Sequel: Summer Shadows

Winter Wakes

Twenty Six.

Aside from the appearance of snow, winter really had no charms in my opinion. Even the white powder was pushing it, to be honest. After awakening in the woods behind my house on an icy blanket of the stuff, it seeping through my clothes; there had been a subconscious but growing dislike of it. I hadn’t been out in it longer than need be since then, hastily crossing the campus between classes if even the thinnest layer of it covered the ground. I stared at the entrance to the Roger Williams Park Zoo from my driver’s seat, where the weekend’s brief snow could be seen clearly sitting atop the black letters. I vaguely abhorred Simon’s choice of place for our upcoming discussion.

“Why here?” I asked dully. The snow gleamed brightly, almost blindingly in the sun’s rays.

“First place that came to mind, really. Now let’s go.”

“But it’s so cold,” I whined. Simon merely glared unapologetically-- and a little impatiently-- from the seat beside me. My fingers were cemented to the steering wheel; the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to actually be there. The cold seemed like a viable excuse and a decent distraction for other thoughts that seemed to try to push their way forward, but it didn’t serve to protect me in any way from the hollow ache that had started to pulse to life once again in my chest. It had been twelve years since I had even come near the zoo, never seeing the place again wouldn’t have served as a long enough time to avoid it.

“Back to square one again, eh?” The ghost beside me arched an eyebrow, icy irises gleaming dangerously as he cracked his knuckles. I sucked in on my left cheek, teeth clamping down on it with a significant amount of pain and a slight taste of iron; that certainly hadn’t been the reaction I wanted or needed to get. Sometimes it seemed compassion was a thing Simon Dreyton had never known existed, or had just been robbed of at some point in his jerk-tastic life. Clearly taking a hint wasn’t something that processed for him either.

“Ridiculous,” I hissed angrily, throwing my car door open before climbing out and slamming it shut shortly thereafter. “Why do you have to morph back into Captain Jackass right now, huh? Can’t you just try to understand me for a fucking change? Oh no, wait, you’re too self-centered to ever do that, aren’t you?”

Simon was suddenly in front of me as I hastily turned towards the zoo’s entrance. “What is wrong with you?”

I stumbled over my own feet as I brushed past him, my breath coming out in short and visible puffs. I didn’t have to look back to know he was behind me; when Simon wanted answers he normally didn’t stop until he got them. At least he had enough common sense not to hassle me about it in front of the middle-aged man I bought my ticket from. On the other side the pathway looked wet, recently scraped of the snow that had been sitting on it to prevent any possible injuries—and therefore lawsuits—against the zoo due to hazardous walking conditions.

A few people dallied along the paths, glancing in the cages of some of the animals and snapping a few pictures here or there. Aside from that, the zoo was empty; the farther along the paths I went, the less likely it seemed I would find anyone to run in to. I tried to focus on what I would say to Simon in response, but flashes of my very last trip to the zoo seemed to be come more unstoppable.

The cold-blooded animals had been moved to their indoor quarters for the miserable winter, and as my feet slowed I found myself stopping in front of what usually harbored ostriches and emus during the warmer months. It was empty; this entire part of the zoo was deserted. I still didn’t look back; he was there. I just felt it.

“I hate emus,” I stated. “I really fucking hate emus. The second to the last time I was here, my mom gave me a peanut to feed the elephant. Now, the elephants I adored. I wanted to join the circus, and ride them during the shows, you know, like Ringling Brothers or something? I was six. So my mom gave me a peanut, right? Well, we were here with one of her friends and their kid, who was twelve or something. He ran off on his own, but I was scared to go to the elephant cage alone. My mom and his mom were talking. I waited patiently beside them until they finished so that she could take me over to see the elephants; we were right here. I didn’t notice that one of the emus had walked up to the fence and had started leaning over it. One second I was listening to my mother, the next I was screaming because a stupid emu decided it wanted the damn peanut, and had not only tried to eat my fingers with it but given my skull a good peck or two in the process. Needless to say, I was probably more scared than hurt, but that giant bird wasn’t gentle either. And then I was kinda pissed I didn’t get to feed the elephant, that I do remember, for sure.”

I sighed; the hole in my chest was growing, pulsing. “So a few days after I turned seven my mom brought me back again. For some reason I had it in my head that my dad had promised to buy me a real elephant for my birthday, when he’d really just meant the elephant game that shot cloth butterflies out of it’s trunk that you had to catch. You remember that game, don’t you, Simon?”

“Maggie…?” He tried to interject; I ignored it.

