Beyond Reach Page 7

  “Amen!” she says.

  “Amen!” I echo, actually laughing now. “Sorry. I know this is serious business, but you're pretty funny too.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Come on, Sam.” She grabs me by the hands and pulls me to my feet. “Let's get moving. Time's a wasting.”

  So I get it together, and Olivia drives us to the local mall. And as usual, shopping with this girl is great. Seriously, I don't think anyone could have a bad time shopping with her. Not only does she have a sense of humor along with some really good fashion instincts and, oh yeah, deep pockets, but she's also really encouraging about my own personal image issues.

  For instance, if I think my rear end looks like a double-wide in a certain pair of jeans, she'll first assure me that I'm totally wrong about the dimensions of my derrière, but then she'll help me to find a better pair of jeans that end up looking totally awesome. That is a true friend.

  For my birthday present, we finally zoom in on shoes. According to Olivia, a girl can never have too many shoes. And after trying on everything from patent leather stilettos to some real earth muffin sandals, I finally settle on the coolest boots imaginable. Of course, they cost too much, but as the frazzled saleswoman points out, they are on sale.

  “You have to get them,” Olivia says as I parade around in them. “You look totally awesome in them.”

  “Even on sale, they're too much,” I protest as I admire them in the short mirror. But Olivia refuses to take no for an answer. Finally the deal is done, the boots are bagged, and we go get some lunch. Olivia insists on treating.

  “Thanks for everything,” I tell her as we head for home. “You're way too nice to me.”

  “Only on your birthday,” she teases. “I can be a real beast for the rest of the year.”

  “Yeah, right!” I laugh. Seriously, I can't imagine having a better best friend than Olivia.

  “I'll pick you up at six-thirty,” she says as she drops me at my house.

  “Huh?”

  “For your birthday surprise.”

  “I thought this was my birthday surprise.”

  There's more.” She winks. “And wear something nice, okay? Like those new boots and your Banana Republic corduroy skirt. That'll look good.”

  Okay,” I say with uncertainty. Then she zips off, and as I'm walking to the house still wondering about what lies ahead for this evening, I notice a bouquet of flowers by the front door.

  Okay, this day just keeps getting better and better! I'm sort of hoping the pretty blooms are from Conrad, but they end up being from Ebony and some others down at city hall, which is actually quite nice.

  I go inside and put my things away, and just as I'm going back downstairs, I suddenly experience another flash. It feels similar to the one by the fire this morning. But it comes so quickly that I actually stop midstep, pausing right there on the stairs to see whether it's for real or not. It is.

  This vision is brief—maybe just a couple seconds or less—but it appears to involve the same guy—at least the dark brown hair looks the same. Only this time he's in a room, just a nondescript room, but I can tell it's inside a building or a house. And he's wearing what appears to be a gas mask, although I'm not totally sure that's what it is. It reminds me of something from an old war movie, and it actually looks kind of scary. Surrounding the edges of this mask is what looks like silver duct tape, as if the guy is trying to seal the mask even tighter to his face. Then I notice a tube protruding from the side of the gas mask, being held in place by more duct tape. This tube connects to a bright orange metal canister. That's it. And the vision leaves as quickly as it came, about as fast as the snap of my fingers.

  Still, once it's gone, I feel slightly stunned and grab the handrail to steady myself. Then I actually sit on the stairs to think about what I just saw, to figure out what it might mean. But once again, it makes no sense. And once again, I'm assuming that this guy is Peter, although this also makes no sense.

  At first I think he's using the gas mask to protect himself from the air around him. Maybe that “orange tank contained oxygen. But then I remember from chemistry class that oxygen tanks are usually green. For some reason it seems important to figure out what was in that tank, so I head for my computer and Google selections of words like “orange gas tanks,” but only find weird things like “put an orange in your gas tank to improve your gas mileage.” Yeah, right.

