Jump When Ready (18 page)

What I thought he was saying started to sink in. “Like
when someone dies?”

“But in reverse,” Curtis said. “A Witness isn’t required,
but most people prefer some moral support. It’s kind of a big step, you know?”

Really, I didn’t know at all. I’d just assumed that
whatever would happen next would take place in some distant future. I’d also
assumed it would happen out of the blue, kind of like drowning or falling off a
cliff or getting hit by a bus. I mean, I hadn’t spent my life thinking about
dying and so far I hadn’t really spent all that much time in my afterlife
thinking about what followed. Either way, I just figured it was something we
couldn’t control.

“You look kind of stunned.”

“I guess I am,” I said.

“By the way, it’s sort of an honor. The whole being a
Witness thing. Most people choose a really strong soul.”

“So, you haven’t met any strong souls lately?”

Curtis smiled. “Yeah, I have. One of the strongest I’ve
ever known.”

I looked at Curtis, not sure what to say.

“Right, I mean you. You pulled us all together. You made
something happen that everyone thought was totally impossible. By the way,
Martha told me she saw that in you from the start. She said you were a really
strong soul.”

Me, a strong soul. Until that moment, I’d thought of
myself as more a lost soul.

Curtis looked up as some birds took off into the sky,
watching them go. “You really have no idea how far you’ve come in such a short
period of time. I spent the first five years complaining about the unfairness
of it all. What I should have had, what should have happened, all that. It
never even occurred to me to think about someone else. You never did that.”

I watched the birds become specks, then disappear. I
wasn’t sure what to say.

Curtis poked my shoulder. “Just don’t let that go to your
head or anything. You might start acting like me.”

Curtis laughed and I did too.

“Listen, I have one more thing to show you. This time,
it’s actually something positive. See that apartment building? Look to the
third floor window.” Curtis pointed across the street.

I saw a guy standing in one of the windows, talking on
the phone. I guessed him to be maybe in his twenties. He wore jeans and a
T-shirt and his hair was kind of long. Behind him, a kitchen glowed with light
while things cooked on the stove.

“What do you see?”

“A guy cooking and talking on the phone.”

“Exactly, that’s the guy,” Curtis said. “What do you get
from him? Any first impressions?”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t know why, but he seems
like a nice person.”

“He is,” Curtis said. “I’ve checked him out completely.
His name is Josh. He graduated from college a few years ago and right now he’s
an art teacher for an elementary school. He wants to publish graphic novels
someday, but for now he likes being a teacher. The thing is, he’s just the
opposite of my step-father in my last life, who I was stuck with after my
mother died in a car accident. There he was with no wife and this kid he
basically couldn’t stand and wanted nothing to do with. He was pissed off all
the time.”

I took a moment to process what Curtis had just told me.
“Sorry. It sounds like your last life was pretty messed up.”

“Not the best, definitely. Then again, you drowned in a
river.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t so great.”

“Sorry, dude. That must have sucked bad.” Curtis cracked
a smile.

“It really did.” I started laughing. It felt so strange
to laugh about it. “I plan to avoid doing that again. Okay, so what’s up with
the dude across the street?”

“Right, here’s where it gets interesting.” Curtis
gestured down at the sidewalk, to where a young woman had just stepped off a
bus while talking on her cell phone. “See her?”

“Sure.”

“Who do you think she’s talking to?”

I considered for just a second. “The guy in the
apartment?”

Curtis nodded. “Exactly. By the way, there’s a reason why
she prefers riding the bus to driving. She doesn’t remember it, of course, but
she died in a car accident in her last life.”

It took a moment, then I realized what Curtis was telling
me. “Is she…?”

“Well, she was,” Curtis said. “Once upon a time, in an
entirely different life, that woman gave birth to a boy that she and her
husband decided to name Curtis. Those were the happiest days of her life. She
had no way of knowing that within a few years her husband would get sick and
die. Or that later she’d get married again, this time to a pathetic jerk. And,
of course, she couldn’t know that she would later die in a car accident or that
her seriously depressed son would jump off the roof of his apartment building.”

My eyes went back to the man in the window. He spotted
the woman and waved happily. “Wait. Is that…?”

“You really are sharp today.” Curtis smiled. “My father
and mother arranged to meet again in this life. They got married last year.
They’re really happy together. So happy, in fact, that they’ve decided to start
a family. Which means…” Curtis let his words trail off and waited for me to
finish his sentence.

“Which means it’s time to say goodbye?” It surprised me
to find myself choking up.