“Anyways, she brought me back to see the elephants. We spent a good bit of the day just walking around, it was so cold, my cheeks and nose were red but I didn’t want to go. I just wanted to feed the elephants, and she let me. Even after it started to snow, she let me stay a little while longer. Finally she decided it was time to go when it didn’t show any signs of letting up. She—she didn’t realize the snow had already begun to stick on the roads. ” My throat seemed to tighten. “They found our car three miles up the road, in a tree. I was pulled from the wreck with a concussion and barely a scratch on me. She was declared dead on impact.”

It hurt; it ached; it throbbed. My chest felt as though it was going to cave in on itself, heart, lungs, ribcage, all of it. A vital part of my life, part of my being had been ripped out on the day of her death, never really healed, never really even changed; it was just hidden. Even then, I couldn’t bring myself to cry though. Not once in twelve years had a tear fallen from my eyes for my mother. I just wallowed in a biting, bitter misery that had taken up residence in my heart from that day forward.

“This was the last place I saw her alive.” The words came out as a strangled croak.

There was a loud silence then, only the sound of the wind whipping through the trees and around me could be heard. Slowly, my feet propelled me forward, the black leather of my gloves brushed along the fence before my fingers locked around them. My head dropped forward slightly and I could feel the freezing metal through the layer of bangs that separated it from my forehead.

A flood of faded memories rolled through my mind; my mom’s face was the most frequent and prominent image. Her loving smile, the deep brown hair I had inherited from her, always swept into luscious curls, and her dark blue eyes which closely resembled my father’s minus the hints of gray. I remembered her making breakfast on my first day of school, I remembered her comforting me in a way my father couldn’t after I’d seen a corpse for the first time, I remembered her on the last day she had been alive, here with me at the zoo; but most of all I remembered her in the casket. That had been what had cemented it in my seven year old brain that my mommy was gone, passed on like every other person I had seen come through in their coffin. She had been put in a high-neck dress to hide the fatal damage done to her chest, looking stiff and out-of-place as she lay in the cushioned box. My dad spent those next few days in the position of the client for a change, a stream of tears constantly marring his cheeks. I spent them in silence.

After the funeral dad never verbally admitted how much he missed mom, but it was apparent in many ways even at that age I could recognize. He never removed his wedding ring; the gold band remained on his finger as a permanent fixture. Her pictures were still all over the house, his favorite of him and mom together under a blooming magnolia tree held its constant place on his bedside table. He had never even shown any interest in dating over the course of the past twelve years; a wealthy man with his own business was at no loss for potential suitors, either. I never doubted for even a second he was still in love with mom, and I believed he always would be.

Simon’s hand on my shoulder offered no difference in temperature for it to be noticed, just a gentle pressure, followed by a soft squeeze.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quieter, more earnest than usual. “Come on, let’s go home, Maggie.”

I found myself slowly shaking my head back and forth against the metal fence. “No, you wanted to come. We can stay; its fine.”

“You’re upset. I’m not going to make you stay here. If I would have known that I never would have suggested this in the first place.”

Piecing together Simon Dreyton had always been complicated, more so now while trying to sift through my pain and un-reconciled feelings about my mother’s death. But the trace of caring I had once noticed a hint of under his hard-ass outer shell was even now growing more apparent. The hospital, what his mother had told me about his attendance to Brown for his brother, and even a gesture like requesting to leave the zoo for my sake revealed his true character. He was unreasonable, frustrating, and difficult, but somewhere under all of that he hid the boy that felt the pain of others, and wanted nothing more than to save them from it.

“Simon?” I stared out at the snow that blanketed the empty animal cage.

“Hm?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told this stuff to.” It was my admittance of trust, and a complete truth. I had come to the zoo of my own accord, I could have argued, could have fought it before we reached the place, but I hadn’t. Arrival had been where the hesitance had grown. I had intended to prove that I was past my mother’s death, to no avail. With Simon by my side I assumed I would have a reasonable distraction, but what he had really given me was a confidant and a chance to face my feelings rather than avoid them. He deserved no ill will, no hostility; what he deserved was far from it. What he deserved was what I had hopefully given him, someone who did trust him, even when he had no one else and maybe, just maybe, someone he could rely on.

His hand that had been on my shoulder slid down to my upper arm, the other one placing itself in the same place on my left side. Then, slowly, gently, I felt his nose press against the back of my skull. I didn’t shiver at the cool sensation I felt there; I tried not to breathe.

“Thank you,” He whispered gently into my hair.