  Finally, I give up and just lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh. I notice the colorful balloons happily floating above my head and suddenly remember the times I've helped my mom during the Summer Festival for the park district. Zach and I usually competed over the fun job of filling the balloons with helium—and the big tank we used to fill them was orange.

  Was the guy in my vision trying to breathe helium? And if so, why? Did he want to float away? Or was he trying to kill himself?

  I return to my computer and Google “helium poisoning” and discover that there have been a couple of suicides done this way recently. I also learn that the website Olivia and I visited earlier today contains the instructions for how to commit suicide this way. But what does this mean?

  It's already after five o'clock, and I have no idea whether Ebony is still at city hall, but I decide to give her a call anyway. I get her voice mail and leave a detailed message about my latest vision and what I discovered about helium poisoning online. Of course, I don't know what this means,” I admit, “what the significance is… But I thought I should tell you about it.” After I hang up, I decide it's time to write down the two visions I've had today. So I put them in my notebook, much in the way I did when I was helping Ebony with Kayla's case. Maybe it has nothing to do with anything, which I doubt, but just in case, I want to be ready

  Then I decide to go back to the suicide website to see if anyone has read or responded to the messages written by “Grace” and “Hope” today. And man oh man, are there responses! And to say that they are not very nice responses is a huge understatement. It seems we've hit a real sore spot with a bunch of mixed-up death-wishing people. As much as we attempted to come across as loving, kind, and gracious, we have been pathetically misunderstood by most of the members of that website.

  My hands actually begin to shake as I read some of the posts. Olivia and I are regarded as “intruders” who “have no blanking right to interfere” with their website. We're told to “drop dead” or “get a life” or “butt out.” Of course, a lot of four-letter words are interspersed in these angry posts, as well as lots more derogatory and hateful remarks. One less hostile girl simply calls us “misguided, ignorant evangelists who should mind your blanking business.” But a guy named Mori says, “It's blanked-up blanks like Grace and Hope who blank up the world, making normal people like me and my friends want to take a flying leap from the blanked-up planet.”

  Finally, I can't take any more, and I exit the site without making any new comments. Maybe it was a mistake to try to get involved in something like this. I'm just glad that we used fake names and no one knows how to track us down. I can't imagine what it would be like to meet one of these people face-to-face.

  This reminds me of Peter, and I can't imagine how a guy like him—who looked so normal in his photos— could've been comfortable spending time at a site like that. But then I know that people are full of surprises and sometimes what we see on the surface is simply that—the surface. Still, it makes me so sad for Peter. Sad that he got sucked into a site like that, sad that he bought in to their lies and hopelessness, sad that he actually fell for it by taking his own life. If he did take his life…and despite what Ebony is thinking, I am feeling more certain that this is probably the case. Maybe these visions, while they never really happened, might be things Peter considered before he took his dad's gun and shot himself.

  But this disturbs me. In fact, it disturbs me a lot. And I'm not sure I really want to face the reason it disturbs me. I especially don't want to face it on my birthday. Consequently I try to distract myself by taking a
nice long shower and getting ready for whatever it is Olivia has in mind for tonight. She's right about the Banana Republic skirt. It is perfect with the boots. I top off my outfit with a white T-shirt and a brown lacy cardigan sweater, then check it out in the mirror. Not bad!

  “Samantha!” says my mom, knocking on my door in an. urgent way. I didn't even know she was home.

  “What?” I jerk open the door, preparing myself for the worst. Maybe it's Zach. Has he done—?

  Oh, sweetheart!” She explodes into my room, throwing her arms around me. “I totally forgot your birthday!”

  “Is that all?” I step back and study her, certain that there must be something more. Something really serious must be wrong.

  “Yes, I just got home and saw the flowers from Ebony, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I totally forgot!” She actually has tears in her eyes now. “I am the worst mother on earth, Sam. How could I possibly forget my own daughter's birth—?”

  “It's okay, Mom. I understand. You've been busy. Life's hard. It's okay, really.”

  Mom sniffs then nods. “Well, it's not okay. But I'm glad you understand.” Then she actually seems to see me. “Oh, by the way, you look nice. Big date tonight?”

