Using my key.
Nothing.
The door swings open, and there’s Abs, smiling for a second until she realizes it wasn’t me at the door, locked out or playing games.
“Mrs. O’Connell?”
“Yes?” she frowns.
I laugh, “Abby, you’re not Mrs. O’Connell. You kept your last name in honor of your parents.”
Nobody hears me.
I feel heavy.
Frozen.
I call out, “Mom…Dad!” as they appear on either side of my wife.
My voice disappears as the policemen explain, “There’s been an accident, Ma’am. Your husband was hit by…”
His words lose their volume as I reel backward, and experience the reality of weightlessness for the first time.
“No!”
I can’t be dead.
It can’t be over.
Not this young.
Not tonight! Our anniversary. And another party ending in tragedy for Abby.
She reels backward at the same time I do, stricken, and collapses into Mom’s stunned arms. Dad’s trying to speak, but can’t. Mom reaches for him, and he grabs her hand, breaks down in tears with them.
Suddenly I’m not in the hallway anymore. I’m above our deck, hovering over triangles of twinkle lights I hung myself when we moved in and have replaced twice.
I look down.
But can’t see my body.
My legs, feet, torso, arms, hands.
Things I’ve taken for granted.
Gone.
What am I?
I’m just…here.
There’s Mom running out whispering to Lorna before she falls into the chair Lorna abandons to tell Arthur so he’ll stop playing music. Arthur passes the news to Tom and Jen. The domino effect continues as I fly higher and higher watching them grow smaller and smaller, a gathered circle of despair.
Abby…
No…
Please!
Don’t take me from her.
She can’t lose me like this.
Abs’ll never recover.
Chapter 7
Max
Darkness.
All I see is darkness.
If seeing is really the right word.
Empty is better.
Yeah.
Wait.
There’s our deck.
I’m not gone.
It’s getting closer.
Am I doing this?
What is this anyway?
Flight?
I can’t feel anything.
Must be me though.
Wait.
That’s not her grey dress, the one she chose because it matched my button-up. She’s in black.
Oh.
So is everyone.
This isn’t our anniversary.
It’s my wake.
Should be called sleep.
Fucking bullshit.
I can’t believe this.
“Abby! I’m sorry.” She’s staring off at nothing, sitting here by herself in the same place Lorna was. “Abby! Please look at me. I’m so sorry, Abs. I want to fix this.”
A tug pulls on me and I see Barry heading into the apartment. Suddenly I’m inside, watching him enter from the deck.
Lorna.
Arthur.
Jen.
Tom.
They don’t see him.
Not at first.
They’re lost in grief. Jen and Tom embracing. Lorna cleaning like Mom does. Arthur, cross-armed, leaning against our fridge, head down.
“Guys! It’s Max! I’m right here!”
Arthur looks up but not in my direction, and not because he heard me. He didn’t.
It was Barry he feels in the room. His head careens backward on his neck in shock. “What kind of balls does this take?” He pushes off the fridge. “I mean wow!”
“Hey. Arthur. He was my best friend.”
“Lot of good that did him!”
Tom steps forward with rage in his eyes.
Never seen him like this before.
Normally so passive.
Are they gonna fight?
Here?
“No, guys. Don’t do it. Abby will hate that. Think about her for a second!”
Tom’s eyes narrow. “You really gonna say that now, Barry?”
Lorna tries to wedge between them, “Okay, cut it out! We're all hurting here!” but they’re not budging.
Arthur throws an accusing finger at Barry. “We wouldn't be, if this guy could hold a drink down.”
Barry shoots back, “Fuck you!”
Tom jumps in front of him as Arthur loses his shit, shouting, “Max is gone, and you can't undo it!”
Tom sneers with tears in his eyes, “He’s not worth it, Arthur.”
“Oh my God!” whispers Jennifer, pacing.
With both hands Lorna grabs our friend’s arm. “Arthur, take a walk with me.”
Jennifer gasps, “Yes! Go take a walk. Get some fresh air!”
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” Barry says and the whole room felt it.
Except me.
Arthur’s anger doesn’t know where to go now. I’m sorry is a powerful antidote. He lets Lorna guide him to the front door. They pass Barry, pass me, and walk out.
Suddenly I’m next to Mom, seeing her tears where she was hiding them just outside our front door. I know why she’s here. It’s where she caught Abby and I making out. That’s what she’s thinking — how quickly the party turned from fun to the end of my life.
“Mom…”
The door swings open and Arthur and Lorna appear, and freeze at the sight of Mom. He gulps down his regret, sincerity in his, “I’m sorry, Mrs. O’Connell.”
Arthur walks right through me, and I watch him leave, wondering why he couldn’t feel that.
Why I couldn’t either.
I step back to avoid Lorna passing through my ghost, and glance down to realize my legs are back. Arms. Hands. All of it.
I turn to Mom, left alone out here in the hallway missing me, her only son, her only child.
“Mom! I’m here.” I tell her, but it doesn’t seem like she can hear my voice. I hear it, but nobody else does? I try again, my heart aching with her. “I’m still here.”
She breaks down, covering her ears.
“Mom! Could you hear me say that? Can you hear me?!!”
She slides to the floor, rolled in a ball.
Sobbing.
While I stay by her side.
Unable to help her.
The worst torture I can imagine.
Suddenly I’m on the deck.
Mom is, too.
What the…?
That’s weird.
I didn’t see her get up or walk into my apartment.
I didn’t float to the deck.
I’m just…here.
Everyone’s barely talking. Mom’s sitting at the bar, eyes blank as our friends Phil and Veronica try to discuss other things that might take her mind away from this tragedy.
Dad’s standing nearby, staring off, regal but lost.
“Dad!”
He doesn’t flinch.
“Mom!”
Mom turns her head in my direction.
“Ma, did you hear what I just said?”
She gets up, and walks right through me.
I flip around, and see who she was really looking at.
Barry.
Walking up to my father.
And she escaped.
“Henry, I…”
Dad evades the inevitable apology by changing the subject. “What’d you two talk about on the way home?”