Read Touching the Surface Online

Authors: Kimberly Sabatini

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Themes, #New Experience, #Friendship, #Death & Dying, #General, #Social Issues

Touching the Surface (5 page)

“I’m bad, Mel. I’m really, really bad.” My voice quivered.

“You’re not bad,” she said.

“Okay—whatever—but what I did was horrible. Thoughtless.” Once again I could hear Julia talking about how I was self-absorbed. I shook my hand like there was still a cell phone in it I needed desperately to get rid of. “Did you—did you see
his mother? Oliver’s mom? Oh, I can’t . . .” I sat up but started to hyperventilate. Oliver gently tucked my head between my knees.

“Elliot, you’re not bad, you’ve just been blindsided by your memories,” Mel said.

“I can’t turn it off—the pictures in my head—it’s all I see now.” The acid from my stomach was rising up into my throat again. Everything was bitter and raw.

I could feel Oliver’s hand resting lightly on my back. Part of me wanted to shake off the unbearable weight of him, but he was the only anchor I had. Without Oliver to ground me, I suspected that the rational part of me would take flight and disappear. It was tempting to fall apart, but something wouldn’t let me go there. Some primal defense mechanism kicked in. Wasn’t it human nature to blame someone else when things go wrong? Suddenly I felt pissed. Where was Julia? She should’ve been here. Friends shouldn’t be around for just the fun stuff. Best friends are supposed to be there for you when ugliness seeps out of your soul. I jumped to my feet. heading upasu

Fired up, I dared Mel to really examine me.

She spoke softly. “You’re not the first person to be overwhelmed by such strong memories. In fact, I’ve been here awhile and you know that Obmil time is a lot longer than regular time. I’ve seen my share. Shocking revelations are par for the
course. That’s what happens here, although I will admit, you’re the first soul I’ve met whose memories couldn’t wait until you were settled in the Swing. So, while you may be a bit hasty in your approach,” she gave a tiny smile, “you’re not alone. I promise you won’t feel like this forever if you continue to Delve and try to see. The point isn’t just to learn about our past, it’s to learn from it.”

I wanted to believe her. I could feel myself swaying, wanting to be convinced of an eternal fairy-tale ending. I allowed myself to look around the room. I was met with pair after pair of scrutinizing eyes. They didn’t appear angry or disgusted, but there was something there. It felt like curiosity, or maybe even fear. Perhaps they were remembering their own ugly secrets and fearing exposure. Maybe they were happy not to be me right now. I couldn’t blame them for that. I didn’t want to be me either.

I felt a chill dance along my spine. That’s when I saw Trevor.

He was standing with one leg thrown over a loft railing, acting as if he might spring down upon me. He had created his Workshop space in the form of a catwalk that ran all the way around the room. It was both disconcerting, having him patrolling the area above everyone, and a r44">I still co

7

the walls
between
us

The word seared me, like a brand upon my soul. I scuttled backward, shielding myself from the coming attack. I let out a gush of air when I saw that Trevor wasn’t headed toward me, but to the Swing. Crap. The truth was that I didn’t want him to Delve, either. I was afraid of seeing inside the mind of someone so completely hostile.

I fiddled with my ponytail as Trevor tinkered with the Swing. Talk about someone who had to have things a certain way. Ironically, I found myself feeling impatient. It was time to suck it up and let this Delve happen. Maybe it would be better to let someone else be in the hot seat.

I headed to my chair with Oliver} ibll right behind me. To be honest, Trevor wasn’t the only one making me jumpy. It just
wasn’t natural to be so calm about having your life mowed down. No one was that perfect, were they?

“Umm, which spot is your space?” I asked, taking a step back from Oliver.

He grinned. “Right here, next to yours.” He pointed to a gigantic tree. Well, what would have been a gigantic tree if you could see all of it. The top half of the tree emerged straight from the floor as if the rest of it continued downward into the room below. A multicolored hammock was suspended from a sturdy branch, on which sat a tree house that any kid would die for. Or any guy who was a kid at heart. As someone who’d always longed for a leafy hideaway but also got squeamish about heights if they weren’t safely enclosed, I could appreciate the advantages of such a layout. Oliver bounded up the ladder into his branches, then turned and held out a hand for me. I was tempted but shook my head. For some reason I couldn’t follow him while feeling Trevor bore holes into my back. I kept my back to Trevor, deliberately postponing my need to turn around and face him.

My creative space was nestled in the shade of Oliver’s tree. Behind me was a glass wall, overlooking the far end of the lake. Across from me the First and Second Timer senior citizens were arranged around a bingo table. Just down from them were three middle-aged businessmen in suits. They held disposable
coffee cups in their hands, paced the floor, and gesticulated wildly while they talked. I figured the odds were pretty good that at least one of them would be coming back as a Third Timer. A few women were comfortably ensconced in a variety of chairs and love seats, nestled up against a stone fireplace. They seemed relaxed, as only First and Second Timers can.

Stepping into my space, I flopped down on my plush purple armchair with matching ottoman. It wasn’t the fluffy couch that Julia and I had always shared, but I was flying alone now. Might as well get used to it.

Unable to avoid it anymore, I glanced up to meet Trevor’s gaze. There was clearly a challenge there. I gulped, still marked and tender from his earlier attack. I could sense Oliver above me, moving around like he might come back down from his tree, but then Mel hooted and jumped up, no longer rooting through the epic pile of stuff on her desk. “I found it!” She waved her notebook over her head, looking like the winner in capture the flag.

I scrutinized Mel’s organizationally challenged creative space. Her area reminded me of an eagle’s nest, an aerie. It was bigger every time I visited the Obmil. Two eagles begin by building a nest that meets their basic needs. Every year they add onto their place of residence, and the pile of sticks and fluff that they started with becomes a home of epic proportions.

