11. Peyton
peyton
. . .
M y dad stares down at my body. I stand there next to him, looking at myself. Nothing has changed, except maybe my hair because Jenna brushed it, but everything else looks the same.
“Before you go,” Dad says to Jenna. “What’s the tape for on her eyes?”
Jenna rushes back to me and removes the tape. I touch my eyes, waiting for the sting that always follows when you pull a bandage or something sticky off your body, but it never comes. “It was placed there during surgery. There’s no need for it now.”
“Thank you,” he says. Jenna pauses and smiles at him.
“In my head, she’s this amazing young woman with a bright future.”
“You’re right. She is.”
“She’s very lucky to have you.”
Dad shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one.”
Jenna doesn’t say anything else. She exits the room, leaving the two of us alone. He reaches out and touches my foot. The still me doesn’t move, but I pretend that I can feel him and wiggle my toes. I don’t like to think that I will never see my parents again or my sister and Quinn or any of my other family members. I don’t want to know a place where they don’t exist. Where I’m whatever this is now, watching them go on with their lives.
How long does it take until you forget someone? I barely remember my father. Being five when he died, the memories faded rather quickly, except for the stuff I’ve made up about him in my mind. At what point do your loved ones become only a date that you remember? When do you start talking about them in past tense? Telling stories to make others remember?
Dying isn’t what I want. I want to live. I want to work in television and commentate one of Noah’s games. I’d be impartial and not afraid to tell the viewers when he’s done something bad. It’s what he’d expect from me.
I want to stand next to my sister when she marries Ben because we all know it’s going to happen. Elle can deny it as much as she wants, but I see it in her eyes when she looks at him. It’s the same way I look at Noah, except Noah and I will never have that sort of future.
And when Quinn finally brings a woman home, I want to be there when he introduces her to our mom, knowing that this woman will have to move mountains in order to impress her. Never mind the fact Elle and I are related to her by blood. When it comes to Quinn, he’s her world. It’s okay that he is because he didn’t have a mom, and Elle and I got a double bonus when Harrison came into our lives.
My dad finally sits down in the same chair everyone else has been using. He picks up my hand and presses his lips to it. I can see that he’s crying, but can’t feel the wetness as his tears land on my skin. I want to though.
I desperately want to feel his arms wrapped around mine. From the day he taught me to play the drums, I knew he’d be my knight in shining armor. He encouraged me to do everything, nothing was ever off limits and he rarely told me no, except for the time I asked if I could have a motocross bike. I had seen it on television one day, the X-Games, and I wanted to do it. My mom freaked out. My dad said no, but took me to the nearest store and asked me to pick out a bike. Next came the gear, and by the time I was all set to start riding, he told me that I’d have to have years of training. I gave up immediately and went back to playing the drums and dissecting game film with Noah.
My dad reaches for his drumsticks, sliding them into my grasp and clutches our hands together. “Use these, sweet pea. Beat off whoever is trying to take you away from me. I know you can do it. You’re a strong girl, Peyton. Tell them no. Tell whoever it is you’re not ready. And if it’s your…” he chokes up and takes a few shuddering breaths. “If it’s your father… if it’s Mason, you tell him you love him, but you’re not ready. I’m not ready, baby girl. I haven’t had enough time to be your dad yet.”
His head falls to my side and he sobs. I curl into him and tell him that everything is going to be okay. I will fight if I can figure out how. There wasn’t exactly someone waiting for me when I arrived at the hospital, handing out instructions on how to avoid the afterlife. I’m a good student. I would’ve read or listened to whatever they had to say because I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave my family.
My name’s being called, but when I look up there isn’t anyone else in the room and my dad still has his head resting next to me. Yet, I follow the sound of the voice until I find myself standing in front of a large window. There are babies, wrapped in various color blankets with either blue or pink beanies on their heads.
Inside, a woman dressed in a yellow gown is holding a baby girl, rocking her to sleep. I go in and see that the baby is tiny and she has cords coming out of her blanket, much like I do upstairs.
“Please, God,” the mother cries over and over again. Her eyes are closed and she’s muttering words I can’t understand. Is her baby sick? I try to get a better look, but her face is hidden.
Another baby cries, and I follow the sound until I’m standing in front of a bassinet. She too is wearing a pink hat, but something is wrong. There are two cards in her cradle, and the others only have one.
She’s a twin, but where’s her… I look back at the woman and again at the baby who is crying. Did she have twins? And what’s wrong with her baby?
A man walks in wearing the same yellow gown that the woman is. He rests his arm on the back of her chair and leans down, whispering something into her ear.
“I will not,” she yells at him.
Suddenly, I don’t want to be here, but I can’t leave. I try to picture another room, anywhere else but here, but I’m stuck.
“You have to let her go. You have another child that needs you.”
“NO! That child killed my baby.”
