Charlie St. Cloud Page 0,74

vault and stood looking down on the harbor below. God, he would miss Sam and their mischief. Then the wind picked up, the trees in the forest began to shudder, and a flurry of crimson oak leaves floated down, twirled in front of him, and blew away.

Sam was there, Charlie knew right away. His brother was all around him in the air, the sky, the sunset, and the leaves. Those games of boyhood catch were best left in his memory. But he couldn’t resist. On his last day at Waterside, there was one more place to go.

THIRTY-FOUR

THE HIDDEN PLAYGROUND WAS SILENT. NO FUSSING BIRDS, no frantic squirrels, no spirits drifting. It was 6:51 P.M.

Charlie paced from the dirt mound to home plate and then back again. He wanted to remember every inch—the cedar grove, the swing, the bench. Where was Sam now, he wondered. What he wouldn’t give to have his kid brother stop by for one final farewell.

Charlie drank in the sylvan setting, memorizing the color of the leaves and the angles of the light. He knew he would never return again to this crepuscular realm, and soon the clearing itself would be gone. The forest would overrun the ball field, and no one would even know it had ever existed.

The thought brought tears to his eyes. This had been the most important space in the world to him, but he had made his choice and now there was somewhere else he needed to be. He took a deep breath, inhaling the musty fragrance of autumn, and was about to go when he was startled to see a young man walking across the grass. At first, he wondered who else had discovered the hidden playground. In thirteen years, no one had ever penetrated this sanctuary.

The intruder was tall, at least 6¢3≤, and his shoulders were square and broad. His face was narrow and long, his hair was curly, and his shining eyes were unmistakable.

Charlie gasped in astonishment.

It was Sam.

“Hey, big bro,” he said with a smile.

Charlie couldn’t speak. Gone were his brother’s Sox cap, baggy shorts, and high-tops. He was wearing a bomber jacket, jeans, and boots.

“Look at you!” Charlie said.

“What?”

“You’re a man.”

“Yes,” he said, “I’m finally a man and I can do what I want.”

They were face-to-face now, and Charlie realized that his brother was glimmering like a hologram with luminous surfaces. Sam was now a reflection of the past and the present and a projection of the future—all he had been and all he wanted to be.

Charlie threw his arms around his brother’s evanescing shape and was stunned that they couldn’t touch. His grasp held nothing. Sam was no longer in between. He was ether now, but Charlie could still feel his warmth and the strength of the connection.

“You crossed over,” he said.

“I did.”

“And how is it?”

“Beyond anything we ever imagined, Charlie. It’s mind-blowing. You’ll see.”

“So how did you get back here? I didn’t realize you could return.”

“There are lots of things you don’t understand,” Sam said. “But don’t worry. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

Then they wandered into the forest, sat on the log by the pond where the catfish and sunnies hid from the great blue heron, and told each other about the last few days.

“You mad I broke the promise?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Sam said. “It was time. We were holding each other back.”

In that moment, Charlie realized what he had truly lost in those thirteen years. They had never shared an adult conversation. Sam had not grown up, and their relationship had been frozen in time.

Charlie wished he could wrap his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “That was you out there on the water the other morning, wasn’t it?” he asked. “You know, with the spray and the wind?”

“Sure took you long enough to notice!”

“What can I say? Negligence in the first degree. Guilty as charged.”

“Negligence, noun,” Sam said, starting to smile. “The sexy nightgown a girl forgets she’s wearing when she goes to work in the morning.” He laughed and slapped his knee, and Charlie roared. He studied the translucent outlines of his brother who had grown so much and yet was still the same.

“I guess I have only one regret,” Charlie said. “I’m sorry I held on to you for so long.” He wiped tears from his face.

“It’s okay,” Sam said. “I held on just as much as you.”

There was a long silence, then Charlie asked, “You think we’ll ever play catch again?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “We’ll be back together in the