Big shock, right?
I leave him a message about Pixel
and about how Mom’s too high
to be any use
and about how
I really, really need
his help right now.
But I don’t know why I even bother.
When he sees the call’s from me,
he probably won’t even listen to it.
He’ll go right back to his
earth-shatteringly important meeting.
Just like he always does.
I hang up.
And a second later, the low battery warning
pops onto my screen.
Argh! I switch off my phone,
cram it deep into my pocket,
and grab hold of my head
to keep it from exploding.
All of a Sudden
I become aware
of Red’s eyes on me,
boring into me like two laser beams.
Then she shifts her gaze
down to her legs
and lets out a horrified gasp.
She brushes madly at her ankles,
then leaps onto the lounge chair,
pulls her knees up to her chest,
and begins
moaning and rocking
back and forth.
“Red . . . ,” I say. “What’s the matter?”
But she just starts pounding her fists
against the sides of her head, shouting,
“It’s not a wonderful life! It’s not!”
My Mouth Goes Dry as Dust
I catch hold of her wrists.
“Stop it!” I shout. “Stop it right now!”
She struggles a little and then gives up.
She stares at me with wild, unseeing eyes.
“It’s all my fault,” she croaks.
“My fault that Pixel is gone!”
“No it’s not, Red. You didn’t leave
that gate open—the gardener did.”
“But I was the one who told you
to leave Pixel in the yard,” she cries.
“I was the one who said it would be
animal cruelty to make him come with us!”
And then it hits me—I was the one
who chose to follow Red’s advice . . .
The advice of a crazy person.
It’s my fault . . . Mine . . .
“The Duke says
Pixel would still be here
if it weren’t for me,” she whispers.
“And Lana says he’s right. He’s right!”
And that’s when I begin to feel
all this rage bubbling up inside of me—
all this rage that’s finally
coming to a boil.
“Well, tell them both to shut the hell up!” I shout.
Red Shrinks Away from Me
As if I’ve uttered
the unspeakable.
“No thanks,” she starts chanting.
“I better not . . . I better not . . .”
For a split second, I contemplate
slapping her across her face—
like in one of those old movies
when someone does that
and the person who’s been slapped
calms right down
and says,
“Thanks. I needed that.”
But now Red’s curling up into a tight ball
and sticking her thumb into her mouth.
It’s obviously going to take
a whole lot more
than a slap across the face
to snap her out
of
this.
But I Don’t Know How to Help Her
So I lie down next to her.
Then I reach over and begin stroking
the top of her head.
Just like
I’d stroke Pixel’s head,
if he were here right now.
After a few minutes,
her eyelids begin
to flutter.
And a few minutes after that,
the sound of her heavy rhythmic breathing
tells me she’s fallen asleep.
I close my eyes,
match the rhythm of my own breathing to hers,
and try not to think about Pixel . . .
or about Noah . . . or about Cristo . . .
or about the fact that Red and I
never did call her mom tonight.
And now that the moment has passed,
she probably won’t ever be willing
to give me her number again.
I should have entered it into my phone
the second she told it to me.
What was I thinking?
Red was right.
It’s not a wonderful life.
Not even close . . .
Then Suddenly I’m Standing in the Chapel
And I’m reaching down to claw at the lid
of that closed coffin again.
But no matter how hard I try,
I can’t pry it open . . .
And now—
I’m inside of it!
And there isn’t any air . . .
And Pixel’s trapped in here with me!
He’s lying on his back,
scratching frantically at the lid,
his claws making no
sound,
blood streaming from his paws,
staining his white fur
red . . .
The Crashgrinding Roar
Of a garbage truck
stuns me awake at dawn.
I sit up and instantly notice
that Red’s not lying next to me.
My hand flies to my mouth.
But I tell myself to chill.
She’s probably
just in the bathroom.
I shout her name.
She doesn’t answer.
I dash to the bathroom door and knock.
No reply.
I shove it open.
Empty.
I check the garage.
Not there either.
Then my eyes flick to the spot
where we parked our bikes last night.
But where
there should be two—
there’s only one!
My Fingers Start Tingling
What was I thinking?
How could I have been so stupid . . .
so selfish . . . so freaking irresponsible?
I’ve been so worried about Pixel,
that until just now
I hadn’t faced the fact
that his disappearance
seemed to have pushed Red
over some kind of edge.
I can practically hear
The Duke’s voice,
growling inside my own head:
“If something
happens to Red,
it will be all your fault.”
And Lana shouting,
“How could you have taken
your eyes off her—even for a minute?”
I can imagine The Duke bellowing,
“Didn’t you learn your lesson
with Noah? And with Pixel?”
And Lana hissing,
“No wonder Cristo
wants nothing to do with you.”
Then She Bursts Out Laughing
And The Duke joins in,
the sound of their laughter
clanging like evil bells inside my skull.
I give my head a sharp shake.
But they keep right on
laughing,
the sound of it
growing louder
and louder and louder . . .
“Shut up!” I roar, stamping my foot.
“Shut up right now!
Both of you!”
I dig my fingernails into my scalp,
trying to claw their voices
out of my head.
And that�
��s
when I notice
the silence.
It’s So Total and Complete
That for a minute
I think maybe
I’ve gone deaf.
Then,
into the silence
rushes a question—
the question
I’ve been too terrified
to ask myself until now:
If I were Red,
what would I be thinking
about doing at this moment?
And a split second later
the answer rushes in
right after it,
like
a well-aimed
poison-tipped dart.
I Leap onto My Bike
Zip down the alley,
and zoom through the quiet streets . . .
Then, up ahead,
a yellow house catches my eye.
