Anyway, this was her last year in high school, and right now she was involved in what to her was the unbearable drama and suspense of applying to colleges, and I guess that’s what she was rattling on about. She herself had to get in to some art school in Virginia or she was going to die, just die, and I guess her friend Mandy had to go to California or she would likely die as well. Teenage girls die a lot, if my sister is any indication. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem to hurt them much.
Chewing that piece of cardboard meat, I looked at her from across the table. Her voice seemed to fade away and become muffled and distant. The remembered voice of Waterman returned, much louder, clearer, more real to me than Amy’s.
You’re going to be on your own a lot from now on, Charlie. On your own, in danger, afraid. I’d tell you to brace yourself, to get used to it, but I know from personal experience that you never get used to it.
“The suspense is killing me,” Amy said. “I swear if I get wait-listed, I’m just going to keel over on the spot…”
I chewed the tasteless meat, unable to swallow, knowing it wouldn’t go down past the lump in my throat. I looked across the table at Amy. More than anything, I wanted to get up, go over to her and put my arms around her. Strange as it was, annoying as she was, I suddenly realized I was going to miss her.
I will tell you this, Waterman had gone on as the limousine traveled through the hills. We chose you for a reason. Partly, sure, it’s just because you’re in the right place at the right time. But it was more than that. We chose you because we know you’re a warrior. We know when the going gets tough-and it’s going to get very tough, Charlie-we know you won’t surrender. In the end, that may be all we have going for us.
“You’re not eating, Charlie. Are you all right? Are you sick? Do you have a fever?” That was my mom: Saint Mom of Perpetual Anxiety.
I forced myself to smile at her reassuringly. It was hard to think about what it was going to be like for her when they led me away in handcuffs.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
I glanced at my dad. He gave me a knowing look as if to say, That’s your mom for you.
So it went on. It was nothing. It was dinner. It was my family. The usual thing. A week ago, I’d been more than ready to leave; I’d been aching to get out of the house, get out of town, move away, go to college and start my life.
But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Charged with murder. Taken to prison. Dropped into the midst of terrorists.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.
Now I was lying in my bed in the dark. For a moment, I wasn’t sure how I had come to be here so suddenly. I had a strange double sense of myself, as if I were at once here in bed and somewhere else at the same time, somewhere cold and far away where I was lying on the ground, twisting in pain…
Then that double sense was gone and I was just here, now. My last night in my own bed, in my own room. I was staring up into the shadows. A car was passing on the street outside. Its headlights traveled up the dark wall, across the ceiling, down the far wall to the window. Then it was gone. I always found that comforting somehow. It was a sign of life outside, a sign that there were people in my town who would be awake while I was sleeping.
I was still thinking about Waterman. I was thinking about how the limousine had brought me back to the reservoir, back to the spot where I’d parked my mom’s car. As it slowed to a stop, Waterman had said, There’s more to tell you, but you don’t need to hear it now. Someone will be in touch when the time comes.
Then he’d offered me his hand. I shook it.
Good luck, Charlie, he’d said. God knows you’re going to need it.
Now it was daylight. The last day of my old life. The beginning of my mission.
My bedroom was gone. I was outdoors. I was on the paved walkway by the Spring River. It was a beautiful place with grass leading down to the riverbanks and stands of birch trees all along the way. It was also our special place-mine and Beth’s. Ever since Alex’s death, we had come here to be together, to walk and talk and think things through.
There she was now, up ahead, waiting for me under the birch trees.
It was late autumn. The trees were almost bare. The grass was covered with their yellow leaves. Some of the leaves floated on the river, moving along its slow current. Some drifted down past Beth on the cool currents of air.
The feeling inside me as I approached Beth on the walkway was almost impossible to bear. She looked so good standing there. So pretty, so sweet, so happy to see me. At the sight of her, I thought: I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
But at the same time, I knew I could. I would. I had to.
As I got closer, Beth’s expression changed. She must’ve seen the strain in my face.
“Charlie?” she said, concerned. “Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
She reached out to me with both her hands. But I thought if I took hold of her, I would never be able to let her go. Instead, I tried to put a hard look on my face. I was just trying to seem sort of cold and reserved, but it took so much effort I think I ended up looking more angry and nasty than I meant to.
I stood apart from her. I hooked my thumbs in my pockets, trying to look tough. Trying to be tough. I’d been rehearsing what I would say through most of a sleepless night. I’d gone over it as I shaved and brushed my teeth. I’d been repeating it in my head as I’d walked over here. I had a whole speech memorized.
But now, now that I was looking into Beth’s eyes, I forgot the speech and just blurted out:
“Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but we have to stop.”
It sounded rough and hurtful even to me. Beth blinked, confused. Her hands sank back to her sides. “Stop what?” she said.
“Stop seeing each other,” I stumbled on. “We can’t see each other anymore.”
This wasn’t the way I’d meant it to be at all. I was trying to make this easy on her, but my smooth speech was already in shambles and these confused little utterances would only make things worse, only hurt her more.
“Charlie,” she said, with a little uncertain smile. “What’re you talking about? Why?”
I cleared my throat. I tried to sound firm and tough. “Well, because… We just should. That’s the way I want it, all right? It’s-I don’t know-it’s just getting too serious for me. After a while, we’ll go to college or whatever and… What’s the point, you know? Look, I just think it’s the right thing to do. I don’t feel the same way about you anymore and I-I just want to end it, that’s all.”
It didn’t sound firm and tough at all. Not to me anyway. It sounded like I was pleading with her, like I was begging her to just turn away, just run away so I didn’t have to go through this. I was begging her to spare me the pain of hurting her.
But she wouldn’t. She gazed at me. She had a strange look on her face. I had this weird, uncomfortable feeling that she was gazing right into me, right into my heart, reading the feelings there. Maybe she was doing exactly that, because now she said:
“You’re lying to me, Charlie. I never saw you lie before, but I know it when I see it. Why are you lying to me?”
I felt the blood rush to my head. How did she see through me so easily? How had I handled this so badly after all my rehearsing? Obviously, Waterman and his people should never have picked me for this job. I mean, if I couldn’t fool my own girlfriend, how was I going to fool a bunch of terrorists?
“I’m not…,” I started to say.
But Beth stepped forward, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “Yes, you are. I know it when I see it. You’re not doing this because your feelings have changed. You feel just the same…”
“No, I don’t.” Again, I was trying to sound tough, but instead I sounded like a petulant child. Beth had called me out, and I knew it and she knew it. All I could do was deny it, all the while knowing she didn’t believe me. I felt ridiculous. I wanted to turn my back and just run.
Beth pressed home her advantage. “Yes, you do, Charlie. Don’t lie.” I couldn’t even meet her eyes. I looked away. “Tell me what’s the matter,” she insisted.