Touching the Surface Read online

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  I plopped down on the remaining bed and peeked out the window. “I was told you didn’t want to room with me. If that’s what you’re referring to. I also heard that you aren’t in Mel’s Workshop, that you’re in David’s.” I tried, but I couldn’t keep the disgust from leaking into my voice. “Is it true that you picked David to be your guide?” I turned and inspected Julia, who appeared to be getting smaller as I examined her.

  “Is it because you didn’t want to be in Workshop with me?” I couldn’t help it, I got teary. “What’s going on, Jules?” I began to pace, unable to sit still any longer.

  “Don’t call me that. My name is Julia.” She vaulted off the bed. “You always do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “You decide things. You make choices and you never ask me how I feel about them.” She grabbed an indigo hoodie off the end of her bed and put it on. The color brought out her eyes and made them take up all the space on her face. “I don’t want you giving me a nickname.”

  I threw up my hands. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just missed you. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here.”

  “I missed you too.” Julia walked over and hooked her arm through mine. It was a familiar gesture, something that she’d done before as Jim and Emma. It stopped the out-of-control feeling that battered me from all sides.

  “Jule-ia,” I stopped myself. I could hear her sigh as if she knew it had been too much to ask. It was like I couldn’t be counted on to get the simplest things right. That sigh was another nail being pounded into my coffin of failure. Yet, even though I knew what an utter screwup I was—back here for the third time—it seemed ridiculous to feel bad about wanting to call my best friend by a term of endearment. I just wanted to make her feel special, but my rationalization of the situation wasn’t stopping the sick feeling in my stomach. I hated the sensation of not doing things the right way, or, should I say, the expected way.

  “Sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”

  “I know.” She rolled her eyes and smiled—major mixed message. “Listen, Elliot, about the whole David thing.” She flipped her wrist and took a look at her watch. “Oh crap, I’ve gotta go. Listen, we’ll talk later. I do love you, Elliot—I just don’t think I can stand to be in the same room with you for too long.” Before I could react, she’d darted down the stairs, her feet moving over the steps so quietly, it was like she was flying.

  • • •

  I didn’t need a clock to know that it was lunchtime. My stomach growled loudly. I racked my brain to remember when I’d last eaten. Like everything from my previous life, it was a mystery. I headed down the stairs, my shoes tapping a staccato rhythm on the stone beneath my feet. Instantly I was surrounded by the smell of brick oven pizza. Closing my eyes, I inhaled, filling my lungs with the perfect combination of cheese, tomato, and spices. I must’ve loved pizza in my earlier life. It smelled so delicious right now.

  I opened my eyes, ready to follow my nose all the way down to the dining room. My mouth watered in anticipation, but I couldn’t resist one last peek up the curved staircase. I was in love with my room—our room. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Julia must have forgotten something important (like the fact that we were best friends forever). I turned quickly, ready to accept her apology—the one that wouldn’t have been necessary if she hadn’t gone all looney to start with. No one was there. I felt a double tap on my other shoulder—the old tap-the-opposite-shoulder trick. She was notorious for that when we were a very young Arty and Jim. I whipped around, ready to make her beg for forgiveness, and almost choked on my own tongue. The guy standing in front of me was . . . was . . . radiant. Guys can be radiant, right? ’Cause this guy was beautiful. But it was more than just the blond waves in his hair and the earnest green eyes. It was like he glowed—from the inside.

  “Hi, Elliot.” He appeared to be about my age, but he came off like a little boy waiting in line to sit on Santa’s lap and give his wish list. He bounced lightly up and down on his toes as he watched me intently. He almost vibrated. How the heck did he know my name? I stared at him. Nothing about him was familiar. Despite his youthful exuberance, he seemed weirdly worldly, like Yoda trapped in the body of a sun-kissed teenage heartbreaker. Bizarre. He gave a soft laugh.

  “Do or do not . . . there is no try.” He sounded just like the pint-size Jedi Master. My jaw sagged; font-weight: normal; } g before open and Radiant Guy raised an eyebrow at me and waited.