And when
I get closer to it,
I see that right in the center
of its front yard,
strung with hundreds
of tiny white Christmas lights,
is a lemon tree
loaded with fruit . . .
And all of a sudden
I’m thinking of lemonade.
And then
I’m thinking
of Noah . . .
But I Can’t!
I can’t think about Noah now.
I’ve got to stay focused!
So I force myself
to stop staring at that tree,
and just keep on
pedaling past it—
pedaling so fast
my legs are burning,
pedaling so hard
I can barely catch my breath,
pedaling as if my whole life
depends on it . . .
Knowing,
in the scaredest, deepest part of me,
that Red’s whole life
might.
When I Finally Get to Palisades Park
My heart’s pounding
in my ears.
I turn left
and tear along the path,
racing toward
the spot on the bluff
where I first
saw Red.
I’ve got to
get there—
got to get there
before it’s too late!
Then
I see
Red’s bike!
It’s leaning up against
the trunk of a palm tree.
I screech to a halt
and hop off my own bike,
shouting, “Red! Red!
Where are you, Red?”
I scramble
over the low fence,
ignoring the sign warning me
that the bluff’s not safe,
that it could crack off and tumble
down the cliff
any second now . . .
I Whirl Around and Around
My eyes darting
everywhere at once,
calling Red’s name till my throat’s so hoarse
I can barely whisper.
If her bike is here, why isn’t she?
Has my worst fear come true?
Has she already thrown herself
off the—
But
I won’t
even let myself ask
that terrible question.
I walk numbly toward the cliff,
stopping a few feet from the edge,
refusing to let myself look down over it,
scared that I’ll see Red’s broken body if I do:
tangled in the brush,
her arms and legs twisted
in impossible directions,
her dead eyes staring up at me
like two cold stones.
A Sharp Pain Rips Through My Chest
And I find myself thinking of Jimmy Stewart—
of him standing on that bridge
in It’s a Wonderful Life,
standing there
feeling like the people he loves
would be better off without him.
I think about Jimmy.
And about my brother.
And about Pixel and Cristo and Red . . .
And,
for the first time in my life,
I can almost understand
why someone
would want to jump
off a bridge.
Or off a cliff . . .
Did Red Feel Just Like Jimmy?
Did she inch closer
to the edge of the bluff,
the way I’m inching closer
right now,
a tsunami of grief and guilt and misery
whirling through her mind?
Did she tell herself it was all her fault
that Pixel went missing?
Did The Duke and Lana
urge her on?
Did they tell her how great
it would feel to just let herself go,
to just leap over the edge
and fly off into the sky
like a bird
released from its cage—
finally
free?
Did Red feel
just like Jimmy?
Did Red feel
just like
me?
My Body Feels So Heavy All of a Sudden
Like my limbs
have turned to lead.
I sink down onto the cracked cement
and stare straight ahead,
out across the deserted beach
at the pale gray ocean—
so strangely motionless
it looks more like
a photo of the ocean
than the real thing . . .
Then I take a long, slow look
around the park.
First to the left—
at the soft green grass,
the peaceful pathways,
the statue of Saint Monica.
Then to the right—
at the empty benches,
the palm trees swaying
in the early morning light,
the last of the fall roses
still clinging to life.
Is this what Red saw?
Just before she . . . she . . .
Then I Hear a Sound
A sound like a handful
of pebbles tumbling
down the bluff.
I whip my head
back to the left and see—
Red!
She’s standing
at the edge of the cliff.
Right at the very edge of it!
She’s just twenty feet away from me,
her arms spread out on either side of her
like a tightrope walker.
She’s Going to Jump!
I have to stop her!
But I can’t risk shouting her name.
I might startle her over
the edge.
I scramble silently to my feet
and fire off a quick prayer.
Just in case God’s listening.
Just in case God’s real . . .
And suddenly
my mind flashes on the angel.
The angel who saves Jimmy Stewart
in It’s a Wonderful Life.
And now—
I know exactly what to do.
I Begin Pretending to Cry
Very quietly at first,
gradually letting my sobs
grow louder.
Then
I take a step closer
to the edge of the cliff.
Loosely covering my eyes with my hands,
I shake my head from side to side
so I can sneak a peek at Red.
Has she noticed me?
Yes!
She has!
She’s Standing There Frozen
Just standing there staring at me,
still as the statue of Saint Monica.
I turn away from her,
letting my hands fall from my face.
Then I take another step forward,
and then another,
till my toes are almost
to the edge of the cement slab.
And that’s when I hear
Red’s stifled cry,
the sound of her footsteps
running toward me,
her choked voice,
quietly calling to me,
“Stop! Don’t! Please!”
And Then I’m Running Toward Her Too
And we’re flinging ourselves
into each other’s arms,
both of us crying now,
our tears shaking us,
letting all our relief,
all our grief
pour out
into each other.
We Cry
Until
we’re all cried out.
And we’re just standing here,
still holding on to each other,
my head resting on Red’s shoulder,
her head resting on mine,
when
we hear
a short
sharp
bark!
We Pull Apart and Lock Eyes
Both of us
too scared to turn and look.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper.
“You mean it wasn’t a hallucination?”
she whispers back.
But then we hear another bark.
And when
we whip around,
we see Pixel streaking toward us—
the most
beautiful white blur
in the world.
And we’re scooping him into our arms
and he’s licking us everywhere
and the three of us are a breathless jumble
of fur and fingers
and paws and ears
and skin and grin
and happy, happy, happy tears.
A Few Delirious Minutes Later
When we finally manage
to unjumble ourselves
and collapse onto
the nearest bench,
Pixel wags his fluffy tail
and looks at us like,
“Do you have any idea
how awesome it is to be leash free?”
I Can’t Help Cracking Up at This
And part of me
sort of half expects