Tomorrow? Ken thought in alarm. I have to do it by tomorrow?
But there was no response. Jack was gone. Ken sank back on his pillow and wished he could make some sense out of this. He’d always been a pretty down-to-earth guy. Sure, he enjoyed psycho-thriller movies as much as any of his friends did, but he’d never been really scared by them because he didn’t believe in that spooky stuff.
He still didn’t believe in it. So how could he explain hearing Jack’s voice? Was he just imagining these conversations? Had his brain been damaged in the accident? The doctor had said all the tests and scans were fine, but doctors could make mistakes.
Only he
So now what? He had to find the bracelet Jack told him about. Deliver it to Lucy. And tell her Jack was sorry.
Would Lucy think he’d lost his mind? Possibly. He didn’t really care though. He’d never told Jack this, but Lucy wasn’t one of his favourite people in the world. He’d always thought she was kind of shallow — one of those girls who only thinks about herself. The kind of girl who was accustomed to always getting what she wanted. Having seen her flirt with other guys at school, he’d wondered how much she really cared about Jack. But Jack liked her, so Ken had to be nice to her.
The truth of it was, he had to do this for Jack, whether he wanted to or not. He got off his bed and went to the door.
‘Mom? When you and Dad go to the Farrells’ — could you let me know? I’d like to go with you.’
As Ken had expected, the scene at the Farrell house was pretty grim. There was a black wreath on the door. Jack’s mother, her eyes red, hugged him, and Jack’s father put an arm around him. Neither of them acted like Ken was responsible for Jack’s death, and Ken was ashamed for even thinking they might.
There were other people at the house too — Jack’s friends from school and other adults who were neighbours and friends. A lot of people brought food, and the big dining room table was covered with cakes and pies. It could have been a party, except that there was no music, no laughing. And no one was having a good time.
Ken chatted quietly with a couple of friends, but all the time he was thinking about how and when he could get into Jack’s bedroom. Should he come up with an excuse? He could say he wanted to get the tennis racket he’d loaned to Jack. But that would sound kind of cruel, like he was afraid he’d never get the racket back now that Jack was dead. Maybe he could say he wanted to borrow a book, but that didn’t seem right either. Jack wasn’t much of a reader.
It might be best just to sneak into the room. There were plenty of other people there — no one would notice if he went missing for a little while. And there was a bathroom right next to Jack’s bedroom — he could say he was going there if anyone asked.
In the end, he didn’t have to invent an excuse. Jack’s father took him aside.
‘Ken, you were Jack’s best friend, and we’d like you to have something to remember him by. When you have a chance, go into his room and choose something — anything. His jacket, maybe. Or the karate trophy. Whatever you want.’
Ken nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Farrell.’
On his crutches, he hobbled down the hall to Jack’s room. Once inside, he closed the door, and went over to Jack’s desk. Just as Jack had told him, the seashell bracelet was in the top drawer. He shoved it into his pocket.
But what if Mr Farrell wanted to see the souvenir he’d chosen? He looked around the room. There was a stack of old comic books on a shelf. He and Jack had been Spider-Man fanatics when they were little kids. He took an issue off the pile, and left the room.
When he returned to the living room, he saw that some people had left and others had arrived. And among the new arrivals was Lucy. He stood back and watched her for a while.
He had to admit, for a pretty girl she looked pretty awful. Her normally pale face was even paler than usual, and there were dark shadows under her red eyes. Clearly, she’d been crying a lot and hadn’t had much sleep. So maybe he’d been wrong about her feelings for Jack. She certainly looked grief-stricken, like someone who’d lost the love of her life, and his heart ached for her.
He adjusted his crutches and limped over to her.
‘Hi, Lucy.’
She managed a small, woebegone smile. ‘Hi, Ken. How are you feeling?’
‘OK. How are you?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, you know. ’
‘Yeah. I know. Look, Lucy, I need to talk to you. It’s kind of personal.’ He glanced around. The room was getting crowded, and he didn’t want anyone else hearing what he had to say. ‘Um, do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?’
She followed him through the kitchen and out the back door. Fortunately, there was no one else in the back garden.
But how to begin? How was he going to tell this unbelievable tale?
‘I know how awful this must be for you,’ he said.
‘Tell me about it,’ Lucy said. ‘You know, Ken, this was going to be the best year of my life. Jack was the coolest guy I ever went out with. I mean, he was cute, he was vice-captain of the soccer team. all my girlfriends were jealous. I’d already bought a dress to wear for the eighth-grade dance. ’ A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘I can’t believe this happened to me.’
‘You could still go to the dance,’ he said, and immediately wanted to bite his tongue. What a lame thing to say.
She sighed. ‘With who?’
He thought she probably meant something like she wouldn’t want to go with anyone but Jack.
‘I still don’t understand how he died,’ she murmured. ‘He just fell down.’ She looked up. ‘You crashed into him, right?’
‘Well, we sort of crashed into each other,’ Ken said.
‘But you’re not dead.’
He bit his lower lip. ‘I’m really sorry, Lucy.’
‘Sorry you’re not dead?’
‘Well, no, but. ’
‘Sorry you didn’t look where you were going?’
Ken felt sick. ‘Lucy, I don’t think it was my fault. The coach, the doctor — everyone said it was an accident.’
She shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
‘Jack doesn’t blame me,’ he blurted out, needing to convince her he wasn’t in the wrong.
‘How do you know?’ she asked sharply.
This wasn’t how he’d wanted to bring it up. But he had to tell her sooner or later. ‘Because. because he told me.’
Her eye brows went up. ‘Before he died?’
‘No. After.’
She stared at him for a moment. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Neither do I,’ Ken admitted. He took a deep breath. ‘Lucy, I know this is going to sound pretty bizarre, but.
