I wait some more, and then turn off the recorder. Stepping off the bridge to the fire, I use the light there to find the folder and play back what I just asked. Sawyer’s also walked off the bridge, but he’s near the edge where I fell and that gives me shivers. It’s as if the boy has no sense of self-preservation.
On the playback, I ask my first question. No response. I ask my second question. More nothing. I ask my third and I jerk as if shocked by electricity. I back it up, listen again, and my hands shake with excitement.
Me: “Is there anything you think I should know?”
A whispered voice: “He’s hurting.”
SAWYER
Veronica laughs as I bust a modified move in the driver’s seat of my car. It’s late, and we’re both slaphappy. I like to dance. It’s something most guys avoid, but it doesn’t bother me to get on the dance floor and move with the music.
After her fit of giggles, Veronica returns to singing along to the song and throwing out some passenger-seat moves herself. I’d love to get on the dance floor with her. I bet the two of us could bring the house down.
I turn onto Main Street and the song ends. She relaxes in her seat and rolls her head to look at me. From the unexpected river bath, her hair is dried, but it is wild and unruly. Even in the dark of night, she’s brilliant sunshine and she has a way of thawing me out like no one else. There’s something comforting in being in her presence and it’s something I want more of.
“I’m going to download the audio from the recorder tomorrow and see if I can slow the recording down. Sometimes ghosts will communicate on a different frequency than us. Maybe that will help us hear something we didn’t before.”
I think she’s going to be sadly disappointed, but I’m game to help. Honestly, I just like being around her. “Still trying to convince me ghosts are talking to you through a recorder?”
“Not convince, Sutherland. Prove. And you heard the ghost.”
“I heard something.” The recording was faint and it was nonsense. He hurts. What does that mean?
“You’ll hear it better when I get it downloaded on the computer, and what are you going to do with yourself when I prove to you ghosts are real?”
“Probably rock in a corner and then cry myself to sleep every night.”
She laughs, and I smile along with her.
“Text me when you’re ready to go over the recording, and if you’re okay with it, I’ll come up,” I say.
“Okay. You should bring Lucy, too. I need help making more turkeys, and I also need to start making decorations for Christmas. I think I’ll do that in October.”
Veronica’s done this for years—celebrate holidays at weird times. And it’s not just that she celebrates it in private and it somehow gets leaked. She goes all out. Her clothes, decorating her locker, decorating her friends’ lockers, even handing out gifts to teachers. When she was younger, she sometimes gave invitations to people who would never come. Instead they made fun of her, making her the topic of jokes for weeks. When the teasing eventually died down, she would do something crazy again.
“Lucy will love that,” I say, and it’s the truth.
I want to ask Veronica why she does it, but don’t. Doing so could bring down the mood. Tonight has been one of the best I’ve had in months, and I’m not ready to let it go.
“Would you like to come?” Veronica asks as I turn onto our street. “To Thanksgiving? It’s a week from today. Dad makes this huge turkey and I make the sides and you should see all the desserts. You can bring Lucy and your mom if you want. Dad wouldn’t mind. In fact, he’d probably like getting to know you all since you’re living downstairs.”
She squishes her lips the side, and I’m completely drawn in. “Actually, it would be awesome if you came. Since Dad travels for his job, he gives me a lot of room and trust, but he expects me to be honest with him about what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. He’ll want to meet you.”
She peeks at me then, from under long eyelashes, and it doesn’t matter what she would have asked, the answer is, “Sure.” A pause. “Don’t worry about Mom, though. She travels in the area