Perfect. Part 38

Sean

Never Again. Never again.

Few things create never again like death. Biting the big one, and not talking burgers.

Kicking the bucket.

Taking a one-way trip to who-knows-where.

Is there a heaven? h.e.l.l?

I mean, who can really say what happens after the lights go out? Is there a "h.e.l.lo" after the final good-bye?

Word Travels Fast Along the "someone died"

grapevine. It might not always be accurate, so you have to do some double checking to make sure what you heard is something close to true.

I heard about Conner from Duvall, not exactly the most reliable source.

But this time, it seems, he was right. Conner fell off a cliff, somewhere out in the Black Rock Desert.

He was on a wilderness challenge. Still not clear why.

Not like Conner couldn't hack a challenge course. But why was he there? And did he fall by accident? On purpose?

h.e.l.l, maybe someone pushed him over. Some pretty rough kids go on those challenges.

Rougher than Conner, who was a total prep, if a jock prep.

Was. Hard to use the past tense when talking about someone you know. Someone your age.

Someone who could be you, if things were a little different.

Aubree and I are going to the wake. I didn't want to. Not like Conner and I were tight or anything.

Plus, dead people give me the creeps. Too many bad memories. Ghosts, walking.

But Aubree says we have to.

It's expected. Everyone will be there. They'll talk if we aren't.

Not Going To Argue Dad would expect me to go.

Conner and I were teammates, if not friends. The team will all be there, for sure. The least you can do when a teammate dies is go to his wake.

They're having it at the biggest funeral home in Reno. Aubree was right.

Everyone is here, to judge by the parking lot. "We have to park on the street and walk."

It's a long few blocks, made easier by sneaking peeks at Aubree's legs, mostly exposed by the very short skirt of her black dress.

Everyone is in black except me. I wore navy blue, just to shake things up. Oops.

Okay. Cara is not in black.

She's in a dark red dress that fits her like skin and she is beautiful, even in her obvious grief. Or maybe because of it. She looks like a child. Vulnerable. Easy to hurt. Aubree notices who I'm staring at. She elbows me. Kind of inappropriate.

Maybe. But I still want to go to her, hold her, despite her girlfriend (hair no longer blue) standing so close there can be no doubt that they are an item. I turn away, take Aubree's hand, and we go down a far aisle to find two seats way in the back.

Who sits up front at a wake?

I Watch Who Goes Up Front Conner's family. His father, who walks all bound up, like if he lets himself sway at all he might stumble and fall. Conner's mother, who looks straight ahead, no hint of expression on her beautiful, sculpted face.

Cara, her own face a carbon copy. Except hers is sorrow streaked. Her girlfriend, who scaffolds Cara. Kendra and her mother. Shantell, with some guy I've never seen before. And just in front of them, a young couple. Maybe my age. Also strangers, but apparently not strangers to Conner. They hold tight to each other, struggle not to fall apart.

Andre

Strangers Death gives strangers common ground to walk on.

Encounter obstacles on.

To fall down and cry on until it sponges their tears.

Muddied, they struggle to pick themselves up, clean off the dirt, st.i.tch their wounds, and together fight, no longer strangers, to get on with living.

I Never Knew Conner Sykes or anyone in his family, I'm only here because Shantell didn't want to come alone.

She brought me up front, close to Cara, who I did meet that one time. She seems different. Older, touched by death. Sitting next to her mother, I can see what she will look like one day, when she is older still.

It's an open casket. From here, the boy inside appears to be sleeping. Only his mostly colorless face gives his lifelessness away. He is-was- younger than I when he left this earth. He will never marry.

Never have children. Never find his way back from wherever it was that he lost himself. He will never live his dreams, whatever they were.

Did he have them? Lose them? Can you lose sight of a dream that you don't have time to discover?

I think of Grandma Grace, who will leave this planet soon. Did she have dreams she never realized?

I will ask her when I go visit her. I don't want to see her sick, but I have to tell her I love her. That I will miss her. That she helped make me what I am today.

A dancer. That's what I am. Only a few people know it at this moment. But that's going to change.

