Every Day
Page 41
I access AJ and find out that he and Nathan were good friends in elementary school, and are still friendly now. So it makes sense that when he passes by me, I say hello. And that he says hello back.
I sit with my friends at lunch. Some of the guys ask me about the game last night, and I answer vaguely, accessing the whole time.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nathan sit down at his own table, eating alone. I don’t remember him being friendless, just dull. But it looks as if he’s friendless now.
“I’m going to go talk to Nathan,” I tell my friends.
One of them groans. “Really? I’m so sick of him.”
“I hear he’s doing talk shows now,” another chimes in.
“You would think the devil would have more important things to do than take a Subaru for a joyride on a Saturday night.”
“Seriously.”
I pick up my tray before the conversation can go any further, and tell them I’ll see them later.
Nathan sees me coming over, but still seems surprised when I sit down with him.
“Do you mind?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “Not at all.”
I don’t know what I’m doing. I think of his last email—PROVE IT—and half expect those words to flash from his eyes, for there to be some challenge that I will have to meet. I am the proof. I am right in front of him. But he doesn’t know that.
“So how are you doing?” I ask, picking up a fry, trying to act like this is a normal lunchtime conversation between friends.
“Okay, I guess.” I get a sense that for all the attention people have been giving him, not many people have been asking him how he’s doing.
“So what’s new?”
He glances over my shoulder. “Your friends are looking at us.”
I turn around, and everyone from my old table suddenly looks anywhere but here.
“Whatever,” I say. “Don’t pay attention to them. To any of them.”
“I’m not. They don’t understand.”
“I understand. I mean, I understand that they don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“It must be pretty overwhelming, though, having everyone so interested. And all the blogs and stuff. And this reverend.”
I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But Nathan seems happy to talk. AJ is a good guy.
“Yeah, he really gets it. He knew people would give me grief. But he told me I had to be stronger. I mean, having people laugh is nothing compared to surviving a possession.”
Surviving a possession. I have never thought about what I do in those terms. I never thought my presence was something that anyone would have to survive.
Nathan sees me thinking. “What?” he asks.
“I’m just curious—what do you remember from that day?”
Now a wariness creeps into his expression.
“Why are you asking?”
“Curiosity, I guess. I’m not doubting you. Not at all. I just feel like, in all the things I’ve read and all the things people have said, I never really got to hear your side. It’s all been secondhand and thirdhand and probably seventh- or eighth-hand, so I figured I’d just come and ask you firsthand.”
I know I’m on dangerous ground here. I can’t make AJ too much of a confidant, because tomorrow will come and he might not remember anything that’s been said, and that might make Nathan suspicious. But at the same time, I want to know what he remembers.
Nathan wants to talk. I can see it. He knows he’s stepped off his own map. And while he won’t pull back, he also regrets it a little. I don’t think he ever meant for it to take over his life.
“It was a pretty normal day,” he tells me. “Nothing unusual. I was home with my parents. I did chores, that kind of thing. And then—I don’t know. Something must have happened. Because I made up this story about a school musical and borrowed their car for the night. I don’t remember the musical part—they told me that later. But there I was, driving around. And I had these … urges. Like I was being drawn somewhere.”
He pauses.
“Where?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. This is the weird part. There are a few hours there that are completely blank. I have this sense of not being in control of my body, but that’s it. I have flashes of a party, but I have no idea where, or who else was there. Then suddenly I’m being woken up by a policeman. And I haven’t drunk a sip. I haven’t done any drugs. They tested for that, you know.”
“What if you had a seizure?”
“Why would I borrow my parents’ car to have a seizure? No, there was something else in control. The reverend says I must have wrestled with the devil. Like Jacob. I must have known my body was being used for something evil, and I fought it. And then, when I won, the devil left me by the side of the road.”
He believes this. He genuinely believes this.
And I can’t tell him it’s not true. I can’t tell him what really happened. Because if I do, AJ will be in danger. I will be in danger.
“It didn’t have to be the devil,” I say.
Nathan becomes defensive. “I just know, okay? And I’m not the only one. There are lots of people out there who’ve experienced the same thing. I’ve chatted with a few of them. It’s scary how many things we have in common.”
“Are you afraid it will happen again?”