“Yep, I guess it’s time for me to jump back into things.
Kind of literally, in this case.” Curtis punched me lightly on the arm. “Hey,
don’t look so sad. This is a happy occasion. And life’s a funny thing—we’ll
probably cross paths again at some point.”

“I hope so,” I said.

“Can you picture me wearing diapers?” Curtis grinned and
I laughed.

“I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, can’t exactly wrap my brain around that either.”
Curtis stood and walked out along the branch.

I went to follow, but Curtis turned and held up his hand
to stop me. Then he pointed down, to where the woman was about to pass beneath
our tree. “Thanks for being my Witness. Tell everyone goodbye for me, okay?”

“I will.”

“Ask me if I’m ready,” Curtis said.

“Are you ready?”

He thought for one last second, then nodded.
“Definitely.”

Curtis turned and walked to the end of the branch. He
paused for just a moment, then jumped into the air and vanished.

I remained in the tree after the woman entered the
apartment building. Not for very long, but just long enough to see her appear
in the kitchen window next to her husband, who wrapped her in his arms.

You’d think after experiencing something like that, I would
have been thinking about life, birth, death, all that. Not really. What came to
mind was seeing if Jamie felt like hitting that skate park. After all, I was
still basically just a kid.

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A Voice from the
Other Side

Nights like these were one of the things Ian loved most
about being in college, walking through the streets of Seattle with his friends
and knowing that the future remained wide open. Limitless possibilities awaited
while the present offered the comfort of what had now become familiar. Sure,
there was the looming pressure of next week’s remaining finals but tonight had
been about blowing off some steam, hitting a party and reveling in the fact
that the winter break was just days away. The only downside was knowing Lisa
would be flying off to Denver soon.

As if she read his thoughts, Lisa hooked her arm through
Ian’s and drew him closer. “Okay, it’s cold,” she said.

Ian chuckled. “Isn’t it like twenty degrees colder in
Colorado?”

Lisa shuddered and leaned into him. “Don’t remind me.”

Still, she was right. For Seattle, it was cold. Snow
flurries drifted through the air when normally it would have been drizzling
rain. Ian couldn’t help feel excited at the prospect of some snow accumulating
on the ground. What could be better than that just as the holidays approached?

“Hey, love birds. Put it on hold,” Brent said, catching
up to them. “You’re going to have to wait. You promised beer.”

Peter, a little more heavy and slow, huffed up alongside
them. “You spoke of a magical twelve pack. I definitely heard it.”

“I think you’ve already passed the state of
magical
,”
Brent said.

“I deserve magical,” Peter said. “I aced my freaking
engineering exam. I plan to get even more magical!”

Ian laughed but felt like kicking himself for mentioning
the twelver he’d managed to score. If he hadn’t divulged that information,
Brent and Peter probably would have wandered off looking for another party—one
where the keg hadn’t been tapped dry. So much for some time alone with Lisa.
Still, even that couldn’t ruin his good mood as they continued to walk past the
bars, closed shops and bookstores of the U District. Of the four of them, he
was the only one actually from Seattle but he enjoyed living there just as
much. Maybe more. Ian never quite understood why everyone else he knew seemed
to have only disdain for their home town. He’d never once wanted to leave
Seattle, at least not for good. The fact was, he’d always felt incredibly lucky
to live in a city so culturally diverse and creative, with a family he felt
deeply connected to. Sure it wasn’t typical but it wasn’t like Ian had any
issues with being atypical, not if that resulted from being happy. He never
apologized for that one.

What made this year even better was that now, in his
third year, he’d finally managed to convince his parents he’d be okay living in
an apartment rather than a dorm. They’d originally argued that he’d be safer on
campus and, for the first year, Ian had taken comfort in being insulated within
campus boundaries. In fact, he hadn’t really been particularly worried about it
for the first half of the second year either. But it was kind of lame to still
be squeezed into a dorm by year three and thankfully his parents had relented.
After all, he’d remained living in the same city. They’d agreed that it was
probably time for a little more freedom.

The apartment itself was fairly shabby, a small
two-bedroom within an old, brick slab of a building, All the same, for Ian and
Brent it was the first significant step into the adult world and they were
proud of living there. They had made it their own by tacking up reproductions
of vintage Arcade Fire and Muse posters alongside posters Brent nabbed each
year after the UW Foreign Film Festival. Peter hung out there as often as
possible on weekends since he didn’t like his roommates all that much. He was a
good guy but Ian was glad that, during the week, Peter usually hunkered down at
his own place to study. It was already difficult finding some time alone with
Lisa. Two roommates would have made that pretty much impossible.