One Of Those People Is sitting next to me right now. A year ago, I wouldn't have given her a second glance. Wouldn't have gotten to know her because she isn't a cla.s.sic beauty. Doesn't have curves like Jenna. Isn't model thin like Kendra.

But she is pretty, and perfect in her own way, because she knows who she is and doesn't pretend to be anyone else. Doesn't care who she pleases, as long as she is good with herself, and what else really matters?

Shantell has her eyes firmly on her dream.

Is reaching hard for it, and encouraging me to reach for mine.

Tentatively, I slide my hand over hers.

The Vs between her fingers notch into mine, and she squeezes.

The Service Starts With recorded music. Pink singing "Amazing Grace." Beautiful and kind of weird at the same time. Like the singer.

Shantell glances at me, and we share a smile. She must be reading my mind. The priest gets up and spends much too long talking about G.o.d's plan and how to recognize it in our own lives. And now the eulogies begin. Conner's football coach outlines his many and varied records, then laments about talent the world will never see. Kendra stands, tries desperately to put her love for Conner into words.

She only manages a couple before they are swallowed by sobs.

More than a few people join her in tears.

A half-dozen schoolmates of Conner's say how much they'll miss him. Finally the priest calls a young couple to the front. They go forward, hand in hand. Hi, says the auburn-haired girl. I'm Vanessa.

You don't know me, but I got to know Conner in Aspen Springs. I think Tony and I knew him better than most of you. Conner was good at hiding the scared little boy inside.... At that, Kendra's crying becomes almost hysterical. Her mom does her best to console her as Vanessa continues, Conner couldn't be what everyone else wanted him to be. So he chose the easy way out.

Cara

Death Is only the easy way out if you are the one who dies.

At The Red-Haired Girl's Words Dad gives a little gasp. Mom barely flinches. Now the dark-haired boy says, I'm Tony. And Conner was my friend.

Maybe the only friend I ever had, except for one other person. Vanessa and I both loved Conner, and not because he scored touchdowns or got straight As. We loved who he was when he let his guard down.

When he let us see who he wanted to be, free of expectations. The real Conner.

We thought he was stronger than it turned out he was because he saved us both, more than once, and in different ways. I will never forget him.

What I want to tell you is what I think he would tell you, if he could.

Living means taking chances. Risks.

Playing safe all the time is being dead inside, even if you happen to still be breathing. People expected Conner to play it safe all the time. And when he did, he felt dead inside. I saw him take risks, and then he was the most alive person I've ever known. He would ask you to take chances. Sometimes that means getting hurt. Getting an F.

Losing a game. Losing someone you love. But if you always play it safe, you lose anyway. Tony turns, goes over to the casket, bends and kisses Conner. f.u.c.k you, dude. You should have hung around. Proved 'em wrong.

He Turns Back, Crying Which is fine, because everyone here is crying. Even Mom. She makes no sound, but her eyes glisten, and I think Tony has given her permission to break all the way down later. He gestures to Vanessa to come say good-bye. Protocol might dictate Conner's family go forward first. But I think Tony and Vanessa are Conner's family. Probably better family than the rest of us. Dani whispers, Thanks for taking a chance with me. She kisses me, in front of everybody. And I'm good with it.

Kendra

Chance Brought us together.

Tattered us twisted us wrenched us wide apart.

But it wasn't chance that ended you took you away from me forever.

People Move Forward To say their good-byes. But I'm afraid.

Afraid to see what's left of Conner.

Afraid I'll see too much. Too little.

Afraid that what I see will convince me it's not Conner at all. From here, the thing in the coffin looks like it's made of wax. A fake Conner, meant to fool us into believing he's dead. Maybe he's not dead at all. Maybe this is just some crazy scheme he came up with so he could get away. From school. From football.

From his family. From me. Maybe he's living large with Emily Sanders somewhere.

Oh my G.o.d. What's the matter with me?

Of course he's dead. Look at his parents.

At Cara. At those two-Tony and Vanessa.

He has leveled them. Shredded them.

I would say he got the final laugh, but would he laugh, knowing what he's done to them? Knowing what he's done to me?

Kendra, says Mom. Don't you want to say good-bye? She stands, takes my hand, coaxes me to my feet. I let her lead me forward. My head is light.