  “I'm not sure. Olivia is up to something.”

  “Are those new boots?”

  I glance down at my extra-cool footwear and nod.

  She frowns. “Where'd you get them?”

  “Olivia got them for me, for my birthday.”

  Oh…” I can tell by Mom's expression that she's not so sure about this. They look expensive.”

  They were on sale.”

  Oh…”

  Olivia wouldn't let me leave Nordstrom without them.”

  “I guess Olivia can afford to be extravagant.”

  Okay, this comment irks me a little or maybe it's just the tone she's using, but it sounds like a put-down. Still, I refuse to let it get to me. Olivia is a good friend and a generous person.”

  “Well, I am sorry I forgot your birthday, Sam.” She presses her lips together. “How about if I make it up to you next weekend when we go shopping? We'll really make a day of it.”

  “Sounds great.” I glance-at my watch. “Uh, Olivia should be here any minute.”

  Then I won't keep you.” Mom backs out of my room. “Have a good time.”

  As it turns out, I do have a good time. In fact, I have a fantastic time. Much to my surprise, Olivia made reservations at a new French restaurant in town. I naturally assume it's just her and me. And that's cool. But as we walk across the extremely sophisticated restaurant, I notice some familiar faces sitting at a table for four right next to the gas-burning fireplace. Olivia has prearranged to have our dates, Conrad and Alex, already there waiting for us.

  “Happy birthday,” Conrad says as he stands to greet and hug me, popping a little kiss on my cheek. Then he presents me with a clear plastic box containing a wrist corsage of pale pink tea roses. A little corny, but very sweet.

  Thank you!” I say as he helps me remove my coat and I slip on the flowers.

  “Happy birthday.” Alex hands me a card.

  “This is so cool.” I sit down and feel like queen of the party.

  “Are you really surprised?” asks Olivia.

  “Of course! This is incredible, Olivia!”

  Then since the owner of the restaurant is a friend of Olivia's dad, we are all treated like celebrities. They even bring us a complimentary bottle of sparkling cider, complete with a silver ice bucket. The waiter serves this in tall champagne flutes—very classy. And I feel so grown-up. I can tell this is going to be a night I will always remember. And even though I still have a few sad but fleeting thoughts about Peter, the suicide site, and the gloomy visions I've had today, this little dinner party proves to be a good distraction from those somber things. The four of us laugh and joke and practice our French.

  “I want to go to France someday,” I tell them.

  “Me too,” says Olivia. “We should plan a trip to Europe after graduation.”

  “That'd be awesome,” I say. “Maybe I better start saving now.”

  “Are boys allowed?” teases Conrad.

  “Hmm, I don't know…” I study Conrad as if I'm seriously weighing this.

  “Graduation is a long way off,” Olivia says lightly. That gives us plenty of time to think about whether our European trip is open to guys or not.”

  After we finish dinner, which includes espresso and an incredible dark chocolate dessert with a name I still can't pronounce, and after Olivia takes care of the bill (which her dad is actually paying for), we decide to split up and go our separate ways.

  Olivia's plan seemed to be to have Conrad drive me home in his funky Gremlin, which is fine with me. Meanwhile Alex was supposed to hitch a ride with Olivia in her much cooler and newer Toyota Camry. But I'm actually glad to be with Conrad. And I know Olivia is happy to be with Alex. I just hope Alex is okay with it. It's hard to read that boy sometimes, and I occasionally worry that he's just getting roped into our little foursome for the sake of convenience. I worry that he might end up telling Olivia that he's not interested in her, and she is just too nice of a girl to be hurt by something like that. Still, I'm not sure there's much I can do about it.

  “Did you have a good time tonight?” Conrad asks as he drives through town.

  I turn and smile at him. “I had a great time. Thanks for coming and everything.”

  “I still have something for you.” He stops at a red light.

  “Huh?”

  “A birthday present.”