  I glanced up, wondering if I’d managed to somehow project a cartoon bubble with my Yoda thoughts for him to read. That’s when I saw it: I’d created a recording of the introductory roll-up that starts the Star Wars movie. The familiar theme music was playing softly near my left shoulder, words scrolling over my head—in a galaxy far, far away. . . .

  For exactly ten seconds I was completely weirded out, but then he hunched over and said, “Good relations with the Wookies, I have.” I couldn’t help it, I cracked up, which made him chuckle, leading me to laugh harder than before. I think we would have stayed there forever, entertaining each other, if Mel hadn’t shown up.

  “There you are, Oliver.” She pointed a finger at him. “I seem to recall asking you to let Elliot get her bearings before you inundated her with your relentless enthusiasm.” The scowl she flashed was a complete fake.

  Oliver grinned. “I tried—couldn’t wait.”

  “You’ve been waiting for me?” I asked. My mind was jumping around like water on a hot skillet. I twirled a loose strand of hair around my finger. His name was Oliver. So, I knew that, and the fact that he was a Star Wars fan; but that wasn’t really enough to explain why standing next to him made me feel like coming home after a really long vacation. How could someone be utterly familiar and completely unrecognizable at the same time?

  “Yes, I’ve been waiting.” He said it with confidence. The magnetic pull between us made me want to reach out and touch him, lay my head on his shoulder. I was being lured in by the subtle scent of freshly mowed grass and shampoo. I shivered, but managed to curb the odd impulse. I was flooded by the most unexplainable connection with this boy. In all my lifetimes, I’d never experienced anything like this before.

  Mel cleared her throat, reminding me she was still there.

  “Is he like this with everyone?” I asked.

  “He’s lovable.”

  “But is he . . .” I was having trouble explaining the deep connection that had sprung up so quickly. I needed confirmation. “I’ve come here over and over again with my best friend and up until”—I swallowed—“this visit, I would have considered us to have a special bond. But this isn’t like that. This feels different. Am I wrong?”

  “Nope. This is a bit unusual,” she said.

  “I’m standing right here.” Oliver’s finger made a circling gesture. “Girls,” he muttered under his breath.

  We ignored him.

  “Have you ever seen this happen before?” I asked.

  “Just once,” Mel said, making little frown lines over her nose. “But we really should be going, kids. Elliot, I can hear your stomach growling from here.” She turned and headed down the twisting corridor. I turned back to Oliver and at that exact moment my stomach gurgled like something volatile in a science lab beaker. We were standing so close I wondered if he could feel the rumbling.

  I extended my palm and Oliver took it. His hand fit perfectly in mine and within a few strides we’d found a comfortable rhythm, stomachs rumbl and rested my forehead6String in unison.

  • • •

  Crossing the threshold of the dining room, I was blissfully happy to zero in on a steaming pie sitting there for the taking. I made a beeline for it, dragging Oliver behind me. I looked at the pizza and then down at our still connected hands, not really sure how I was going to pull this one off. Oliver gave me a very Zen smile and said, “It’s pizza—we must.” I cracked up and wiggled my fingers loose. I loaded up a plate with enough pizza for a small army. Oliver got some too.

>   We found an empty table and plopped down. I picked up a steaming slice and leaned over my plate, knowing it would probably burn the roof of my mouth but willing to take that chance. When the first bite of hot gooey cheese was grafted to my insides, I glanced up.

  I didn’t know who the guy at the table across from us was, but he was staring at me with a dark scowl. At first I thought I’d violated some weird afterlife pizza-eating etiquette, but his pale blue eyes were too cold for that. He was dressed in black boots, black jeans, and an equally black T-shirt that read I DON’T DISCRIMINATE. I HATE EVERYONE. I flinched. I’d never seen this guy before—the murderous stare had to be coincidental. Still, I found I couldn’t keep myself from peeking up at him. Before I could ask who he was, Oliver leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “That’s Trevor. Appears to have anger issues.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” I said.

  Trevor pushed back his chair and stood up. He must’ve been over six feet. “Is he always angry like this?” I wondered aloud.

  “Not completely sure. He just got here. He came right after you.” Oliver ripped off one third of a new slice and chased it down with a few chugs of whatever was in his glass.

  “How do you know who he is, then?” I asked, already feeling a wave of dread washing over me.

