You've Reached Sam(11)

An image plays in my head like a film reel. I see him sitting on top of his headstone, in his denim jacket, waiting for me for the past week. A dozen conversations play through my mind as I think of what to say to him, how to explain why I’ve kept away for so long. But two feet before I reach the main gate, I stop short.

The lamppost hanging above the gate creaks, unlit in the rain.

What am I doing here? The hill is more than four hundred acres of folded land. I look up and see a thousand grave markers lined up for miles. I don’t know how long it would take to find him or where to begin. My feet stay frozen on the wet concrete. I can’t go in there. I can’t make myself do this. Sam isn’t here. There’s nothing to see but a newly laid plot where he’s supposed to be. But I don’t want that to be the last image I have of him. I don’t want this memory. I don’t want to think of him having to spend the rest of eternity buried somewhere up on that hill.

I take a few steps away from the gate, wondering why I came here. This was a terrible mistake. Sam isn’t there. I don’t want him to be.

Before I even realize it, I’ve turned away from the gate and nearly slip as I break into another run.

The evening mist has turned into a shower as the brick walls that run along the cemetery fade behind me. I don’t even know where I’m going this time. I want to get as far away as I possibly can. The sky is pouring as I enter the woods. I keep on running until the view of houses and roads is long gone.

Rainfall has softened the ground and filled it with puddles. As I’m running, I start imagining myself emerging into an alternate world where everything’s still okay, and wishing I could leap through time so I can go back and change everything. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to will time and space and undo the fabric that is twisting and pulling me apart.

Suddenly my foot catches on something and I slam to the ground. My body stings in a million places before it goes numb, and I feel nothing at all.

I try to get up but I can’t seem to move a muscle. So, I don’t bother. I just stay there on the floor of stones and leaves as the sky continues to pour.

I miss Sam. I miss the sound of his voice. I miss knowing he would always answer me if I called. I don’t even know where I am or who I can talk to. This isn’t one of my finest moments. And tomorrow, I will regret ever letting it get to this point. But right now, I’m so desperate and alone, I pull out my phone and turn it on. The light blinds me for a few seconds. I forgot I deleted everything this morning—all of my photos, messages, and applications, so nothing’s there. I go through my contact list, trying to think of someone else to call, but there aren’t many options. When I notice Sam’s name isn’t even there, I remember I deleted it, too. I’m not sure if I even remember the number anymore. I don’t even know what I’m doing when I dial it anyway, hoping to hear him again through his voice mail one more time. Maybe I can leave him a message, let him know I’m sorry.

The ringing startles me. It’s a strange sound to hear in the emptiness of the woods. I shut my eyes and shiver from the cold. The phone rings for a long time, slowly drowning out my thoughts, and I feel as though it will go on and on forever, until suddenly the ringing stops.

Someone picks up the phone.

There is a long silence before a voice comes through the line.

“Julie…”

Raindrops patter against my ear. I become aware of the sound of my own heart beating against the earth. I turn my face up slightly toward the sky and keep listening.

“… Are you there?”

That voice. Faint and raspy like the murmur of the ocean in a seashell. I know it. I’ve listened to it a thousand times before to where it’s become as familiar as my own. That voice. But it couldn’t be.

Sam …





CHAPTER TWO

“Can you hear me…” he says. “Julie?”

The ocean fades and his voice comes through more clearly.

“Are you there?”

I blink off raindrops. I must have played one of his voice mails by mistake. But I thought I deleted them this morning.

“If you can hear me—say something. Let me know if this is you…”

I don’t remember that line from before. So this must be something else.

Maybe I hit my head and am suddenly imagining things. My vision blurs, so I close my eyes again to stop the trees from spinning. I’m not sure if his voice is coming through the phone or my own head, but I answer it anyway.

“Sam?”

Silence fills the woods. For a second, I think he’s gone. That he was never there. But then I hear a breath that isn’t mine.

“Hey…” he says with an air of relief. “I thought I lost you there…”

My eyes crack open to reveal a sliver of the world. I’m too numb from the cold to know which way is up or down or where the sky is. I reach into the back of my mind for some sense and come up empty.

“Sam?” I say again.

“Can you hear me, okay? I wasn’t sure if this would work.”

“What’s going on?”

“I wondered if you’d ever call me back,” he says, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. As if we are continuing a conversation we left off yesterday. “I missed you. I missed you infinity.”

I can’t think straight. I don’t know what’s happening.