Ashes to Ashes

I COME DOWNSTAIRS AND WHIP PAT WITH MY hoodie. He’s on the couch in his boxers, eyes closed, sleeping while Dad watches some fishing show on the TV from his La-Z-Boy. “Where’s my charger, scrub? My phone’s dead.”

Pat rolls over and groans. “Kitchen table. Nobody’s calling you anyway.”

I trade my dead phone for Pat’s on the kitchen countertop. As I do, I spot an envelope from Oberlin tucked inside one of Pat’s racing magazines. As soon as I see it, my heart explodes. I run back into the living room, screaming, “How long has this been here?” It isn’t a huge envelope, but it’s not a small one either.

Pat shoots straight up. The left side of his mouth glistens with drool. “What? Kat, what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I got a letter from Oberlin!” It’s postmarked March 31, but it’s practically the middle of April.

Pat rubs his eyes, hard. “What? I told you about that.”

“No, you didn’t!” I scream.

Dad clicks up the volume. “Kat, relax. It’s probably some dorm information.”

Whoops. I forgot all about the fact that I never told Pat or my dad that I haven’t actually been accepted into Oberlin yet. “Never mind,” I say, and I go back to the kitchen and sit down at the table with the envelope.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to black everything out as I slide my finger along the envelope seal. But I don’t see blackness. I see my mother.

Dear Katherine,

Oberlin is delighted to welcome you . . .

I’m in. I’m fucking in.

I walk back to the den to apologize to Pat. I was a bitch. But he’s back asleep, and Dad’s nodding off himself.

This is how it’ll be next year. The two of them here, without me.

I start to cry. I’ve spent years dreaming about getting off this island, but I don’t know if I really understood what it will take to do it. What am I going to do without these guys?

I’m out walking Shep through the piney forest when I hear what sounds like loud music. I follow it and find Reeve’s truck parked in a clearing. There’s no road leading to this spot, just a dirt bike trail. He’s shaking his head back and forth, windows rolled up, the music of his radio blasting. He tips a bottle to his lips.

Poor dude. Day drinking is not a good sign. Day drinking by yourself in the woods is a very, very bad sign.

I approach slowly. I don’t want to give the kid a heart attack. I cut a diagonal through the woods so he can see me through his windshield.

And that’s when I see Mary, sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Her head is turned, and she’s watching him like she’s a hungry lion and he’s a bloody piece of meat.

What the hell?

Shep starts going absolutely nutso. The dog’s so old, he barely has the energy to wag his tail, but suddenly he’s yanking me forward so hard I have to use both hands to hold on to his leash. I let him pull me toward the truck. Over his barks I call Mary’s name.

Reeve keeps his eyes closed. I don’t think he can hear me over the blaring music. But Mary hears me. She suddenly turns her head and meets my eyes. I’m up to the truck now, my hand on the door handle. And just as I pull it open, she disappears.

I swear to God, she just fucking disappears!

Shep lets out one more bark. And then he quiets down and sits next to my feet.

Reeve’s eyes fly open, startled. He quickly shuts off his radio.

“Jeez, Kat!”

I stare at him. Did he not just see Mary sitting freaking next to him? “What? What the hell is going on?” I look all around me, over my shoulders.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to be alone.”

Alone?

But Mary . . .

Maybe I’m dreaming? I’ve had so many weird dreams about her lately.

Reeve cracks open a new beer, tips it to his lips, and chugs it down in about four gulps.

“Reeve.” Damn. What the hell is going on here? Shep is amped up, sniffing around and growling. I let Shep up into the truck, climb in, and lock the door. “I . . . need to talk to you.”

Reeve gives me a sour look. “Dude, I just want to drink. I don’t want to talk.”

“You’ve got to stop this. I mean, come on. You’re destroying yourself!”

I figure he’ll call me out for being dramatic, but instead he says, “There’s nothing left to destroy. It’s over.” Reeve throws his empty bottle into the woods, and it shatters off a tree. He pops open another beer, turns to me, and says bitterly, “All thanks to Alex. He’s obsessed with her. That’s why he ratted me out.”

Reeve lifts the bottle to his lips, but this time I grab his arm and stop him. “For cheating on Lillia?”

Reeve stares at me. “What? I never cheated on Lillia. Are you crazy? He’s the one who told everyone about what happened in seventh grade.” He looks up at me, waiting for me to say something. “I know you’ve heard about how I bullied that girl until she freaking killed herself, so don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

I can hear my heart pounding. “Who cares what those dummies say? Rennie made up lies about me for freaking years, remember? Yeah, it was shitty what you did, but it’s not like the girl died. It was a suicide attempt.”

“She did die.”

“No, she didn’t.”

Reeve punches the steering wheel. “I don’t know why you’re arguing with me about this, Kat! I’m telling you she died, okay! She freaking died because I was an asshole! I can’t blame everyone at school for thinking I’m a big piece of shit, because I clearly am.”

I can barely breathe.

“What was this girl’s name?”

“Elizabeth Zane.” He chokes on the words. “I used to call her Big Easy.” He looks at me and blinks a few times as his eyes fill with tears. “Get it? Big E-Z. Aren’t I so fucking clever?”

Holy shit. There’s no way. No fucking way. “What did she look like?”

“Blond hair. Heavy.”

That sounds like Mary, back before she lost the weight. And she did say Reeve used to call her Big Easy.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” I whisper. “I mean, are you one hundred percent positive?”

Reeve looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Maybe I have. Mary is . . . dead?

No. I mean, that’s impossible.

But then I think about the occult books I took from Mary’s house. A bunch of them were dog-eared on the pages that talked about communicating with spirits, spirits who think they are still alive.

I can’t see; I can’t hear; I can’t breathe. I feel for the door handle and tumble out of the truck.

“Wait, where are you going?” Reeve asks.

“I—I—I need a ride. And you’re too drunk to drive me.” I walk around to Reeve’s side and pull him out of the driver’s seat.

“What? Come on, dude.”

He’s got a few more beers left in the truck. I dump them all out and say, “Just shut up and pass out.”

There’s only one person who can tell me, for sure, what the hell is going on with Mary. I take out my phone and look up directions to Greenbriar Sanitarium.