Chapter Two
“Alive - possessing life. In existence; active.”
Piper
He seemed to come out of nowhere, appearing out of the shadows in front of me. It was his sudden presence that made me pause, caught me off guard. He wore a black toboggan pulled low over his head, a black quilted coat, and scuffed-up jeans.
I kept walking, knowing he was probably just heading into the diner for a late-night meal.
He had the look of someone who couldn’t quite get warm and needed something to fill him up.
Working in this part of town gave me a lot of experience in recognizing hungry, cold people.
I hoped Julia would take pity on him and let him order before they closed up the kitchen.
Even though I knew he probably wasn’t anyone to be afraid of, I couldn’t look away as I walked. There was something about him that held my stare.
And then he smiled.
It was the kind of ornery smile that told me he probably wasn’t as innocent as I thought. Distracted by his unexpected behavior, I slipped, my heels sliding right over a patch of ice. I braced myself against the hard sidewalk, but never hit it.
The stranger caught me around the waist, his touch triggering things inside me I hadn’t experienced in a while. It was quick, almost fleeting, yet carried the impact of a blizzard.
And then he spoke.
“Easy there.” He smiled again and I was dazzled. “It’s a long way down.”
His voice was gruff and it matched his exterior so well. It made me wonder about his interior—what was behind that smile.
And then his hands were gone, stuffed into his coat. My feet were steady on the ground, but everything inside me wobbled. I stood there, trying to shake away the image in my head and the side effects of his smile.
He walked away, toward the diner, when I heard myself call out. “Hey!”
It took a few long seconds, but he turned and I actually felt grateful it was so cold and windy. He wouldn’t be able to tell that the pink in my cheeks was from my embarrassment, not the weather. When he lifted his eyebrows, I realized I needed to say something else.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He didn’t seem to want me to thank him. He didn’t seem to want to talk at all.
“Yeah,” he said with the slightest hint of irritation.
I was keeping him from the last few minutes the diner was open so I said nothing more, turning away, instead, toward the bus stop. I really hoped it came soon. It was freezing out here.
And then it was like someone pressed the fast-forward button, throwing everything around me into chaos.
Just as I wished, the bus appeared, but instead of stopping to open its doors for me, it began to slide, the heavy end fishtailing across the narrow road. I stood there watching it barrel toward me, threatening to run me down, but I couldn’t move.
Then I shifted, pushed out of the way, and landed just feet from where I had been. I looked up to meet the eyes of the stranger who captivated me. And then I watched as the bus smacked into him, flinging his body like a ragdoll, bending him at angles people weren’t supposed to achieve.
I jumped to my feet as the cacophony of the crash died away and everything seemed to be silent for one long second. The man lay in the street, crumpled and unmoving. I ran to him and dropped to my knees beside his head.
His eyes were open and they stared up as I leaned over him.
“I’m going to get help. Hang in there.” I looked toward the diner where Julia stared at me from the sidewalk. “Call 9-1-1!” I screamed and then turned my attention back to him.
He hadn’t moved at all. He still stared at me. I had no idea if he was dead, but I knew—I knew—when help finally arrived, he would be.
“I’m so sorry.” I choked, the words sounding strangled to my ears.
I wanted to touch him, but I was afraid it would only cause him pain. Something passed behind his eyes—I didn’t know what—and then it faded away into nothing.
“Thank you,” I whispered, leaning over him, praying to God he heard me. I hoped he knew he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t going to slip away without anyone caring.
Noise and panic erupted around us. People began to emerge from the bus; the driver wailed with horror and pain. In the distance I heard the piercing wail of sirens and the wrecked bus moaned where it lay.
But even through the chaos I felt as if we were in a bubble, somehow separate from the disarray.
Snowflakes swirled down from the midnight-colored sky, their path never straight, and they began to coat everything around us.
The stranger’s black knit hat began to turn white and small, perfectly shaped flakes caught in his lashes.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t breathe.
Tears slipped from my eyes and turned icy on their path down my cheeks. I didn’t brush them away. He deserved these tears. I sat there weeping, sitting vigil over his still form as all the color leeched from his skin and the snow blanketed him in white.
The snow didn’t stick to me. Because I was still warm. Because I was still alive.