candy apple toward the bustling carnival area, and exclaimed, “Can we go on the Ferris wheel, Gwen?”
I could tell that Gwen saw it as an excuse to get out while she was ahead, or at least not losing. “Of course, Tommy.”
Tommy flashed a satisfied look, took a big bite of his candy apple, and pointed at me. “Can the guy with the stick come?”
Gwen looked up at me, then at her younger brother.
She looked conflicted.
So I spoke for her, “I’d love to, Tommy.”
Chapter 29
The Saturday prior to Labor Day, two years to the day, was a day permanently scarred into the memory bank of Noah Warner.
It was the night part of him died. The biggest part. He had made remarkable progress over the past year, to the point where he was able to tell the story of that night to a local reporter. She promised him that she wouldn’t release it until he was ready. He was close, but not there yet.
Noah left the fair in his Jeep-a Warner family hand-me-down that every member has taken ownership of at one time or another over the last twenty years. It was a lot different from the flashy convertible Mustang he drove up until the accident. He was glad to see JP, and hoped to spend time with him while he was in town. But this was not a day that Noah could be happy.
He soon arrived at his destination-The Rockfield Cemetery. He parked the Jeep and swallowed hard. Indescribable feelings surfaced. He grabbed the single red rose off the passenger side seat and slipped his denim jacket on over his black T-shirt. As the sun sunk behind the trees, the crisp feel of fall was in the air. The same as it was two years ago.
He walked the path to Lisa’s resting spot. He wore out the grass the first year. The second year had mostly been special occasions and anniversaries. Lisa would understand. She was the only person ever to truly understand him.
He stood before her headstone and read it again, still trying to connect it to reality.
He’d met Lisa the first day of seventh grade. The Spargos had moved to Rockfield from Boston. Lisa was the sassy, big city schoolgirl who seemed light years older than the rest of the students. Noah was the small town rebel who would go to any length to impress her. The connection was instant.
It seemed like just yesterday they were roaming the halls of Rockfield High. Lisa in her tight jeans, her curls bouncing with each confident strut-Noah in his denim jacket, the one he wore if it were ninety degrees or fifty below zero. Rebellious youth who looked like they popped out of a James Dean flick, riding around in Noah’s Mustang as if they owned the world.
It wasn’t always fun and games, but they loved each other so hard it hurt, and that was all that mattered. Their toughest stretch was the years after graduation. Lisa went off to college in Boston, while Noah didn’t have much interest in school, and remained in Rockfield. When he wasn’t getting into trouble, he worked as a bartender at Main Street Tavern. Her parents never approved of Noah, and encouraged her to cut her ties with him. But it would take more than distance and disapproving parents to keep them apart. All leading up to the moment that Noah asked her to marry him, two years ago to the day.
Day turned to dusk, and then to night. Noah continued to sit on the wet grass in front of Lisa’s marble headstone and talk to her. He wanted to hold her in his arms again so bad that he would make any deal with the devil just for a few precious seconds.
He gave updates on her parents and siblings-the ones who blamed him for her death, but he still loved them, for no other reason than Lisa loved them.
He tried to keep the topics to happy memories and the positive strides in his life. He told her about JP returning safely. Then he reminisced about the time he tried to use his famous brother to impress her when they first met. Lisa wasn’t much into the news, and had no idea who JP was, but she became a fan when she met him during one of his rare visits. Lisa knew that Noah looked up to JP, and that was good enough for her.
He held the most important surprise for last-his return to school. He didn’t want to tell her during earlier visits, for fear he would get her hopes up if he wasn’t able to stick it out. He could almost feel her pride when he told her.
The part she’d be most impressed with was that he was going back because he wanted to-not for her. It would take him years, but without her, it seemed like he had too much time on his hands anyway.
Noah eventually drained all of his emotions. He again apologized for his recent absence, vowing to make a quicker return next time. He could almost hear her playfully say, as she often had, “You better, Warner, if you know what’s good for you!” Accompanied by that infectious smile that made him melt.
Noah’s pilgrimage wasn’t over. It was important for him to go to “the spot.” He put the top up on the Jeep and was on his way-to make a return trip to hell.
Noah took Zycko because he needed to follow the same path they took on that night. Last year it was a route to the end-a dead end-as he’d planned to join her. This year he just wanted to pay tribute to his eternal soul mate and try to make some sense of the whole thing.
Zycko Hill was dark and menacing, just as it had been that night. Noah replayed it, second by second, as if he were viewing each moment in slow motion. He passed the entrance to the nature preserve, known as The Natty. It was a protected area beside the Samerauk River, best known for being the hangout for Rockfield’s youth. It was also the place where he’d asked Lisa to marry him.
He twisted the Jeep around another curve, passing the blinding bright lights of a pickup truck coming in the other direction. Noah remained in a hazy state, re-living the accident.
Just before they crossed the small one-lane bridge, the giddy newly engaged couple looked at each other and Lisa mouthed, “I love you.” They both smiled.
Then out of nowhere, the light rain turned into a downpour. The wipers struggled to clear the windshield. Lisa urged him to slow down.
Noah listened, but the rain intensified. Just after crossing the bridge, the car began to hydroplane. Noah slammed the brakes, but it only made it worse. No matter what he did he couldn’t stop the car from sliding. Noah cursed and Lisa screamed.
With a massive jolt, the Mustang slammed into a large oak tree. The passenger-side door took the worst of the collision, and of more importance to Noah-Lisa. She couldn’t get out, as the door was jammed against the tree, branches shooting through the shattered window.
Noah maneuvered her out through the driver’s side door and examined her from head to toe. She was shaken, but not a scratch on her pretty face. It was a miracle.
Lisa encouraged Noah to call the police and report the accident. He briefly argued with her, wanting to sober up a little from their celebratory champagne before getting the police involved. Lisa assured him that the conditions, and not alcohol, caused the crash. Noah gave in and made the call.
They stood in the rain, waiting for the authorities to arrive. Noah complained about the twisted metal of what used to be his car, while Lisa kept reminding him they were lucky to be alive, and still had a wedding to plan.
As they waited, Lisa mentioned that she felt cold. Noah went to bring her his denim coat, but before he could get to her, she collapsed.
He called 911, this time in a panic. It seemed like days passed before he could hear the ambulance siren echoing off the river. They rushed Lisa to the hospital.
Noah thought it was some sort of cruel joke when the doctor told him that Lisa was dead. “She’s fine! Not
