Certainty (25 page)

The snow continued to fall, and James and I sat at the window and watched its progress for a while. It fell soft and slow, the snowflakes unhurried in their task. It always amazed me that snow, so delicate and light, could cover the ground and all in its path, one snowflake at a time.

I always wanted to make everything happen right now, but a little snowflake and some snowflake pals could change the world, one at a time. I couldn’t ever be that patient.

Maybe for Derek, I could. I could wait for him to wake up and remember who we were, even if it was one memory at a time. I could wait for him to talk to us, finding each word, painstakingly searching his disoriented mind, chasing down words that hid themselves.

Right before dinner he woke up again. I almost started crying again. It was real. He really was coming back to us. I could tell it was miraculous for my parents, too. He looked at our faces, maybe remembering them from the first time he woke up.

“Hi,” he said to the people who would always be there when he opened his eyes. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MacKenzie

School was a strange place for me now. Everyone knew me because my brother went into a coma, but now that he’d come out of it, it was even more dramatic, I guess.

The gossip traveled to everywhere at school. I tried to remember everyone who wished Derek well but after a while it was impossible. I didn’t know so many people were pulling for him until now.

The first day after Derek woke up I walked into homeroom and saw Kyle, already sitting at his desk. Ren had texted the good news to him, so I was sure he knew.

He looked a little tired and he had stubble on his chin, but when we locked eyes I knew he was going to be all right. He sat, leaning back in his chair as I walked over.

I was so happy to see him, ordinary and okay, his sandy colored hair in his eyes, his backpack thrown at his feet. He stood up, and I put my arms around his neck, my backpack thumping us both as it fell off my shoulder. He picked me up and my feet swung off the floor and kicked his shins. He laughed, shaky and low.

“I’m happy Derek is getting better,” he said.

“Thanks,” I paused and added, pretty sure he would know what I meant, “Everything’s okay.”

I could feel him smiling against my face. “I know.”

********************************

The doctors told us that there was a good chance Derek’s memory would come back, but we needed to help him.

James and I went to the hospital after school to talk with Derek a little every day. It was easier for us now, especially for James, because Derek could talk back.

His hospital room was filled with cards from his friends at church and school and a few balloons to cheer him up. He couldn't read the cards, so Mom read them to him, several times to help him become familiar with the names.

One day after school I flipped through the yearbook with Derek, while James sat next to us doing his homework. Mom sat with us, pointing out the faces of Derek's football team.

Derek's eyes went over the faces but it was the curiosity of a stranger, light and somewhat interested. He didn't peer at them looking for the little things, like if Jeff's hair was sticking up in his picture or that Benji refused to smile.

"Remember last year Benji crossed his eyes and the photographer just thought he had vision problems?" I said, laughing about it. "His mom was so mad. She had an 8x10 of Benji with his eyes crossed."

Derek looked closer at the picture, a curl of his dark brown hair falling over one eyebrow. I got a smile out of him, but it was slight--faint amusement at an anecdote about people he didn't know.

He sighed and rubbed his head. Mom put the book down, her hand going to the scar on his forehead. "Is this making your head hurt?"

He shrugged and his eyes got teary. Mom and I looked at each other, trying to figure out what had upset him.

"I'm not the same," he said, and his voice choked on the words.

I felt tears prick my own eyes. I suddenly realized that it didn't matter if Derek was different--what mattered is how he felt about it. I didn't want him to be better as much as I wanted him to be happy. Nothing else that had happened meant more than his happiness. If only he could somehow be all right with the way he was.

"So?" I said. "You don’t have to be the same. We like you just the way you are."

He pressed his mouth tight and more tears fell down his face. "No. No...no..." He gave up the struggle to find the words.

Mom's eyes were filled with tears, too. "Derek, Kenzie is right. We don't care about your memory, or reading or knowing names. We don't care about any of it. We only care that you are still with us. It's all we want. We're so glad we get to keep you. We’re all really lucky, Derek."

He shook his head, still gritting his teeth. "I want...to get words. And know..." he pointed at the book, tapping it hard with an angry finger. "Know the people."

Mom held his hand. "Then we will work every day. We'll learn more and more words and you'll remember names. We'll work hard."

He nodded, but his jaw was still clenched in frustration. "I don't know you...it makes me mad."

Mom closed her eyes and I realized how much it hurt that Derek didn't know he was her son. "It will come."

That night I dreamt about the black and white dress I didn't wear to Homecoming. In my dream I could feel the silky white chiffon against my legs as I danced with Ren. He had one hand around my waist and it tickled my back a little. I tried not to ruin the moment by laughing. His other hand held mine as we danced. I wanted to touch the bare back of his neck, the spot right under his hair and between his collar, but I didn't. I heard him say, "Derek is coming to the dance."

"No, he's learning some words. He can't come."

"He's already here."

I turned and Derek was standing by the punch bowl in his pajamas, drinking punch and looking around. He had the same new look in his eyes that he carried with him since the accident, vague and uncertain. A tight panic squeezed my chest. I was so afraid that everyone at the dance would make fun of Derek's pajamas. It wasn't his fault--he didn't know what to wear to a dance. I pleaded with Ren to help me get Derek home before anyone noticed.

