Moment of Truth - Kasie West Page 0,58

going to do and crawl in bed. But it was like a sickness. I couldn’t help myself. After brushing my teeth and changing my button-down blouse for a comfortable T-shirt, I pulled up the one waiting message on my phone. It was from Heath Hall.

You want a car, Moore? Go get your car.

What? Had Jackson taken over Heath Hall’s account? I read the two sentences again. Go get my car? I stood slowly, slipped on a pair of flip-flops, and went outside. Nobody was there. I started to walk back inside when what Jackson had said out in the parking lot came back to me. Your brother owns your car.

My brother’s truck sat like it always did on its raised platform. On the hood I could barely make out a dark object. I slowly approached. It was a black backpack, a long white envelope jutting out of the pocket. On the front of that envelope my first and last name were written in Sharpie. I opened it up and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside.

You were nominated to be Heath Hall by a previous embodiment. The request stated that you were too set on a singular goal. You needed to expand your focus. That need was evaluated and found false. But upon further observation, a different need was discovered. You need to stop trying to make up for the past. Stop competing with the past in a game you can’t win. You need to live in the present and own your place there in the lives of those around you. You need to let go of your fear of acceptance, let people in, and demand what’s yours. You can choose to accept this challenge by completing an act you feel best symbolizes overcoming your fear. You can do it alone or have the group to support you by emailing your act to [email protected]. When the mask has served its purpose or if you choose not to accept this challenge, please return, by way of enclosed lockbox key to the address inside.

I opened the backpack to find the Heath Hall mask.

A need. I now had a need and got to know the secret.

No wonder everyone thought Heath Hall was someone different. He was. He was many different people. One jumped into the pool, another showed his art, another bungee jumped. And tonight, Jackson couldn’t tell me who was on that stage. It wasn’t his secret to tell. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was who was behind the private messages. That was Jackson. I looked at the note again. Was this him too? Did the goof-off Jackson organize this device to help people work through their fears? Like Dumbo’s black feather, he had said to me once. I laughed, but then I stopped as I took in my brother’s truck.

I knew what Jackson wanted me to do. He wanted me to drive it. To go get the keys from inside that little glass box and drive this truck off its platform. It would definitely be symbolic. Me facing my brother. Now I knew why that guy’s hands were shaking in the back corridor of the museum. These weren’t average fears being targeted. This was the worst fear I could possibly imagine. In so many ways. No wonder the people who had been Heath Hall before kept this secret. They understood how serious this was.

I zipped up the backpack, the Heath Hall mask still inside, and went back in the house. I just wanted to go to my room and pretend this hadn’t happened. It killed me to disappoint Jackson.

This was unfair. Other people wouldn’t care what Jackson thought of them if they did or didn’t do it. Did other people even know Jackson was involved? I was almost positive they didn’t. I set the backpack on the kitchen counter and stared at my brother’s keys on the wall. The truck probably wouldn’t even start. It had been a month since my dad had charged the battery. All I had to do was climb in, turn the key, and when it didn’t start, climb out. That was facing a fear.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I opened the glass box and grabbed the keys off the hook. This was the first time I’d ever held them. When they didn’t burn a hole through my palm, I carried them outside along with the backpack and my purse and I stared at the truck some more. That platform was