Page 60 of Switch!
They haven’t told him. I don’t understand why until Eddie keeps speaking.
“I feel bad. I was driving like a maniac because of this girl and uh…” He tries to lean forward so he can whisper. “I wasn’t entirely sober, you know? I’m the one who dragged him to that party too, so if something happens to him—” Eddie shakes his head, his voice cracking. “—I’d never forgive myself.”
“These things happen,” I reply. “Accidents, I mean.” I’m tempted to let Jesse take over again. Maybe he would know the right words to say. “I’m sure Caleb feels bad too.”
“For what?” Eddie asks. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He was drinking too. I’d imagine. He probably didn’t use his best judgement or he would have made you slow down or… I don’t know. Just don’t drive so recklessly, okay? You’re not invincible.”
“I realize that now,” Eddie says, jiggling his cast before wincing again. “Ugh. I think I’m due for more of those pills.”
“You feel okay though?” I ask. “It’s just a broken arm?”
“In two different places, but yeah. And I have road rash all the way down my back to my ass. I sure hope it doesn’t scar. Hey, what about Caleb? Did he break anything?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll check on him next.”
“Cool. Can you give him a message for me?”
“Yes. That I can do.”
“Tell him I’m sorry. I should have been looking out for him instead of worrying about getting laid or whatever. He’s my homie. I shouldn’t have risked his life like that. I really fucked up.”
“I bet he’s already forgiven you,” I say, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “If the situation were reversed, would you hold a grudge against him?”
“No way!”
“Remember that. I’m sure Caleb doesn’t want you beating yourself up over this. No matter how many broken bones he has or… or whatever. Don’t waste time feeling guilty. Live a good life instead. That’s what I want for you.” When he looks at me funny, I add lamely, “It’s a paramedic thing. We worry a lot.”
“You must have seen some crazy stuff, huh?”
I think of a body bag being zipped over a face that used to belong to me. “Yeah.”
I stick around a little longer. Eddie asks me to put the phone in his left hand and we laugh about how much harder it is for him to key things in. I don’t stay long, too nervous that I’ll let something slip about Caleb’s death, or who I really am. Both then and now. What a confusing mess.
“Time for me to continue making the rounds,” I say while getting to my feet.
“Cool.” Eddie’s face becomes strained. “Tell him what I said, okay? Especially the part about being sorry. Hold up! I’m going to shake your hand no matter how bad it hurts. Thanks for helping me, man. I really appreciate it.”
I wrap my fingers around his, the rough edge of the cast scratching me, but I don’t want to let go. Even though I have to.
“Take care of yourself,” I say before leaving.
“You too. Stop by anytime, okay?”
I nod but don’t promise that I will. This was hard enough. He’ll find out what happened to Caleb eventually. I’m not sure I can handle being there for that. I already feel guilty enough.
— — —
I decide not to see Sarah that day. She took off work for my birthday. Showing up at her apartment to break the news and give my condolences would be painful for everyone. I don’t want to put Jesse through the turmoil. He needs to move on from yesterday’s trauma. Not wanting to influence his actions with my sorrow, I retreat into my black box again.
I soon become bored enough to experiment, toying with a swirling orb of light by cycling through the colors of the rainbow. Then I turn it into a flaming sphere, sparks drifting harmlessly to the obsidian floor. I check on Jesse briefly to make sure he isn’t fighting off a subconscious desire to put out a fire, but it seems that whatever happens in the black box stays there. Jesse is talking to his mother on the phone, seemingly unaware of my activities. I miss my own mom, so when I return to the black box, I intend to conjure her up like I did before. I change my mind at the last moment and think of Sarah instead.
She appears before me, imperfectly at first. I focus on recreating her face until I can see the freckles on her nose. Her short blonde hair glows with the light of a sun that isn’t there. The details on the edge of my vision aren’t as vivid. Her body is incomplete, like a Greek statue that lost pieces over time. I have to concentrate on where her arms should be before they appear. They’re still there when I’ve finished her waist and legs. I’m able to hold all of her in my mind, completing the picture. My joy at seeing her again quickly ebbs. Sarah isn’t moving. I can wish for her to blink, and she will, but she’s no more than a lifeless doll. This only makes me miss her more. I want the real version, not some imaginary copy, so I banish the apparition and turn my attention to my surroundings.
Being alone isn’t a challenge for me, but I need more than an empty room. I conjure up one of the wooden chairs we had in the kitchen back home. Then I remember that I never found them comfortable and opt instead for a golden throne. This is more of a challenge, since I have to invent the details. I opt for ornate carvings of woodland creatures and a purple velvet cushion. When I settle down onto this and glance around, I recognize what a poor kingdom I’ve surrounded myself with. A black room and nothing else. I could change that by dreaming up a palace flanked by luscious gardens, but the thought turns my stomach. The McCains are grieving the loss of their son. I can barely stand to think how Sarah is feeling now. To indulge in luxury feels wrong, but I am still human and need some comfort, so I begin to recreate the bedroom where I grew up. I start with the bed and dresser before adding personal possessions, challenging myself to get each one right, even down to which books were on my shelves and the order I had them in. Much like before, once I settle on each detail, I don’t have to concentrate to maintain its existence. That’s a relief. I have no idea how any of this works, although I never had to consciously maintain my memory before. That happened automatically. Maybe this is similar.
I check on Jesse periodically to make sure none of this troubles him. He seems fine, although time in the outside world continues to pass faster than I expect. I surface on one occasion to discover an entire night has gone by. Jesse is wearing a different outfit and is seated in the office of his boss, Shirley, who is the owner of the ambulance service. I check his thoughts. He wants her to put him back on the schedule. She asks him to speak with a counselor first. Jesse doesn’t like the idea. I do, so I encourage him to go.You’ve never dealt with this before, but you will again. Better make sure you’re equipped to handle it.At the very least, Colin will worry less.These thoughts seem to convince him. Jesse accepts her offer.