  “I overheard Mel talking. He’s going to be in our Workshop.” Oliver paused. “But that’s not all. I think I knew him in my last life.” His eyebrows scrunched up. “I can’t quite figure it out. There’s something about the guy I don’t like. He just annoys me.”

  Happiness sloshed around my insides hearing that Oliver and I would be together for Workshop. I watched as Trevor stalked off, hitting the exit door hard enough that it banged into the wall on his way out. Some of my excitement lost its fizz. There were dozens of different Workshops at the Obmil. Why did Angry Boy have to be in mine? But I knew the answer to that—Mel. She couldn’t pass up a stray.

  “Anything else I should know?” I asked.

  Oliver’s face lit up. “Plenty, but I’ll start with the important thing first—there’s dessert on the table.”

  A big plate of chocolate chip cookies appeared on the buffet. In my mind, exchanging a hostile guy for warm cookies was a good trade. Maybe we could talk Mel into bringing dessert to Workshop tomorrow and leaving Trevor at the Haven.

  • • •

  After lunch I was strangely concerned that separating from Oliver would be traumatic, but as we said good-bye, I still felt relaxed. Perhaps it was the side effects of the pizza and cookies. I stood on the Haven porch, watching as he walked backward toward the trail that led to Workshop. and rested my forehead6Str

  “It’s not so bad,” I shouted out. “The separation, I mean.” I felt dumb after I said it, but Oliver nodded his head in agreement.

  “It’s because I’m full,” he called back.

  “Of pizza?”

  “No—full of you.”

  “Huh?”

  “When I first saw you, I felt like I was running on empty. As if I’d been away from you for far too long. I needed an Elliot fix.” He grinned. “But now I’m feeling fully charged again. I’ve got a full tank.” He patted his heart twice. “Now I can venture out, safe in the knowledge that I know where to find you should I need to replenish my reserves.”

  I blushed. Who was this guy? Granted, I couldn’t remember my last life, but I was pretty sure that no one could have ever made me feel this special before. I grinned, completely embarrassed, but sort of wanting him to say more.

  I waved, sending him off, but a small sigh escaped as he disappeared from view. I could feel the effects of him wearing off and the reality of being a miserable Third Timer setting back in. I was happy that he was content and running on full, but the truth was, I already felt like there was a cloud blocking out the sun.

  I went back to my room, and spent the afternoon reliving everything that had happened so far. I was hoping that Julia might show up so we could hash out all this nonsense between us, but she either had a full dance card or she was avoiding me. I thought about exploring the grounds but it didn’t seem nearly as fun as it would be with Oliver and I was afraid I might run into Trevor. He’d just arrived too, so he also had the day off to get his bearings.

  I finally saw Julia at dinner, but she walked in with David and the rest of her Workshop. Not an optimal situation. But I cheered up when I spotted Oliver. The sight of him made me feel lighthearted and optimistic for the first time in hours. But as he passed by Julia’s table, some guy yelled out for Oliver to join them. I held my breath. I couldn’t believe it as I watched him squeeze right between Julia and David. Julia’s face lit up and David clapped him on the back. Everybody adored him, not just me.

  What if this whole deep connection we shared was just the way Oliver was with everyone? My stomach twisted into a knot of a million different emotions. I couldn’t join them and I certainly couldn’t watch. My heart hammered inside my chest as I leaned up against a wall. Everything had me feeling off balance, even Oliver, so I decided to hide in my room again. It was foolish to be so insanely wrapped up in this guy—I’d known him all of a couple hours. I didn’t understand this whole magnetic attraction thing, but Delving was going to be tough enough, I didn’t need additional complications making things harder. I already had plenty of problems.

  I figured if I waited in our room, Julia would have to show up eventually so we could really straighten things out. I knew I couldn’t possibly survive the Obmil feeling so lonely. Oliver was great. He was like a life jacket keeping me afloat, but no boy can ever take the place of your best friend.

  The sun was just about down when I heard her soft voice in our doorway. “Where’d you take off to during dinner?”

  “I didn’t feel like watching you with your new guide.” The bitterness in my voice was like black coffee. Ironically, David smelled like black coffee underneath the Ol choked out the words.lo befored Spice.