It was with sorrowful frustration I gripped the fence tighter, squeezing my eyes closed as hard as I could. If there was ever a time I yearned to be able to touch him, it was then. No matter how horrible he had been to me, when he was at his kindest, his truest form, it all seemed like a minor and distant reality. I couldn’t place my hand on his, twist one of his white-blonde curls around my finger, or anything of the sort. He was like a mirage, but so much worse. How could it be fair that I could feel him, but I could never reciprocate his touch?

I swallowed, biting back the urge to cry over how deranged the situation was. “What are we going to do about George?”

If there was one thing that was apparent, it was that I needed to get my mind elsewhere, focused on anything but my circumstances with Simon or my long-dead mother.

Simon didn’t move behind me, I could still feel his nose pressed into my hair. When he spoke, his words came out with a different tone, a new feeling behind them. They seemed to flow comfortably, as though he was speaking to someone very dear, and very close. “I think I have an idea. But if you’re not alright with it I could come up with something else.”

The words he used may have been nothing special, but the way it was said left my heart fluttering at an awkward rate. More than anything I wanted to breach his barriers and get him to let me in, I could only hope this was the break through I had been wanting.

**

“Out again, a siren screams at half-past ten and you won’t let go
While I ignore that we’ve both felt like this before it starts to show…”

My nose stung, still ailed with pain from the cold despite the warm air coming from the vents in my car. For living in the climate my entire life I was quite a pansy when it came to colder temperatures, even if they were the norm.

“I’m just saying, this was easily their best CD,” Simon stated beside me.

“I never said it wasn’t, but you can’t deny their other CDs did have some good tracks even if they weren’t quite as amazing as Hot Fuss. You were the one who made it sound like you thought none of their other music was worth listening to,” I retorted. Upon getting back to my car after our discussion in the zoo, Simon found it necessary to sift through my dash and find some decent music. The quiet, he had said, was too annoying. I hadn’t protested in the least when he played The Killers’ first album, but it did start a debate about the later quality of the band’s music.

I also wasn’t ignorant to what he was actually doing; he was trying to distract me from thinking too much about the events that would unfold the next day involving George Max. I was concerned, but the part of the plan that was causing me worry he wouldn’t hear of changing. I knew it was bothering him, too, but for my sake he felt the need to act as though it didn’t.

“I honestly didn’t picture you as the type to listen to The Killers,” I smirked, giving him a sideways glance.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged. “Nothing really. I just imagined you as the rap or Nickelback type like your fraternity brethren who have absolutely no taste in music, that’s all.”

“Well, funeral girl, I was surprised to see no emo or goth music lurking in the depths of your dash, either. Although I was a little disappointed to find a Lady Gaga CD hiding among the Snow Patrol and Tears for Fears. Glad to see you have the original version of ‘Mad World’ instead of just the Gary Jules rendition, which was brilliant by it’s own right for the record.” He held up an album case that clearly wasn’t mine with the world’s latest pop-sensation’s face plastered on the front.

“Lady Gaga?” I crinkled my nose. “Feel free to chunk that out the window. Chassie left that in here around Christmas.”

Simon chuckled beside me. “If you insist.”

I heard the rush of the wind pouring in the car as he rolled down the window before tossing the CD towards the snowy embankment on the side of the road.

“That was one thing I really didn’t like about her, you know,” I stated over the wind as he rolled his window back up. The rush of cool air was a startling contrast to the cozy state of my car. “She for some reason found it perfectly acceptable to make me listen to her shitty music when we were in my car. I at least have enough respect not to do that to someone else. If I’m in their car I listen to their music, I don’t stick my crap in.”

“She sounds annoying. Not to mention whore-ish,” he offered. I nodded in agreement.

“And anorexic.”

“And like a ginger-creep.”

My eyebrows pulled together as I looked over at him, trying to stifle a laugh. “Ginger-creep?”

“I don’t give a damn what you say, gingers are creepy.” He nodded. “Like George for example. George is a ginger, and also a creepy fucking asshole. And Chassie, she’s a ginger, and a creepy anorexic slut.”

“You’re so kind,” I muttered sarcastically.

“I prefer the term honest.”

“Of course you do.”

Our banter ended suddenly, as up ahead flashing blue lights and a small line of cars stopped in our lane drew our attention. I slowed my car, coming to a halt behind the beat-up sedan in front of me. Traffic on this road was a rare thing, as were police cars holding it to a dead stop on both sides.

“This is… weird.” My fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. Beside me, Simon shift in his seat. An odd, dull sound filtered through the windows of my car from the outside, with a few short glances around I found the source of the peculiar noise; a helicopter was flying overhead.

“Well, be back soon.”

