CHAPTER 15 EVERYTHING IS FINE
EVERYTHING IS FINE
Noah’s mom moved to a place in South Hill right after Noah died; well, after I thought he died. When we pull up to her place, a small bungalow-style house surrounded by trees and a high fence, a light is on inside.
“Just wait here a minute,” Noah says as he opens the door and gets out.
He goes to the front door and rings the bell.
“I have a terrible feeling Miss Cliff knew Noah wasn’t following the rules,” my mom says.
“I’m still confused on how it even happened,” I say. “Miss Cliff asked Dad to do this? How did she even know he could do something like that?”
“Your dad saw how she was grieving,” Mom says as she rests her head back on the seat.
“He saw how you were grieving. He couldn’t let it go.
Maybe he should have. I don’t know. I can’t imagine losing you the way Noah’s mom lost him.
A freak accident that should have meant a twisted ankle, not a death.
” She takes a deep breath. “So he offered her a chance to bring him back but he also told her there would be rules.”
“What rules?” I ask.
“Your dad has only ever reanimated me and Noah,” Mom says. “But Grandpa Redwood, that man used his gift much more frequently.”
“You serious?” I ask. Maybe that’s why him and Dad fell out. I can’t imagine my dad doing this strange work if he didn’t feel like it was absolutely necessary.
“Grandpa Redwood set out some guidelines for the newly reanimated,” Mom says. “When someone is reanimated, they have a choice to make—fake your death immediately and live in anonymity, maybe reinvent yourself at some future date or . . .” she trails off, a faraway look in her eyes.
“Or what?” I ask.
“Or you make it seem like you never died at all,” Mom says.
“You keep on living, or at least pretending to live. You can’t go on that way forever, though.
At some point you have to die. And because our bodies don’t change from the point of death, it’s really about keeping up this endless ruse.
” She stares into the dark outside the car.
“It’s exhausting and over time it gets harder and harder to do. ”
“That’s what you were gonna do?” I ask. “You’re supposed to look ten years older than you do. What happens when you’re a hundred and you look thirty?”
“It’s a strange problem to have,” Mom says. “Dangerous too.”
I’m about to press her for more information when the door to Miss Cliff’s house opens and Miss Cliff steps onto the porch. Noah hugs her and then waves to us, signaling for us to get out of the car. I follow my mom up the front steps. She and Miss Cliff exchange glances.
“You mad at me, Kassie?” Miss Cliff asks.
“Let’s go inside,” my mom says.
“Meka, sweetie, it’s so good to see you!” Miss Cliff says as she sweeps me into a hug.
I hug her back but the tension between her and my mom is thick. We all go inside and me and Noah sit on the couch in the front room while my mom remains standing.
“Hungry?” Miss Cliff asks. “I can put something on the stove.”
My mom glances at me.
“Mom,” Noah says. “You know it doesn’t work like that.”
Miss Cliff huffs. “Just give it time. Your body is still recovering.”
“Maxine,” my mom says firmly. “We’ve been over this. There is no recovering. There is no healing. Eating your home-cooked meals isn’t going to happen.”
I stare at my mom. She has a list of food allergies a mile long and again, I try to think of how many times I’ve paid close enough attention to what she actually eats. Could it really have been nothing all this time?
“He can eat a little something,” Miss Cliff says. “I’ve seen him.”
“I didn’t want to upset you,” Noah says quickly. “You didn’t see what I had to do afterward, though.” Noah turns to me. “The food just rots in my stomach. I have to get it out . . . manually.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“You don’t wanna know,” Noah says. “But maybe I had to get creative with a vacuum cleaner.”
“Please god, tell me you mean by sticking an attachment down your throat,” I say.
“Where else would I have—” Noah stops short. “Oh. Yeah, no. Not like that.”
I breathe deep. My mom is covering her mouth. This is serious and I just said something entirely unserious.
“Sorry,” I say.
“You can’t just pretend that things aren’t different now,” my mom says, refocusing on Miss Cliff. “You can’t just act like everything is normal. You put Noah in danger if you do.”
Miss Cliff huffs, rolling her eyes. “You don’t get to say that to me, Kassie. You’re a damn hypocrite!”
I get up off the couch. “Miss Cliff, I love you. You know that, but please, don’t talk to my mom that way.”
Miss Cliff is trembling as her gaze moves from me to Noah and then back to my mom. She suddenly begins to cry and my mom shakes her head.
“Maxine, we don’t have time for this,” Mom says bluntly. “You’re upset but you have to get it together for yourself and for Noah.”