As soon as they were inside, the four of them peeled off
coats and tossed them onto chairs in the kitchen while Brent grabbed beers from
the fridge. He passed off cans to the others and turned to Ian. “So, Sharon was
working the register at Safeway today?”

“Yep,” Ian said, high-fiving Brent. A tradition based on
the only Safeway clerk nearby that consistently failed to ask for ID.

“Sweet,” Brent said, “although it does beg the question
why you’d opt for Bud Light. Just saying.”

Ian cracked his beer. “You spot Sharon, you make your
move. You know the drill. Bud Light was the closest. If you don’t want that,
just—”

Brent stepped back, holding his beer near his chest.
“Nope, I’m good.”

“Yeah, thought so,” Ian said, walking toward the living
room where Lisa had already chosen music and settled onto their faded plaid
sofa. Brent claimed the battered chaise-lounger they’d discovered at a yard
sale, leaving the weather-beaten Adirondack for Peter (another yard sale
score). Ian sank into his spot next to Lisa.

Brent sighed and stared off across the room. “It seems
weird not to be going home next week.”

“You’re staying here?” Peter said. “What’s up with that?”

“Just the way it worked out. My parents invited me
skiing, which sounded great. Except, I kind of hate skiing. Besides, I haven’t
gotten all of my shifts covered. What about you?”

“Flying out Christmas Eve,” Peter said. “My parents said
it was cheaper. Seriously? Your boss would fire you for not covering your
shifts?”

“Yep. Not that I couldn’t find another job waiting tables
but I don’t really feel like it. Anyway, whatever. At least there’s an upside.
I don’t have to go back to LA. That town is seriously depressing.”

Lisa laughed. “Come on, you’re a film major. Isn’t it
kind of the objective to live in LA?”

Brent sucked back some beer, burped, then said, “No, the
objective is roaming the world, making cool movies and having people in LA
agree to distribute them.”

“By cool movies, do you mean documentaries?”

“Exactly, films that will expand minds and broaden our
culture.”

“No one watches documentaries,” Lisa said. “So, how much
broadening is going to happen?”

Peter’s Adirondack creaked as he shifted toward Lisa. “I
like documentaries. Okay, not really. But not everyone is a Doctor Who fangirl.
How freaking long has that show been running, anyway?”

“Over seventy years,” Lisa said. “And for your
information, Doctor Who has done more to break down stereotypes and broaden culture
than all the documentaries put together. Hey, Brent, maybe you should get a job
for the BBC.”

“England’s too freaking cold. I guess LA will have to
do.” Brent turned to Ian. “You, my brother, get to remain right here in this
very awesome town. With your very cool parents. What kind of karma delivered
this to you?”

It wasn’t the first time one of Ian’s friends had
expressed a little envy at Ian’s relationship with his parents. Even during his
teenage years—when almost all of his friends seemed to hate their parents—Ian
had continued to get along well with his. The fact was, he just had cool
parents. At least, that’s how he saw it.

Ian’s father, Josh, was an art teacher—had been for
almost twenty years—but he earned more than his salary from the graphic novels
and comics he published and sold online. Ian’s mother, Clara, expressed herself
in a more introverted manner as a site designer and copywriter. Ironically,
while she often had meetings with clients throughout Seattle, she’d always
refused to get her driver’s license. She claimed it was both environmentally
responsible and enjoyable to ride the bus but Ian had always suspected she was
just afraid to drive. Ultimately, Ian didn’t know what made his parents remain
easy to relate to. Maybe it was because they were both a little quirky. Or
maybe it was because they both had careers they enjoyed. Probably both. Either
way, he couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t seemed happy together and
still excited to see each other at the end of the day.

“Just lucky, I guess,” Ian said. Which, after all, was
true. He couldn’t see any reason not to acknowledge that fact.

“There I was thinking you might have done something right
in a past life or something,” Brent said.

Brent might have been only half-joking. Maybe it had
something to do with growing up in California but he remained open to ideas not
exactly viewed as mainstream. His artistic nature and open-mindedness had been
a large part of why he and Ian had formed a friendship so easily.

Peter slouched back in his chair. “Okay, I guess I’m
officially batfaced. Which, by the way, helps when people start talking about
past lives having something to do with cool parents. The whole deal is random,
that’s my opinion. As in, why would I be a Packers fan when my father loves the
Steelers? Add to that, we’re from Ohio.”

“Deep,” Brent said.

“Peter, seriously, these two have a woo-woo side,” Lisa
said. “Did they not tell you?”