My attention was snapped away from the flying object overhead and given fully to the ghost that was shifting himself through the door. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Don’t you wanna know what’s going on? I know I do.” He smiled briefly. “That’s one advantage to being dead, I can find out without them noticing I’m there.”

And with that he shift through the door of my car and straightened himself out on the other side. I watched him walk towards the blue lights momentarily before picking up my phone and hitting one on my speed dial. It rang twice.

“Hello?” My father’s voice filtered through the phone.

“Hey, dad. Where are you?”

“Just walked in the door, sweetheart. Why?”

“Could you see if there’s anything in the news about a traffic jam or anything?” I requested, looking out to see if Simon was on his way back yet, although I knew it would take a little longer than that considering he’d just left.

There was a brief pause on the other end. “You didn’t get in a wreck, did you, Maggie?”

“No, dad, no! Jeez! I’m stuck in stand still traffic and I can see blue lights up ahead. There’s a helicopter flying around too, so I was wondering if one of the news stations had picked up on what was going on, that’s all,” I sighed in exasperation. I was a careful driver, so his worrying came of as slightly annoying.

“Okay, okay. I was just checking. Give me a minute.”

I could hear background noises as the TV was turned on, idly listening, more intently watching for Simon’s return.

“Well, you were right. I just found it.” My dad finally replied. “It looks like they’re trying to get a car up the embankment and out of the woods.”

I flinched at his words; it reminded me too much of my mother’s death.

“Oh, okay. Thanks dad, that’s all I needed to know.”

“Sure. So are you on your way home or what?” He asked over the background noise of the TV.

“As soon as I get out of this traffic, yeah. But hey, I’m going to let you go. I think I’ll do a little bit of my homework or something while I wait.” Even I knew how lame that had sounded.

“You sure? I could stay on the phone with you if you wanted.”

“No, dad, it’s fine. Thanks though. I’ll see you when I get home, okay? I love you,” I rambled into the phone.

“I love you too. See you later,” He replied.

I shut my phone, closing my eyes as I leaned back against my headrest. I just wanted to go home to my bed and crash. Today had been emotionally and mentally exhausting, and I just wanted a break. Just one night of peace to calm my rattled nerves. Minutes slipped by as I waited, the frenzied state of my mind slowing to a soft whir.

“Maggie? Are you awake? Traffic’s about to start moving.”

I slowly opened my eyes, turning my head to find Simon back in the passenger’s seat. At first I had been relieved, happy even to hear his voice. But the look on his face froze any pleasant feelings I had. His eyes were shining with uncertainty, maybe a slight hint of fear or panic he tried not to let show. His lips were pressed into a hard line; far from the relaxed comfortable boy that had been sitting beside me before the traffic jam.

“Simon?” I waited for an acknowledgement, but he was focused intently before us. The only thing I received was a short nod. I looked up to find the sedan in front of me moving forward. I kicked my car back into drive and followed them carefully.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” I pleaded quietly; the blue lights grew brighter as we moved closer. “Was the wreck that bad? Did someone die?”

“There was no one in the car when they found it, Maggie. Dried bloodstains were all over the driver’s seat, but there was no one there. They think it had been there a few days; there were no tracks in the snow leading down to where it was, and the car itself was covered,” His voice was hard and cold. “We need to be careful from now on.”

His last words felt like a punch in the gut, leaving me in a dazed, confused state. I didn’t understand at all.

The tow truck came into view, a battered black car hoisted onto it. At a glance it was just a car, but as I got a good look at it, my breath caught in my throat. I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from it and focus back on the road. My heartbeat kicked into double-time as I stared fixedly at the familiar car that was smashed and crumpled. The last time I had seen it, its loud roaring engine had been the thing of nightmares, leaving me in a terror-filled state. But now, clearly totaled and sitting immobile on the back of the truck it was a newer, deeper kind of fear.

“…they wouldn’t just take out the rat in this case, considering you are the rat, they’d take out him as well…”

Simon’s words, Darren’s Jaguar, were all it took to send me spinning into a new spiral of terror. I heaved a large breath, slowly tearing my eyes away from the car to focus on the road before me. It didn’t feel like my life anymore; everything was far too foreign, far too dangerous.

“I don’t think they’re going to find him, Maggie,” Simon’s words were ones my mind knew were true, but too afraid to face.

I nodded my head, noticing for the first time that day the powder blue sky was clear of any clouds. “And if they do, it won’t be alive.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue,
I thought I heard you talking softly
I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio
But still I can’t escape the ghost of you…

-Red

Internet is down at my house. I miss you guys. Managed to get this up at my friend's.

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