Page 140 of Switch!
“Between the three of us then,” Patrick amends, “we’ll be able to convince her that this is real. Okay. Your turn.”
He relinquishes control to me. I’m surprised he knows how to do that. Then again, Patrick took to this concept quickly. He’s an impressive guy, when not lost in his own despair. I wish we could stay together but…
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say. “I’m not sure how much of my story you know, but I took a life. I didn’t mean to, and it wasn’t directly my fault, but it probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t forced him to switch with me. So if anything, knowing that you’re going to be okay makes me feel as though I’ve made amends. But not completely. I have unfinished business of my own. I need to go home, like you’ve done, to see how much can be put right.”
How will you do that without a body? Do you want me to go with you?
Being on the receiving end of thoughts that aren’t my own is strange. “You should stay here,” I reply. “You and Laura need to be together. What sort of message would it send if you left again so soon?”
I could tell her I’m packing up my things back in Tacoma. I don’t want to lie to her—
“Then don’t. This is where you need to be, Patrick.” I look over at Trixie. “We’ll figure something out. Trixie always has ideas.”
“Got a few already!” she says.
“So I guess what I’m saying—” I return my attention to the mirror. “—is that it’s time to say goodbye.”
Thirty-one ↔ Chapter
The airport is busy, making it hard to determine who will be on our flight so I can hitch a ride with them. Anyone will do, as long as they’re male and flying to Tacoma. Too bad I can’t possess Trixie. We tried again last night with the same painful result. For whatever reason, I’m limited to half the population.
“Is this where I check in for the flight to Tacoma?” Trixie asks a bald man in his fifties. She’s doing her best to help me find a good candidate. The others she stopped only shrugged before hurrying on their way. This one smiles.
“It’s the right place if you’re flying American.”
“Oh good!” Trixie replies. “Is that where you’re headed?”
“Sure is! Back to that good ol’ aroma.”
She laughs and thanks him. We watch as he gets in line at the check-in counter, but I don’t leap into his body just yet.
It’s been interesting, I think loudly.
Patrick is in control. We wanted it that way so I would be free to leave quickly, if necessary. “Do you have a second?” he asks. “I’ll make it quick.”
“Me?” Trixie says, “or do you mean—”
“I need to check myself in the mirror,” Patrick says meaningfully.
“No problem,” Trixie says. “I’ll keep an eye on our man and slow him down if need be.”
I’m not worried. We can see the line for the security screening from here. Patrick walks to the family restroom, which is larger and private with a door that can be locked, for people with more involved needs. That certainly describes us at the moment.
“I wanted to thank you,” Patrick says while looking into the mirror. “Not necessarily for saving my life. I’m grateful, of course, but you gave me something even better. Hope. Before we met, I’d decided God couldn’t possibly exist. If such a being existed, how would they ever justify taking a child’s life? I’m still not sure about that, to be honest, but you’ve shown me that we’re more than just our frail bodies—that part of us might live on after we die. If that’s the case…” Patrick’s chest heaves with emotion. “It means Serena is still out there somewhere. I’ll get to see her again.”
“But only when it’s your natural time,”I think in response, still concerned about him having a relapse. He’s happy now, sure, but what if things fall apart between him and Laura?
“I’ll never try that again,” Patrick assures me. “If I had taken my own life… Not only would I have hurt those who love me, but I would have missed out what had seemed impossible. And what should be impossible! Scientifically, anyway.”
“Even I don’t believe it sometimes,” I reply. “And since this started, there have been moments when I wished it wasn’t real. But not now. We both have troubled pasts, and you gave me the opportunity to make amends. I’m glad we could help each other. And that we met.”
Emotion wells up inside Patrick. He stares into the mirror for a moment, and it’s like we’ve locked eyes. I feel more connected to him than ever before. He nods and we leave the restroom.
Trixie rushes over to us with an apologetic wince. “He snuck by me while I was checking my phone,” she says.
We follow her gaze to the security line. My ticket out of here is emptying his pockets into a plastic tub. We’re out of time.
“Stay in touch,” Patrick says to Trixie. “You know my phone number, along with just about everything else.”