It was rumored that Mel had originally started with one extremely heavy oak desk. She’d added on quite a bit since. Eagles have been known to work on a nest for their lifespan of thirty years, with some nests reaching up to two or three tons. I wondered how long Mel had been building her nest here at the Obmil.

“Trevor, you ready to go?” Mel interrupted my runaway thoughts about her domain. Trevor hopped back up, giving the Swing a kick with his boot before sitting back down and slipping on his headset. The Swing reminded me of a suspended recliner. It sort of resembled a float you might see in a swimming pool. When you climb aboard, it works like a giant air hockey game. You never really touched the recliner, because a powerful layer of air suspends you above it. If that wasn’t enough to plac my safe place to falllo beforee you in a state of hypnotic relaxation, the swing also gently rocks back and forth. If I weren’t so afraid of what would happen in the chair, I’d be dying to lie down and relax.

All of the other twenty plus people in the room already had on their headsets, which look like the offspring of earmuffs and a sleep mask. No one needs them to observe the Delved memories of another soul, but they block out distractions, making the process quicker and easier for everyone. I pulled mine on, eager to block out the sight of Trevor’s dark scowl.

“Trevor?” Mel repeated.

He grunted some kind of affirmation of readiness. Despite the tensions of the day, I could feel myself begin to relax as we slipped quietly into his past.

•  •  •

The summer rain was warm, but it fell with an unrelenting intensity. As Trevor drew closer to the memory, I could see waves of people standing under a flock of black umbrellas. It reminded me of an endless sea of raven wings.

Everyone was staring at something, and as Trevor drew closer to his memory, I realized it was a coffin, encrusted with flowers. Next to the coffin was a crumpled-up figure, kneeling in the mud, bareheaded and out of the reach of the umbrellas’ protection.

At that moment, the perspective changed. All I could see was the mud and the rain pelting the petals of the flowers. I was seeing through Trevor’s eyes. He was the figure on the ground.

I sucked in my breath. In my past visits to the Obmil, I’d always felt like a pure observer when watching someone else Delve. Julia and I often joked about “going to the movies.” This was a different experience. I wasn’t privy to Trevor’s thoughts or feelings, but I couldn’t escape the weight of the water pounding on my head, the chill that seemed to penetrate deep into my heart. I felt closer to this memory than I should feel in someone else’s Delve. If this is what it felt like, simply touching the surface of Trevor’s intense emotions, I was grateful that I didn’t have to handle it from his perspective.

Trevor’s gaze shifted to his hands and I could see his fingers clutching a
clump of grass whose roots were torn from the mud. His fist was crushing the rced myself to

8

silhouettes

I felt hollow, like a gourd. As I trembled, the dried-up, shriveled seeds of who I thought I was danced around in all my empty spaces.

Trevor shot up out of the swing, ripping off his headset, flying through the air. I wanted to cringe as he came at me like a bird of prey, talons ready to rip me to shreds, but that was a luxury my guilt didn’t allow. I stood there needing his absolution but ready to accept punishment. It was only fair.

Right before he would have found his mark, a Plexiglas wall sprung up between us. I flinched as he slammed into it and flew backward onto his back on the floor. As he shook off the disorientation of the impact, all I could picture were the black avian silhouettes that are used to keep birds from hitting
windows and glass partitions. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my throat as I pictured black shadows of Trevor placed on the glass. Would Trevor silhouettes have obnoxious sayings across the fronts of their T-shirts?

“Son of a—” Trevor thundered. He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead his leg shot out and his boot made contact with the Plexiglas. A web of cracks radiated from the point of impact.

Mel was now by his side, trying to help him up off the floor. He pushed her away.

“Relax. Calm down. I’m sorry, Trevor. I didn’t mean for you to hit that hard. It was all I could come up with before you did something you’d regret.” I couldn’t tell if Mel was trying to hug or restrain him.

“Regret?” Trevor shoved against Mel with his shoulder. “I regret you saving Elliot. Now we know for sure where your loyalty lies,” he said with a sneer. “It isn’t like I could kill her anyway. I can’t do to her what she did to my little brother.” He spit out the words as if he had battery acid on his tongue.

“You may not believe this, Trevor, but I did what I did for Elliot
and
you. I care about you, too. I’ve been around here long enough to know that things are never as simple as they first appear.”

“You think what she did was simple?” His voice was layered in icy darkness.

“No, Trevor. You’d be surprised how utterly complex I know things to be.” She gave a tired little sigh and brushed a tangle of hair off her face.

“This is the first big memory you’ve acquired by Delving; it won’t be your last. Remember, this is about you, not Elliot.” She reached for him, but he shrugged her off. “We’ve now established that you, Elliot, and Oliver are linked. While I respect your initial emotions, I’m hoping you can see that this is an opportunity to heal and grow—together.”

“Little brother . . .” The remembrance was barely audible. Trevor whipped his head around, searching frantically, and then locked on to Oliver. Moving away from me, he reached his hand out. “Ollie?” The uncertainty in his face was in stark contrast to his previous waves of hostility, but it was oddly as intense.

Mel eliminated the Plexiglas wall protecting me, but I stayed where I was, fascinated by the electric sparks of emotion that seemed to bounce back and forth between the two brothers. Suddenly, without warning, Oliver strode past Trevor and+ee changed my mind firmly planted himself shoulder to shoulder with me. My ears heard Trevor’s guttural moan, but the rawness of it registered deeper, causing me to take a step backward. Swamped by a red-hot tide of guilt, I pulled Oliver toward me, burying my face against his shoulder.

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