The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(18)



Dino frowns. “I was thinking more like the cops or to talk to my sister, but Walmart’s fine.”

The upside about Walmart in the middle of the night is that everyone kind of looks dead, so I blend in. We stroll up and down each and every aisle and manage to go ten whole minutes without arguing or freaking out, which is nice.

“Hey,” Dino says. “Did you know they have a water bottle with a filter built in?”

I turn around and he’s standing in the middle of the aisle pointing at the bottle, wearing a shit-eating grin. “No way!” I say, and we both crack up.

“Remember the first time you saw that thing?” Dino says.

“It was cool!”

“It’s a water bottle.”

“With a filter built in!”

Dino’s smile grows. “No? For real? Tell me more!”

For one second, all is forgotten. All is forgiven. We’re a couple of friends going on about something that no one else in the world would understand. I might have been a little over-enthusiastic the first time I saw the bottle, and every time we went to Walmart after that, Dino made certain to point it out to me. It’s stupid, right? But that, and a million other stupid things, are the threads of a friendship. They’re the threads of my friendship with Dino.

And then he’s gotta ruin it by talking.

“We should go back to your house.”

The smile and laughter and the good feelings vanish. “Why?”

“To tell your mom you’re still alive.”

“So now I’m alive? Make up your mind.”

“You’re something,” he says. “Don’t you think your parents deserve to know?”

“Are you serious?” Is he serious? I search his eyes, I check the size of his nostrils and the angle of his head for some sign that he’s messing with me, but he’s not.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks to the end of the magic water bottle aisle and turns down the next, leaving me to chase him, which I make a mental note of to remember the next time he says he’s the one always doing the chasing.

“Dino?”

“Tell me this is real.” Dino looks at the items on the shelves and the ceiling and his hands held out in front of him. And at me. He looks directly at me, and there’s a moment where I’m not sure he sees me. Like I’m not a person anymore but a burden he’s carrying.

“What?” I ask. “You think maybe my death hit you so hard that it sent you into some kind of dissociative state and that you’re actually in a psychiatric hospital, drugged and drooling, instead of at Walmart with your best friend who, until a few hours ago, you believed was dead?”

“I wouldn’t have put it like that.”

I snort. “This is real. It’s happening.”

Dino’s chin dips to his chest like that’s what he feared. “You’re not-dead,” he says. “Other people aren’t dying—”

“Allegedly,” I say. “According to one paramedic.”

“Still, this is a thing that’s happening. It’s not a Christmas miracle—”

“Because it’s the middle of summer?”

“July . . .”

“What?”

“Don’t you want to tell your mom and Jo?lle that you’re alive?”

An older woman rolls around the corner in her motorized cart and glares at us like she was expecting to have the entire store to herself. I grab Dino’s hand and drag him toward the toy aisle, which is where we used to spend most of our time. I liked the action figures, and Dino couldn’t help buying LEGOs. When we’re clear of anyone who might be listening, I turn to him.

“Why do you think I went home before? Clothes?”

“Kinda.”

It takes all my strength not to smack him. “I was sitting in my room planning to stay there until Momma and Jo came home, but then I started wondering how long this is going to last.” I close my eyes and wish I could breathe so that I could suck in a lungful of air and let it out and feel the relief that comes from it, but I can’t. “You think I’m avoiding what’s happening, but the truth is that I have to keep moving or the reality of my situation will crush me. You want answers? I want them too! But I have no idea where to start, and I’m not going to give my folks hope until I know it’s real.”

Dino rakes his hand through his hair, pulling it off his face. “I understand that; I really do, but we can’t wander aimlessly and hope we stumble on the answers. Your funeral is tomorrow. Your parents are expecting to see your body in a casket. To bury you. We have to tell them or you have to go through with the funeral.”

“Maybe I will,” I say.

“Don’t be stupid.” He keeps shaking his head like he can rattle the bad thoughts of out it, but if it were possible I would’ve done it long ago.

I wander down the aisle and stop in front of the Star Wars toys. Dino’s shadow falls over me as he shuffles nearer.

“What if I’m the cause?” I say.

“Of?”

“This. Me. Of that drunk guy not dying.”

Dino cocks his head to the side. “You think, rather than you being not-dead because something’s stopped people from dying, that people have stopped dying because you’re not dead?”

Shaun David Hutchins's Books