real?”

“No.”

I laugh.

She says, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just I’m trying to meet people who do believe in the afterlife.”

“Why?”

“So that I can, um…” I look at her screen. Some code or something. “What are you working on?”

“A website.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to distract you.”

“That’s okay.”

We look at each other a moment and she goes to back to her screen and I go back to mine.

I read about NDEs and the messiah and make some notes for books to find.

The bell rings.

I open my backpack and look for my schedule, it’s not in my notebook, maybe I shoved it down in there? No, I don’t see it. Or inside a textbook?

She says, “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find my schedule.”

“We have Chemistry.”

I look up. “Oh, are you sure?”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

I zip my bag up and we leave and go down the hall.

I should ask what her name is.

I can’t ask her her name, she recognized me from class, I should know it.

But I should say something, make some conversation.

We get to class and I follow her inside.

Chapter 7

My lab partner says, “Why’d you make that announcement?”

I snap, “Why are you interested?”

I look at him, he’s taken aback. He says, “I don’t know I guess I just think it’s interesting.” He’s just a skinny kid with glasses. He’s not teasing me, he seems curious.

I say, “You’re interested cause it’s interesting?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s why people are normally interested, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

I put the spark lighter over the Bunsen burner.

He turns the gas on.

I spark it and it catches fire.

I say, “Well, I drowned in the pool, did you hear about that? While I was dead, God told me I was the messiah.”

He gapes at me.

I continue, “And I just realized this is who I am.” I grab the beaker and the stand and place them over the flame. “I just realized that I’m me. You know what I mean? I mean I always knew I was me, but it was almost like I discovered the ‘I’ existed.”

He grabs the pitcher of formula and pours it into the beaker. He says, “I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

He puts down the pitcher and turns to me. “I was talking to Jim and um, well you probably don’t know them, some of my friends about— they didn't have any idea what I was talking about.”

“Like what? Like what didn’t they understand?”

“Like I was asking them, what did they think the meaning of life was?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Exactly. The meaning of life. Who we are, where we come from. Why we are the way we are.”

“Yeah, but why do you think you’re the messiah?”

“I— don’t know. I was chosen. That’s just who I am. It’s the same for everybody. We are who we are and there’s a reason why. If I’m me, there must be a reason I’m me. You’re not me. I’m me. And not just I’m
me
.
I’m
me.”

Stop. Stop rambling.

He’s looking at me.

I say, “Don’t you feel the same way?”

“That I’m you?”

I laugh. “No, that you’re you. And that at the core of yourself, you can feel the uniqueness of your experience. And that’s it’s real, that you’re real, so life must be real. And so there must be reason for all of this.”

“What reason?”

“The meaning of life. There’s so much evil in the world. We see it every day. Most people just ignore it or go on with their lives. But it’s up to us, to any of us who are willing, to stop it.”

“You think fighting evil is the meaning of life?”

“It’s the meaning of my life.”

“But fighting evil how? Like how do you mean?”

“Anything. From stopping a big kid bullying a small kid to stopping a dictator from massacring people.”

“I don’t know. What can we do?”

“What can anybody do? We all have the same ability to do something. Each one of us has as much ability as anyone else.”

“Yeah. I mean I guess you’re right.”

I nod and look at him and we meet eyes.

He looks down and then at our beaker, which is boiling, and says, “Maybe we should finish this.”

I say, “Yeah.”

I check the name at the top of his paper.

Erwin

That’s one.

Chapter 8

a² + b² = c²

What possible use could this ever have in my life?

I enter the variables into the equation and write down my answer.

Seventeen more to go.

A gust of wind ruffles my paper and gives me goose bumps and I get a whiff of mentholated smoke.

“What are you doing?” Sydney says, taking a seat across the picnic table from me.

“Algebra,” I say.

He takes a drag and blows it directly in my face, “You only got twenty minutes left, better get moving.”

I say, “It’s not due today, I already had class.”

“What?”

“I did yesterday’s homework yesterday.”

He shakes his head. “You’re doing homework that was assigned today, during your free period?”

I shrug.

“When’s it due?”

“Friday.”

“Friday. Friday. You’re doing homework that’s due in,” he leaves his cigarette dangling in his mouth and counts on his fingers, “Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, three days. During lunch. The day it was assigned.”

I nod.

“Damn, man,” sipping his soda.

I finish another problem. Sixteen to go.

He chain lights another cigarette and says, “Why do you do that? Who are you trying to impress?”

“I just want to finish my homework?”

“Yeah, but why now?”

“If I get it done early, I won’t have to do it later?”

“Ah, time management, very important.”

I put my pencil down and look at him and he looks away.

He came to talk to me, why?

Actually, that’s promising.

He looks back at me and I look down at my paper.

I guess he doesn’t have any friends either.

But what do I say?

I pick up my pencil.

No, don’t start working again, say something.

I tap my pencil against the table.

I don’t know.

I can’t think of anything.

I say, “Did your dad say anything about me after the conference?”

“No. You got a single mom, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Has he called her?”

“You mean again? No.”

“Watch out.”

I grunt.

He says, “Well, aren’t you used to it by now?”

“Used to what?”

“New boyfriends.”

I shrug.