  She lifted her chin. “I have my reasons, you know.”

  “Are you going to explain them to me? Because I can’t seem to make sense of them by myself.”

  Julia plopped down on a pile of pillows on the floor, folding in her spindly limbs like a doe curling up for the night. “I need space, Elliot.”

  “Space? Space from what? From me?”

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” It appeared that she meant it, but that didn’t make it better.

  “Why do you need space from me? We’ve always done everything together. It’s worked out perfectly up until now.” I hated the whiny pleading sound to my voice.

  “That’s it right there.” She snapped her fingers. “We’ve done everything together. Life and afterlife and every single time, you’ve led the way. Forgive me . . . but I want to be in charge of myself for a change. Oh, wait—forgiveness isn’t your strong suit, is it? You have to have the control—better to run the show and not let anyone make any mistakes. This way you don’t have to be judgmental at all.”

  “Excuse me? If I remember correctly, in my Samantha life, you pulled me out of the depths of depression and saved me. You took charge then.” I crossed my arms and gave her a look.

  “You were still running that show though. Everything that was happening—all about you.”

  “I—that’s so not . . .” I didn’t even know where to start. I threw up my hands. “So, take the lead. Nobody’s stopping you.”

  “Aw, come on, Elliot. You know I can’t be in charge with you around. We’ve got a pattern. I’ve got to break that routine. This is something that I have to do.”

  “You can be the one calling all the shots.” I pointed at her. “I don’t care. I’ll support you. I’m not a bully, you know.”

  Julia blew a curl up off her face but it settled down right in front of her eye and she had to sweep it away. “I know that you don’t mean to do it, but you have a tendency to need things to be the way you think they should be. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for the rest of us
to have an opinion.”

  It felt like a slap. “What are you going to do, then? Just discover everything without me? Avoid me and move on? What’s going to happen if you make sense of everything before I do and then you leave? We might not be able to get into a new stream together if we don’t leave here at the same time.”

  “I know.”

  She said it quietly.

  So quietly it was like a knife sliding in between my ribs and severing my heart into two pieces, halves that would never be whole again.

  “Well—now I guess I know too.” I rolled over, putting my back to her. Now that I’d badgered her for the truth, I wanted to put it back where it’d come from. Neither onw3.org/TR/xhtm

  4

  creation

  variation

  The next morning Julia was gone when I awoke. I was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in my clothes and staying on my right side in order to avoid looking at her. She’d snuck out early but left an origami crane sitting on my pillow. Cranes are supposed to be extremely loyal. Legend says that if you fold a thousand cranes you’ll be granted a wonderful wish, like a long life. Since I was already dead at the age of seventeen and the closest soul I’d ever known wanted to get away from me as fast as possible, it was too depressing to think about.

  I placed the crane on the shelf over Julia’s bed, but then changed my mind. I didn’t need a constant visual reminder of everything wrong between us. I held the tips of the wings between my fingers and gave a test pull. It wouldn’t take much. I bit down on my lip. I couldn’t bring myself to cause harm, even to a little paper crane. Compromising, I moved it to the corner of the shelf above my bed where I couldn’t see it.

  I glanced at my watch. Although I’d had the periodic urge to escape from the dark loneliness of our room last night, now I was finding it hard to leave the Nest, my nickname for the place. I headed out anyway, feeling as if I was traveling down the path of other people’s choices.

  Despite my reluctance to get to Workshop, I found I was actually enjoying my walk to the Delving School. I was torn between avoiding my past and enjoying the rush that came from playing with my surroundings. I knew the novelty of creating would soon wear off and become second nature, like breathing, but for the moment I greedily envisioned my two favorite seasons at the same time. I sighed as I watched beloved characteristics from autumn and spring jump to life in front of me. I was having so much fun tromping through crunchy leaves and smelling flowers that my steps became a little quicker, despite the fact that I wanted to avoid my destination. Thinking about it, I realized that the last thing I wanted to do right now was to engage in an emotional excavation of my last life. It wasn’t like I was going to discover something good—how well could my last life have gone if I’d ended up here? But on the other hand—I’d be spending more time with Oliver since he would be in my Workshop.