Peter shook his head and took a pull off his beer.
“Please inform me.”

Lisa turned to Brent. “You totally have a Ouija board in
your bedroom.”

Brent leveled her with a stare. “Sorry about this, Ian,
but it would seem that your girlfriend has been snooping in my bedroom.”

Lisa smiled but flipped him off. “I’m hoping that fantasy
self-destructs after thirty seconds. I didn’t have to go into your bedroom.
Okay, sure, I did
look
into you bedroom. At the bookshelf, where I saw
some games? Then I got curious? Look, no judgment on why you’d go off to
college with Battleship and Adventure Time Monopoly. But, okay, the Ouija board
kind of caught my eye.”

Brent shrugged. “Didn’t I see Frozen sisters plushies at
your place? I’m not going to lie. I have a sentimental side about my childhood.
Obviously, you do too. Whatever. Besides, board games are fun.”

Peter hunched forward, the old Adirondack creaking again.
He stared at Brent. “Seriously, dude, you have a Ouija board? I’ve never gone
near one of those things.”

Lisa cocked her head at Peter. “Do I hear fear in your
voice?”

Brent turned his way too. “Oh, come on. Didn’t you ever
tell ghost stories, then break out the Ouija board?”

Peter sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Nope. No way. Too scary.”

Ian laughed. “No joke? What about the Bloody Mary thing?”

“The thing with the mirror? Totally passed on that one
too.”

“Seriously?” Ian said. “Our parents used to scare
themselves with that one. It’s like a hundred years old or something.”

“We must break out the Ouija board and conjure spirits!”
Lisa said.

Ian shook his head. “I am not opening any portals in my
living room.”

“Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” Brent said, then
added, “Crap, I forgot the mirror.”

Lisa had already scooted off down the hall.

“You better not be in my bedroom!” Brent called after
her.

A moment later, Lisa dashed back into the room, clutching
the game box to her chest. She took her seat and placed it on the wicker trunk
that served as a coffee table. “Your room smells funny,” she said.

“As in ha-ha funny? Or did you lack the needed verbal
precision to tell me that my room had an unfamiliar, perhaps intriguing or even
enticing scent?”

“Oh, no. I meant precisely this.” Lisa grinned and
flipped Brent off again. “Anyway, shall we scare the crap out of Peter now by
calling upon our collective occult powers? By the way, note my verbal precision
there. Just saying.”

“So, I was scared when I was like seven,” Peter said.

Lisa set the planchette onto the now unfolded game-board
surface. “But are you still scared?”

“Scared? No,” Peter said. “Only if we run out of beer.”

Ian shot Brent a look. “He needs alcohol to numb the
fear.”

“Totally.”

“Someone dim the lights,” Lisa said.

No one got up.

“Oh, hey, why don’t I dim the lights?” Lisa crossed the
room and flicked the switch, leaving them in semi-darkness with just the glow
cast by the streetlights outside.

Lisa took her seat again. “Okay, so here’s how it works.
At least this is how we did it when we were twelve. I’m not sure if there are
any official rules. We place our hands on the planchette, ask a question of the
spirits and wait for the answer to come from the other side.”

“Other side of what?” Peter said

“Other side of the street,” Brent said. “What do you
think?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the other side of some cards or
something.”

“Do you see any cards?” Ian said. “How drunk are you?”

Peter waggled his hand to indicate so-so. “Sober enough
to think about going home. Too drunk to actually get up and go.”

“He’s totally scared,” Lisa said.

“Lilly-livered,” Ian said.

“Okay, everyone place their hands on the thingy,” Brent
said.

“Planchette,” Lisa said.

“That’s a girly word,” Peter said.

“Agreed,” Brent said.

“Place your fat, manly fingers on the freaking
planchette
,”
Lisa said.

Ian, Brent and Peter did as told. Lisa squeezed her
fingers in between Ian’s and Peter’s.

The four of them sat looking at each other, trying not to
laugh.

“So, what’s the question?” Peter said.

Ian shrugged. “Good question.”

“Oh, I know!” Brent said. “Does Lisa visit my bedroom
when no one’s looking due to some hidden desire? Sorry, Ian, but you need to
know.”

Lisa shoved the planchette to the top of the board where
it said “No” in bold black letters.

“Um, I’m pretty sure that came from this side,” Peter
said.

“Okay, let’s try again,” Brent said. “Remember, keep your
fingers light on the girly thing.”

Snickers from Ian and Peter followed.

Lisa stared at them. “Get your minds out of the gutter.
Okay, I have a question. Will Brent become a successful filmmaker?”