“That child is our daughter. She needs us, and we need her.” The man looks frustrated. He has tears in his eyes as he comes closer to me. I move out of way even though I’m not really here. He picks up the crying baby and holds her to his chest.
“It’s okay,” he tells her.
“None of this is okay. That thing killed our baby.”
The man shakes his head. “She didn’t. There was nothing that could’ve been done to save her.” He points at the baby in his wife’s arms. He moves toward the woman, but she’s vehemently shaking her head.
“Get that thing away from me. I hate it.”
The man pauses and looks down at the bundle in his arms and nods. He doesn’t say anything else, but goes to the other side of the room and starts to rock the baby. It’s not long until he starts crying.
My name is called again and it’s like I’m being teleported to another part of the hospital. I wish I had some say in where I was going, but I don’t seem to be in control.
Now, I’m outside. It’s dark and while it’s winter, I should be cold, but I’m not.
“Peyton?”
I look to my left and on the bench is a woman with long dark hair like mine. She motions for me to come sit with her, but it’s hearing a familiar voice that’s keeping me grounded. “Noah,” I say, but he doesn’t look over. He’s talking to a homeless man and they’re deep in conversation. He laughs, heartily, causing me to smile. I love his laugh. It’s one of his best features.
“Peyton,” she calls my name again and this time I go to her. She pats the spot next to her on the bench and I sit.
“How can you see me?”
“You don’t know who I am?”
I study her, trying to pull her face up in my mind. I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m your grandmother, Grace.”
Now that she’s said as much, yes, I can see it now. “I’m sorry I didn’t know. The pictures my grandpa has up of you are old and…”
“It’s fine. I’m so happy to meet you.”
I don’t want to be happy to meet her because she’s dead and that would mean I’m… I can’t bring myself to say the word, fearing that doing so would put some finality into my situation. I’m not ready. I haven’t had the chance to tell everyone how I feel or do the things I’ve wanted to do.
I’m almost afraid to ask, but I have to know. “Am I dead?”
“No, you seem to be taking your time crossing over. Your dad and I have been waiting.”
“My dad? He’s here?”
She nods. “He’s with your mom right now. He’s been here the entire time, watching over you and your sister.”
“Why can’t I see him?”
“He’ll make his presence known when the time is right, but for now, he’s comforting your mother so she doesn’t feel lost.”
But that’s Harrison’s job.
I look back at Noah and wonder what he’s doing with that man. They seem friendly, like they’ve known each other for years, yet I’ve never seen him before in my life.
“Is he a good man to you?”
“He’s a friend,” I say, shaking my head.
“But you’re in love with him.”
“Doesn’t matter how I feel anymore.” I look at him one last time before turning my attention back to my grandmother. “What’s it like? Dying?”
“It’s different for everyone. For me, it was peaceful. I was ready to stop the pain.”
“And for my father?”
“He had a harder time with it. He was young and had his whole life ahead of him. Mason fought hard to stay, but the damage was extensive.”
“Like mine. I’m not supposed to make it through the night.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. I gather she’s here to help me cross over or whatever it’s called. Just follow the light or so they say on television.
“If I go, will my mom be okay?”
“In time.”
“And what about my sister?”
“She’s strong, like you.”
“And my brother?”
She doesn’t answer, only nods. I get the impression she’s not fond of my family.
“My grandpa Powell, he loves Quinn. And Harrison.”
“As he should. They’re good men, but I’m not tied to them like I am to your sister. I only speak about your mother because she survived when her husband passed away. That’s a testament to her character. But you, your sister and I are linked.”
“And if I’m not ready to go? How do I fight? How do I wake up from whatever this is? Everyone is hurting and I want the pain and tears to stop. I want to open my eyes and see my mom, my sister, and Noah.”
My grandma adjusts. “You’ll have to ask your dad because I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you fight?”
“I did, with everything I had. I wasn’t ready to leave my life behind. To leave my husband and son, but after awhile, the cancer became too much for me and by the time I realized I was dying, it was too late.”
“My grandpa misses you.”
“I know, sweetie. I miss him too. But I’ll see him soon.”
I don’t ask her how she’s going to see him because I don’t want to know. There are only two options that I can think of, and neither is acceptable. I turn back to Noah, only to watch him leave. He goes through the double doors, walking as if he’s on a mission. “I’ll be right back,” I say, but when I glance over my shoulder, she’s gone.
Going over to the man, I find him staring down at his hand. In it, is a wad of money and I have a feeling that Noah put it there. That seems like something he’d do. I lean into him and whisper, “Wait for him. He’s going to need a friend.”
I stand back and watch as the man looks around. I try not to laugh, but I can’t help myself. If I can talk to him, maybe I can talk to the others and let them know that I’m fighting. Let them know that I’m here and can feel their love and that I’m trying to wake up.
The man finally looks up and smiles.