I woke, upset. It was still dark. I grabbed my phone from under my pillow and texted Ren.

I had a bad dream

The sent message blinked for a moment and disappeared. He wouldn’t get it until tomorrow morning. It didn’t matter. I just wanted him to know I was scared. He always made me feel better.

I put it back under my pillow, laying in the dark and looking at my wall. My pillow buzzed. How did he know I needed him? How much of the future was he seeing now? Could he see more than he used to?

About what?

Derek   will his friends laugh at him?

No theyr his friends

Ok

I sent it and then sent another.
How do you know

Im magic lol no i know don’t worry

Thx

Your welcome go to sleep

I smiled and ran my hands over the keys for a moment before I texted back,
I love you.

My heart beat as I waited.

I love you too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Ren

I held the phone for a moment after I texted her. I didn't know the truth until I'd sent it to her. I did love her. Even if I wasn't ready. When she was happy, it made me happy. When she hurt, I'd do anything to fix it. Closing my eyes, I dropped the phone on my bed. I wasn't ready for this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

MacKenzie

I caught Noah kissing Katie in the hall after lunch. It was kind of sweet, and she looked up at him with a sappy smile. It was hard to tell what Noah thought about her because he was kind of like a cat—he always wore the same expression--something between arrogance and boredom.

They didn’t see me so I just slipped into Biology without saying hi. Mr. Leitner was passing out our labs from last week and everyone was already seated. I sat down and began doodling in my notebook, thinking about Derek. He was in a rehab hospital now because he needed to relearn how to walk. It was going quickly and his therapists all said he was lucky he hadn’t lost much of his coordination, maybe because he was so young.

Mr. Leitner finished handing out the labs and put his pencil down. “I’m going to run to the bathroom but I’ll be right back. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Sure,” a freshman piped up, his voice cracking.

“We’ve got it,” Stephanie assured him. Her long brown hair was held back with a headband and she looked freshly scrubbed and perky, even though it was the end of the day. I had no idea how she always managed to look so together. Even her notebooks were neatly organized and papers were never falling out of it. If she had to find an assignment it took her two seconds. Most of us had to shuffle through a bunch of crap. One time I had to turn a lab in late because it was stuck in a book as a bookmarker and I’d forgotten I’d put it there.

Mr. Leitner stared at Burke, who had his head down on one hand, his long hair falling over his face. His usual posture of abject despair when forced to sit in a classroom. “Burke? Did you hear me? ”

Burke looked up. “Number one or number two?”

Mr. Leitner sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door closed we all looked at Burke. He shoved his hair away from his face and smiled angelically at us.

Pushing my chair across the floor I wondered why Mr. Leitner had trusted Burke. The pile was getting tall.

Keith, a big defensive back for the football team who ate two hoagies every day at lunch and three chocolate milks, picked up my chair.

“I’ve got it,” he grunted, and stacked my chair on top of all the others against the door.

We all stepped back as the last chairs were hastily shoved against the pile. We’d done it so fast I almost didn’t believe it. Twenty-eight chairs were piled against the door, a giant mountain of chrome and plastic.

The freshman who’d piped up earlier tried to look out the window. “Here he comes!”

We all scattered away from the door, jumping up to sit on the lab tables to wait for him.

The door handle moved and  Mr. Leitner’s face appeared in the window. His eyes widened for a moment. We burst out laughing and cheering, and there was some applause.

Mr. Leitner’s mouth twisted into a wry smile and he pointed his finger at Burke. Burke jumped up on the table and did the moonwalk.

After school Mom took me and James to the rehab hospital to visit Derek. He shared a room with two other people. They had a big window with yellow curtains. The thin layer of snow from a few days ago had already melted—we didn’t usually have snow for very long.

Derek was sitting up and the TV was on. He’d learned to use the remote, or remembered, I’m not sure which. I joked that of course that would be the first thing he knew how to do.

He’d even understood me, which was cool, and smiled about it.

He didn’t have IV’s anymore and wore clothes from home instead of a hospital gown. He looked almost the way he used to, like he didn’t even belong in a hospital. I sat on the edge of his bed with Mom and James. James was wearing one of Derek’s shirts, claiming the laundry wasn’t done so that’s all he had. The short sleeves hung past his elbows and the neck sagged on his bony collarbone.

We were going through our family scrapbooks, and we came to the page where I was holding Derek as a baby. He looked at the picture with the curiosity of a stranger. "The baby is...big."

I grinned. "Fat."

There was a sudden spark in his eyes, bright and sharp that pierced through me. In that moment he recognized me, I knew it. He knew me. I held my breath, afraid the spark would dim and go out. Mom stared at him, her face hopeful.

Derek’s gaze went from me to Mom. “I know you,” he said and Mom’s eyes watered.

“Hey honey,” she said, her mouth breaking into a shaky smile.

Derek pointed to James. “You hit the..round…the ball.”

James glanced over at Mom, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I play soccer.”

“You’re good,” Derek said matter-of-factly. It was a flat declaration, devoid of pride. But it was knowledge from his own memories, not something we’d told him, so it was beautiful, even without any emotion. I realized that although he remembered us, he might not feel the same. He knew us, but there was still a strange disconnection.

James grinned. “Yeah. So are you. At football, I mean.”

Derek nodded. “Yes.”