“No. I’m prepared this time. If the devil is anywhere near me, I’ll know what to do.”
I sit with my friends at lunch. Some of the guys ask me about the game last night, and I answer vaguely, accessing the whole time.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nathan sit down at his own table, eating alone. I don’t remember him being friendless, just dull. But it looks as if he’s friendless now.
“I’m going to go talk to Nathan,” I tell my friends.
One of them groans. “Really? I’m so sick of him.”
“I hear he’s doing talk shows now,” another chimes in.
“You would think the devil would have more important things to do than take a Subaru for a joyride on a Saturday night.”
“Seriously.”
I pick up my tray before the conversation can go any further, and tell them I’ll see them later.
Nathan sees me coming over, but still seems surprised when I sit down with him.
“Do you mind?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “Not at all.”
I don’t know what I’m doing. I think of his last email—PROVE IT—and half expect those words to flash from his eyes, for there to be some challenge that I will have to meet. I am the proof. I am right in front of him. But he doesn’t know that.
“So how are you doing?” I ask, picking up a fry, trying to act like this is a normal lunchtime conversation between friends.
“Okay, I guess.” I get a sense that for all the attention people have been giving him, not many people have been asking him how he’s doing.
“So what’s new?”
He glances over my shoulder. “Your friends are looking at us.”
I turn around, and everyone from my old table suddenly looks anywhere but here.
“Whatever,” I say. “Don’t pay attention to them. To any of them.”
“I’m not. They don’t understand.”
“I understand. I mean, I understand that they don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“It must be pretty overwhelming, though, having everyone so interested. And all the blogs and stuff. And this reverend.”
I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But Nathan seems happy to talk. AJ is a good guy.
“Yeah, he really gets it. He knew people would give me grief. But he told me I had to be stronger. I mean, having people laugh is nothing compared to surviving a possession.”
Surviving a possession. I have never thought about what I do in those terms. I never thought my presence was something that anyone would have to survive.
Nathan sees me thinking. “What?” he asks.
“I’m just curious—what do you remember from that day?”
Now a wariness creeps into his expression.
“Why are you asking?”
“Curiosity, I guess. I’m not doubting you. Not at all. I just feel like, in all the things I’ve read and all the things people have said, I never really got to hear your side. It’s all been secondhand and thirdhand and probably seventh- or eighth-hand, so I figured I’d just come and ask you firsthand.”
I know I’m on dangerous ground here. I can’t make AJ too much of a confidant, because tomorrow will come and he might not remember anything that’s been said, and that might make Nathan suspicious. But at the same time, I want to know what he remembers.
Nathan wants to talk. I can see it. He knows he’s stepped off his own map. And while he won’t pull back, he also regrets it a little. I don’t think he ever meant for it to take over his life.
“It was a pretty normal day,” he tells me. “Nothing unusual. I was home with my parents. I did chores, that kind of thing. And then—I don’t know. Something must have happened. Because I made up this story about a school musical and borrowed their car for the night. I don’t remember the musical part—they told me that later. But there I was, driving around. And I had these … urges. Like I was being drawn somewhere.”
He pauses.
“Where?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. This is the weird part. There are a few hours there that are completely blank. I have this sense of not being in control of my body, but that’s it. I have flashes of a party, but I have no idea where, or who else was there. Then suddenly I’m being woken up by a policeman. And I haven’t drunk a sip. I haven’t done any drugs. They tested for that, you know.”
“What if you had a seizure?”
“Why would I borrow my parents’ car to have a seizure? No, there was something else in control. The reverend says I must have wrestled with the devil. Like Jacob. I must have known my body was being used for something evil, and I fought it. And then, when I won, the devil left me by the side of the road.”
He believes this. He genuinely believes this.
And I can’t tell him it’s not true. I can’t tell him what really happened. Because if I do, AJ will be in danger. I will be in danger.
“It didn’t have to be the devil,” I say.
Nathan becomes defensive. “I just know, okay? And I’m not the only one. There are lots of people out there who’ve experienced the same thing. I’ve chatted with a few of them. It’s scary how many things we have in common.”
“Are you afraid it will happen again?”
“No. I’m prepared this time. If the devil is anywhere near me, I’ll know what to do.”