“She’s been single for how long?”

“My whole life.”

“How many boyfriends has she had?”

“None.”

“None?”

“None.”

“My dad’s had lots of girlfriends.”

“Great.”

He says, “What about your dad?”

“What about your mom?”

“I killed her. In childbirth.”

“Oh.”

He says, “What about your dad?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never met him?”

“No.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you ask her?”

“Of course I asked her, she wouldn’t tell me.”

“Well what did she say?”

“Nothing, she just gets mad at me.”

“Wow. I guess that makes sense. Is that why you said you’re the messiah? God’s your father, right?”

“That’s not why I said it.”

“Lot’s of people don’t know who their dads are, you know.”

“That’s not why.”

“Sure.”

I start the next problem.

He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out next to the other one on the table and goes back inside.

I finish, pack up my things up, and pick up his butts and put them in the trash and go inside.

Chapter 9

The lunch lady hands the guy in front of me a plate and he sets it on his tray and moves forward. I move up and look at the options. Sandwiches, meat loaf, pasta with zucchini, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. “Turkey sandwich,” I say, and she hands me one from the stack. I set it on my tray and get some chips and some soda and head into the dining area.

I look around. No empty tables. Sydney and Erwin aren’t here.

That girl from the computer lab is at a table laughing with some girls and guys I don’t know.

I go to the table closest to me and grab a napkin out of the dispenser and head to the conveyor belt.

I wrap my sandwich in the napkin and pick it up along with my chips and put my tray on the belt. I can’t take my soda, but that’s okay.

I go outside and take a seat next to the wall and unwrap my sandwich and take a bite. The cold slices of ground meat taste flavorless and salty and horrible.

You should go sit with that girl.

No, forget it.

I take another bite.

Forget it.

Come on.

Forget it.

Forget it.

Come on.

Do it.

Come on.

All right, all right.

All right.

I stand up and go back inside.

I must look weird.

No one’s paying attention.

I grab a tray and a plate and unwrap my sandwich and put it on the plate and set the chips next to it.

They’re going to wonder why the sandwich already has two bites out of it.

No one cares.

I just want to go back outside.

No, just go sit with her.

Come on.

I walk over to her table and stop.

They’re not paying attention.

Just keep walking, casually, you meant to go to that table farther on.

One of the guys glances at me.

Now it’s weird.

I say, “Can I sit here?”

They all look up and that girl from the lab says, “Sure.”

I sit at the empty seat and they scoot their trays apart for mine. She introduces me to Tricia, Frank, Scott, Corrine, and Malaika.

Great, now I know all their names but not hers.

Well, she’s not a potential follower but maybe one of them is.

I say, “I’m Manuel,” and they all say hi.

She picks up the conversation they were having with, “Yeah, I can get my cousin to buy beer if you guys want.”

They’re all enthusiastic.

She says, “Manuel, Tricia’s gonna have a party in a few weeks for the end of the school year, you should come.”

I say, “Okay.”

She turns to Tricia. “He can come, right?”

Tricia says, “Yeah. Totally. You’re the one who almost drowned, right?”

I flush and I half-nod and say, “Yeah.”

That girl says, “You didn’t tell me, how did that happen?”

I look around at everyone, looking at me, and shrug. “I don’t really remember, I think I just slipped.”

Scott says, “You were dead, right?”

I nod.

“What was it like? Being dead, I mean. Do you remember anything?”

I say, “Yeah, I saw the next world.”

Everyone laughs.

Tricia says, “Do you think that was real?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

That girl says, “I’m sure it was just a dream. Or a hallucination or whatever? You hit your head.”

Tricia says, “But you were actually dead, right? So if there is a heaven or an afterlife, you would have visited, right? I mean that would make sense.”

That girl says, “Is that why you said you were the messiah?”

Everyone looks really embarrassed, but I say, “Yeah. I saw God and he told me I was. That I need to save the world.”

She says, “I mean does the world even need saving?”

I say, “I don’t know.”

“Like save it from what?”

I shrug. “Evil.”

“Evil?” She looks around at everyone else.

Everyone looks confused or awkward, no one says anything.

That girl starts to speak, then stops, and says, “Well, um, can anyone else get drinks for the party? I don’t know how much Edgar will buy.”

Malaika says, “I can ask my brother.”

We finish eating and they chat and I listen until the bell rings and we all get up.

We walk out of the cafeteria and they all head down the hall to the left and I turn right.

That girl says, “Sorry about that.”

I stop and turn to her, standing there, looking at me.

I say, “About what?” Students are streaming out of the cafeteria and we’re in the way.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Okay.”

I say, “If people feel weird about what I am, that’s their problem.”

“Everyone wants to be the chosen one, huh?”

“They do?”

She says, “I mean most people maybe just want to be a princess or a movie star or whatever. But everyone thinks they’re special. But most people just have to settle for being fans.”

“I’m not most people.”

“Yeah.”

Tricia says to her, “Iris, come on.”

She says to Tricia, “Yeah, all right,” and then to me, “I hope you come to the party, Manuel. It should be fun.”

I say, “Okay, Iris,” and she goes toward her class and I head for my class.

Does that mean—?

Okay.

All right.