There was a photo sitting on top. Normally it would have been a Senior picture, but Alex had never got around to doing those. Instead, it was a candid shot, obviously taken from a cell phone. He looked like a kid at Christmas, joy seeping from every pore. I had already forgotten how beautiful he was when he was like that.
I stretched out my hand and placed it on the casket, ready to say my goodbyes, but the words got stuck in my throat. I stared at the plain wooden box, my thoughts and emotions in chaos. I knew it was impossible. I watched him die; he was gone. Yet I was certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the casket was empty.
If I hadnʼt been sitting down I would have collapsed.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts I didnʼt notice I was no longer alone.
“He was in love with you, you know.” Ashley Johnson was wearing what Iʼm sure passed as appropriate funeral clothes in her book - a black mini-dress, four-inch heels, and Jackie O
glasses. “Heʼs looking at you in that picture. Normally he looked so bored, but the moment you were around he lit up like the Fourth of July.” She swatted her hand at a tear that trickled down from beneath the glasses. “God, Iʼm such a horrid person.” Why was she talking to me? Couldnʼt she see that I was in the middle of something? I wanted her to go away so that I could think.
“I took that picture,” she said with a tear saturated voice. “I took lots of them. Pictures of you two together when you thought no one was watching. Pictures of you sneaking off into closets and empty classrooms.
“Do you know how hard it is to live in your shadow? How hard it is to look at your perfect family, your perfect best friend, your perfect grades and know that nothing in my life will ever live up to that? You have always had everything and then you took him too.” It was as if she was suddenly speaking Mandarin. What was she prattling on about? And why would she think that I cared? I needed her to leave me alone.
“I just wanted to take something away from you, to knock you down a level. So I took pictures to gather proof. Jase would have never believed me if I just told him outright. He hates me. You made sure of that.
“On prom night I gave Jase the pictures and told him how I overheard your plans to meet the next night. He was livid. He started rambling about full moons and suicide attempts and God only knows what else. Charlie, however, was completely sober and unmoved. He gave me my pictures back and told me to go have inappropriate relations with myself.” The waterworks started, mascara tracks ruining her flawlessly made-up face. “When Tinsley called to tell me you were in the emergency room, I was happy. Happy.” She let out a short bark of a laugh, loud enough that several people turned to look at her. “I thought Jase had come looking for you and found you with Alex. I thought...I thought you two had gotten into a fight, a real knock-down, drag-out fight with all of your karate kicks and judo chops. I imagined you with a black eye, maybe a broken arm. And then they said that you werenʼt expected to live through the night, and I knew it wasnʼt Jase, but still I felt so guilty. Like it was my fault that coyote attacked you.”
I had to be emotionally numb. That was the only way to describe it. I didnʼt feel angry or horrified or pity or any emotion that would have made sense. I felt nothing. Nothing at all.
“Remember that time I got the stomach flu when you were staying at my house? You stayed up with me all night, holding my hair back every time I puked.” The sun peaked out from behind a cloud reflecting off the snot that ran out of her nose. “You were a good friend, and I screwed it up. I miss you.”
I couldnʼt even pretend to feel the same. “Do you still have those pictures of Alex and me together?”
“Theyʼre still in the Gucci clutch I took to prom.”
“Can I have them?” I hoped what my mouth was doing looked more like a smile than a grimace. “I donʼt have any pictures of him.”
“Of course! Iʼll even put them in an album and everything!” The thing about Ashley was that she was easy to comfort, always had been. Her guilt was instantly assuaged by my request, our friendship restored in her mind. That wasnʼt to say she wouldnʼt try to sabotage my life yet again tomorrow, but for now she was pacified.
Ashley started to babble on about something or another to do with what I had missed at school over the past week, now oblivious to the open grave not five feet from where we were standing. I was resisting the urge to push her in when Talley appeared at my elbow. She tactfully got me away from Ashley, noting that I was beginning to burn under the midday sun, and escorted me towards a small crop of trees.
The moment we separated ourselves from the masses, a man cut across the cemetery towards us. When Talley saw him she whispered a profanity under her breath, putting me on guard.
He was solidly built, possibly in his forties or fifties. He might have passed for attractive at some point in his life, but now he just looked worn out. A scar ran from his right temple down to the corner of his lip, mangling his bushy eyebrow as it passed through.
“Harper Donovan?” His accent was unusual. I thought it could be Eastern European or maybe even Russian.
“Yes, Iʼm Ms. Donovan.”
“Ms. Donovan, I am Stefan Vasile.” He extended a hand towards me. I instinctually wrapped mine even tighter against around my injured stomach. “I understand you were quite close to my nephew, Christopher.”
“Christopher? I donʼt know anyone named Christopher.”
“I am so sorry. I am forgetful.” He recovered from the awkwardness of the unreturned handshake by stuffing his hands into the pockets of his suit. “When the boys ran away they assumed new names. I believe you knew him as Alex.”
“I knew Alex.” My voice held steady, my breath even.
“Perhaps you can help me. I am looking for his brother. The two ran away after their parents died in a house fire, and weʼve been desperately looking for them ever since. And now, with little Christopher gone...” He trailed off, looking forlornly where the funeral service had been conducted. Most people had left, only a few stragglers lagged behind. “It would mean so much to the family if I could bring his brother home. Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”
I met the dark brown eyes of the man who was not Alexʼs uncle and repaid Liam for saving my life. “He was always talking about how much he loved living in a warmer climate. If I was you, I would look south.”
“South? Are you sure?”