“I’m trying!” Miss Cliff says. She collapses into a chair at the dining room table and my mom sits beside her.
“There’s been a funeral,” my mom says, measuring her words carefully. “Everyone thinks Noah is dead. That’s the path you chose, and you have to accept it.”
“But he’s not dead,” Miss Cliff sobs. “He’s right here. He’s fine. He just needs to go back to the way things were before.”
Noah stares into his lap.
“Maxine,” Mom says, her voice taking on the tone of a mother talking to a child. “Noah is dead. Nothing is the same and it never will be again.”
Noah takes me by the hand and pulls me toward the back hall. “We’re gonna let you two talk for a minute,” Noah says to my mom and Miss Cliff.
He leads me to a small room off the main hall.
When we’re inside he shuts the door and flips on the light.
I’m struck silent as the room lights up.
There’s a desk with a laptop sitting closed on top.
A bed that’s made up, a laundry basket, a closet full of his clothes, even a few posters of his favorite bands.
It’s completely normal and for some reason, I feel like it shouldn’t be.
“She put all this together,” Noah says as he looks around. “You heard her. She keeps telling me that things are going to be okay, that everything will go back to normal if I just give it time.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I say. “How can things ever be normal?”
Noah sits on the edge of his bed and takes off his coat.
“I’m worried about her. She thinks I’m gonna go back to school.
She keeps trying to feed me.” He laughs in a nervous, uncomfortable way.
He touches the hole in the leg of his pants.
“She doesn’t get how, for the rest of my life, I’m going to have to live like I’m some kind of shadow. ”
I sit next to him and slip my hand into his. He glances at me, his big, dark eyes wide and almost frightened.
“Do you regret it?” I ask. “Being here, even with the way things are now. Do you regret coming back?”
“I didn’t come back,” Noah says. “I was brought back. I didn’t really have a say so I don’t think I can regret it.”
I stay quiet. He has every right to feel however he feels, but I’m glad he came back—was brought back.
“I’m going to have to watch her die,” Noah says.
“What?” I ask.
“My mom,” he says. “I’ll have to watch her die and not just her either. Everyone. Anyone I love or care about will go before me because I can’t die.”
I haven’t even begun to think that far ahead but now the thoughts come in a rush. “I—I don’t know,” I stammer. “There’s so much I still don’t understand. We gotta get to my dad. He’ll be able to help us.”
Noah nods and grasps my hand tightly. “I don’t want this for myself. I don’t want this for you. I don’t wanna be a burden.”
“Don’t say that.” I push my face into the curve of his neck and pretend I can’t feel how cold he is. “You’re not a burden. You’re just Noah. My Noah.”
He slips his hand under my chin and brings my mouth to his.
He kisses me like he’d forgotten how good it feels and I swear it feels like a spark of electricity in the places where my skin touches his.
His hands move up my back and under my shirt and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His breath in my face is cold and crisp but as I rest my hand on his chest there is no heartbeat. He cups his hand over mine.
“If it could beat, it would only be for you,” he says.
My heart ticks up enough for the both of us. Maybe he didn’t want this. Maybe he didn’t choose it. But he’s here now and isn’t that the only thing that matters?
There is suddenly a tangle of raised voices from the living room. Noah pulls away from me even though I’d give anything to stay right here in this moment forever.
“It’s our moms,” he says. “They’re still arguing.”
It sounds more intense now so I reluctantly get up, adjust my shirt, and follow Noah out into the living room.
“What is happening?” Noah asks. “You’re still fighting?”
Miss Cliff thrusts a finger in my direction.
“Your mother, Meka, gets to pretend that everything’s normal but I don’t?
” she asks, her voice breaking. “I have my son back and he’s going to go back to school, and we’re going to have meals together, and we’re going to pretend that none of this ever happened!
” I glance at Noah and his expression is a mask of sadness.
“Mom,” he says. “Just try to calm down.”
“I’m calm,” Miss Cliff says, smiling like she hadn’t just flipped all the way out. “I’m calm. Really.”
“I know this is hard,” my mom says. “I understand, but Noah needs you to be strong and you’ve got to follow the rules.”
“I—I’m sorry, Kassie,” Miss Cliff says, sounding defeated. She shrugs and wrings her hands together in front of her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
Noah puts his arms around his mom. “I just need to make sure you’re safe. Somebody broke into Meka’s place and attacked us.”
Miss Cliff pulls away from him and looks him over. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“He tried,” Noah says. “Has anybody been by here? Anything weird going on?”