Nocte (The Nocte Trilogy #1)(43)
Author: Courtney Cole

I’m feeling dejected about that as I turn around and gaze at the faded red bricks of my school, at the doors that I dreaded walking through every morning for four years.

I’m startled when the principal walks through them now.

He’s startled to see me, too.

“Ms. Price,” he says quickly, and crosses the walk toward me.  I’m not used to seeing him in casual clothes, so his shorts and polo shirt throw me off.

“Hi Mr. Payne.”  The irony of his name is not lost on me.

“How are you doing?” he asks, his tone both warm and nervous. I get it.  No one knows what to say to someone who has lost a loved one. It’s a hard situation.  “You’ve been in my thoughts a lot lately, Calla.  My wife has asked me several times if I know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “We’re hanging in there.”

“And your father?” he asks.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected,” I tell him. “I’ll tell him you asked about him.”

“Well, this is a small community, Calla.  Everyone hated to hear of your loss.  If you need anything, for college or for anything else, you just let me know.”

I nod and he hurries away to his car as though he can’t get away from me fast enough.

“Ugh,” I shake my head.  “He’s all about helping now, but he never raised one finger when Finn kept getting shoved into lockers our freshman year by the football team. Or when they de-pants him our junior year. Or all of the times in between.  And he can’t even bring himself to directly ask about him now.  They think he’s crazy and not worth their time.  It disgusts me.  This whole town disgusts me.”

I turn away for the bike and Dare grabs my arm, forcing me to pause.

“I understand your anger, Calla. But do me a favor, ok?  One of the most beautiful things about you is your spirit.  It’s refreshing… to me, and to anyone else who sees it.  So don’t let anything make you ugly, ok?”

His words are so honest that they freeze me in my tracks, making me realize something.  I can’t let them make me as ugly as they are.  I nod slowly.

“You’re right, I guess.  I can’t fix their small minds.  So I can’t let it affect me.”

Dare nods. “Exactly.  Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes.”  My answer is immediate. 

We get back on his bike and tear off down the road, and I try very hard to leave my bitterness back at the school where it belongs.

We drive all the way to Cannon Beach on a seaside road. We hike down to Haystack Rock and stare at the ocean as we lean against the rocks.  We marvel at how big it is, while we’re so small.

On the horizon, a sailboat glides across the water, it’s white sails billowing into the sky like clouds.

We both stare at it for a while, until it disappears from sight. Finally, Dare turns to me.

“After my mom died, someone gave me a poem to read, and it actually helped.”

I stare at him, unconvinced. “A poem?”

He smirks.  “I know.  But yeah, it did.  It was about a ship and how the ship doesn’t lose it’s value or it’s usefulness or its being simply because it sails away out of sight.  It’s still as large and valuable, and it still exists, even though we can’t see it.  So, in a way, dying is like a ship that sails away for another destination.”

I stare at him, and there’s something big between us, something unsaid, but big all the same.

“I’ve read that one,” I tell him.  Because I live in a funeral home, I’ve read all the poems about death.  “That’s a good one. That’s probably better than the dragonfly story that Finn told me.”

Dare smiles a small smile and he doesn’t ask to hear the story, but on the way back up to his bike, he grabs my hand and holds it.  I don’t pull away, I just savor the feel of his long fingers woven between my own.

We drive forty minutes back to Astoria with the taste of the sea on our lips and the feel of Dare’s chest beneath my fingertips.  It’s a good ride, and I hate to see it drawing to an end as we idle through the streets of Astoria.

I especially hate when we idle toward Ocean’s View Cemetery.

I look away from its wrought iron gates and brick columns, from the trees that weep along the shadowy lanes inside.  Because I know, that at the back of the neatly lined plots, there’s a large white angel standing over a white marble stone.  LAURA PRICE lies there beneath the surface, eternally sleeping, forever gone from me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and I must squeeze Dare, too, because he turns slightly.

“Are you ok?”

I nod against his back.  “Yeah.”

Lie.

Dare notices the cemetery, and I feel him tense a bit.

“You’re surrounded by it here,” he tells me, his voice as soft and quiet as it can be on the back of this bike.  “In order to move forward, you have to move away.”

I nod, because I know.

As I move my head, I open my eyes, and as I do, I notice something.

Finn.

Standing in the gates of the cemetery, watching us ride away.

He doesn’t call out, he doesn’t chase me, he doesn’t even seem angry. But the expression is still there on his face… the expression that tells me I let him down.  I told him I’d go with him to visit our mother, and I didn’t.  And because I didn’t, he went alone.

I close my eyes.

28

VIGINTI OCTO

Finn

It’sTime.

The voices are insistent, more so than usual, more so than ever.

It’sTimeIt’sTimeIt’sTime.

Time for what?

I buzz along the road from the cemetery, up the mountain to my home, where I linger in the trees and watch my sister as she says goodbye to Dare and waits for me.  I know she’s waiting for me, because she always does.

And unless I do something, that’s what she’ll always do.

DoItDoItDoIt.

I suddenly know what to do, and I head along the path for the pier.  It doesn’t matter that she wouldn’t go to the cemetery with me, because I know she would’ve tried if I’d forced the issue.  She would’ve tried and she would’ve been miserable because she’s not ready.  I can’t force her to be ready.  It has to happen in order.

It has to happen in order.

There’s an order.