  “But you already gave me my roses.

  “That was just for fun, Samantha. Besides, those flowers won't last long.”

  I'm not so sure about that since I've already decided to dry them and save them as a memento from this perfect evening. I sigh happily, leaning back into the sheepskin-covered seat. Conrad is driving across the overpass now, the one that goes above the freeway. But up ahead, midway across the overpass, I see someone standing on the edge of the cement safety barrier. He's illuminated by the headlights, and his hands are held out, as if he's going to jump.

  Oh my gosh!” I suddenly sit forward and point at the dark-haired young man who's about to jump.

  “What?” Conrad starts to brake the car. “Is something in the road?”

  “Don't you see him?” I cry out. Then a? quickly as the image appeared, it now vanishes, and I suddenly realize it wasn't real. Just a vision. I should've known. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut?

  Conrad is going very slowly now. “See what?”

  “Oh, it's gone now,” I say quickly. “Sorry about that.”

  “But what was it?”

  I obviously need to explain myself, but I can't tell him the truth, that I have visions and dreams, or that God speaks to me in some pretty unusual ways. “I just thought I saw something,” I say quietly. “Sorry.”

  “You said him. Did you see a person?”

  “I think it was an animal.” I feel guilty for the lie. “Something going across the road. I just called it him, well, just because I did. But now that I think about it, I bet it was just a shadow or something.”

  He shakes his head. “Man, I didn't see a thing.”

  Or who knows? Maybe I imagined the whole thing. Let's just be glad it was nothing, okay?”

  He nods. “That works for me. You know, my dad's always warning me to be careful with the Gremlin since it'd be really hard to find replacement parts if I ever get into a wreck.”

  “You'd think he'd be more concerned about your welfare if you got in a wreck.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, well, I guess that's implied.”

  Once we're at my house, Conrad opens his glove compartment and retrieves a small, neatly wrapped box. And suddenly I feel nervous. I mean, I'm not the kind of girl who's used to dating, not to mention getting gifts from guys—especially gifts in boxes that look as if they might contain jewelry.

  “I wasn't sure what to get you—”

/>   “You didn't need to get me any—”

  “I wanted to, Samantha.”

  I nod and smile. “Okay.”

  “I wasn't sure you'd like it, but I asked Olivia and she gave me the thumbs-up.”

  “Olivia knows me pretty well.”

  He hands me the box. “Go ahead and open it.”

  I carefully remove the paper, and it does turn out to be a velvet-covered jewelry box. I am getting really nervous again. What if it's something really expensive? What should I do? Give it back and risk hurting his feelings? But to keep an expensive gift, especially if it was, like, something with diamonds… Well, that would seem all wrong. I glance nervously at him.

  “Aren't you going to open it?”

  I force a laugh. “Sorry…1 guess I was just trying to prolong my birthday.” Then I open the box and am pleased to see that no diamonds are involved. It's a short silver chain with something hanging from it. I hold it up to the dome light to see it better.

  “It's a charm bracelet. But I could only afford one charm. It's supposed to represent your birthday.” He points to the small silver charm with something red in the center. The saleslady said that's your birthstone.”

  “A garnet?”

  “Yeah, that's right. And I had them engrave the year on the back. That way you can always remember this night.” He looks earnestly at me. “Do you like it?”

  I grin and throw my arms around him. “I love it!”

  Then he kisses me and sighs. “Oh, good. I was worried that you might think it was goofy. I mean, first that corsage and then a charm bracelet? You might think I have some kind of wrist fetish.”

  I laugh. “I do not think it's goofy, and I'm sure you don't have a wrist fetish. And Olivia was right—a charm bracelet is perfect. I can't wait to start filling it up.”

  “Yeah, the saleslady showed me all kinds of charms. They have something for every imaginable occasion—and even for some you can't imagine.”

  “Cool.” Then I hold the bracelet out to him. “Want to help me put it on?”

  So he fumbles with it and finally it's on and I hold it up in the light. “What do you think?”