Indigo Rock Page #4

Is it possible to grieve someone before they're gone?

• Fiction
• Horror
• Mystery
• Science fiction
• Anthology

								


At last, the orange hue of the bonfire. Familiar grounds. Safe grounds. Was any of that real? 

Most of our schoolmates have gone for the night, with the usual stragglers left over. "Dude!" Reece grabbed Jonesy by the arm. "Who were those guys? Military? FBI?" 

A few kids gawked at us, and Reece calmed his theatrics. 

"Hell if I know -- I've never seen them before! The government must be monitoring it now." Jonesy paced nervously. "I need to go back up there... I never got those Powerball numbers." 

"Are you serious?" I groaned. "That’s what you're worried about?" 

Before any of us could express our whirlwind of emotions, Cyrus' chest inflated and burst in a fit of coughs, the harshest I ever saw him have. He kneeled on the dirt below, and Reece and I went down to comfort him. "I'm..." He gasped for air. "I'm fine. Don't worry." 

I helped him to his feet. "I think it's time to go home." 

"Do you guys want me to take you?" Reece offered. A kind gesture, and one I would've accepted if we hadn't driven. 

"We're okay." Reece and I exchanged amicable nods. "Thank you, though." 

Reece craned Cyrus by the shoulder and helped him into the car. Like an instinct, I peeked in the direction of Indigo Rock, a dot of purple in the hills. I closed the door, and before riding away, Jonesy looked in the window and said, "Keep this between us, okay?" 

We all shared another look---a pact, of sorts---and I gunned the engine to life, riding out of the woods into town. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ 

They say bad things happen to bad people. The Law of Attraction. And as such, good things happen to good people. Reap what you sow, yada yada, insert religious text. Why, then, was the shittiest of all things happening to my brother? 

The better half. The good twin. 

I couldn't tell you all the colorful curse words I had for the universe, as I stood there at his bedroom door, watching him hooked up to an oxygen tank and a home health nurse checking his vitals. It was the morning after the bonfire, and Cyrus had never looked worse. 

Mom sat at his bedside, etched with a hybrid of dolor and frustration. 

"What were you thinking, Jess?" and "How could you be so irresponsible?" were some of the words hurled at me last night. Cyrus didn't want me blaming myself, saying: "I'm an adult, Tadpole. I made the choice to hike up there." 

But I knew the risks. And I let him go anyway. 

"Jess?" Mom looked up with damp, puffy eyes. "You can't be late to school, sweetheart. Go on, your brother's well taken care of." I couldn't help but hear the disdain in that go on. 

Cyrus peeked his eyes open. "I'll be okay, Tadpole," he rasped, then held up our signature hand gesture: a C-shape with his palm, meant to imitate half a heart. I threw mine up to complete it. 

With a few parting words, I got ready for the day and left out the door, hearing my mother's faint prayers coming from the bedroom.
ANGER 


The clock of my fourth period class ticked and ticked, as it always did. But today, as my knees wobbled with impatience, the seconds that went  by seemed like days -- clock hands rotating with maddening leisure. Why won't the damn bell ring already? 

Just as I thought that, the bell rang. 

I scooped up my textbooks, dumped them in my locker, swung the door shut, and--- 

"Tadpole." A certain football jock materialized beside me. "You, um. You don't look so good." 

I gave him a smirk and an eye-roll. 

"You know, Reece, that's not exactly what a girl wants to hear. Especially from a guy she--" I hit the breaks, barely catching myself. 

"A guy she...?" 

I cleared my throat, trying to douse the awkward. "Nothing. Forget it." 

We walked down the hallway, dodging students scurrying to their next class. 

I could feel their stares: Reece Hampton and Jess Morisson, walking side by side? At any other school, people wouldn't bat an eye. But in our rinky-dink institution -- we were bound to be talk-of-the-week. 

"I noticed Cyrus isn't here today," said Reece. "Is everything okay?" 

I felt a fib rising out of my chest, and didn't have the energy to resist it. "He's fine. Just, um, a little under the weather." He could probably tell I was bullshitting. I was never a good liar. "But thanks for noticing. You know, this is probably the most we've interacted since..." 

"Middle school?" 

I nodded. "It's crazy to think we're finally getting our diplomas next week." 

"I just can't believe I wasted so much time," said Reece. He held the back of my palm. "When we hung out last night, it made realize how much I missed you... both of you." 

My cheeks warmed like hot coals. Thank God for my darker complexion. I'd hate for anyone to see me blush. "The feeling is mutual," I said. "And I'm sure I speak for Cyrus, too." 

A smirk dashed across his mouth. "Ah, yes. A twin thing, right? That's what you guys always said when we were kids." We walked even closer, garnering more looks. A stare here and a glance there. 

"Right. A twin thing," I said, leaning closer as a middle-finger to the gossipers. "So, were you heading to fifth?" 

The halls hushed, as if a deity pressed mute on all ambient noises. 

"Actually," a curious look flickered on his face, "I'm skipping fifth today. I was gonna ask if you want to tag along." 

I shaped my mouth to ask where... but I knew exactly where. I too had planned to ditch fifth period. The image of it gripped me like a vice. That purple glow. The stone inside the juniper tree. 

"You couldn't stop thinking about it, could you?" I asked. 

Reece shook his head, and the shuffling of steps resumed. "You too?" 

I inhaled deeply, pushing my brown curls back in frustration. "I have to know. I've got to go back." 

"Well, then," Reece jingled his keys in his hand, "let's go." 

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

The drive to Pike's Peak was surprisingly fast, and the mile-climb to Indigo Rock even faster. We rested at the same fork in the trail, looking up at the embankment. We kept all noises to a minimum at the risk of running into more army men, or whoever they were. 

So far, not a soul in sight. 

During the hike, Reece and I spoke about the stone. How we couldn't pry it out of our heads, like two addicts looking for our next fix. Where did it come from? Why does it have that ability? Reece couldn't wait to see more posts about his years in Notre Dame. He couldn't believe he got admitted, considering their low acceptance rate. 

As for me? An itch pestered the back of my head ever since we left last night. A dire question that needed answering. The only way to scratch that itch was to go back. 

"You can't really see it glow during the daytime," Reece whispered. We sat on a boulder, scouting from below the hill. The late-spring breeze swam across tall, yellow Aspens, then down across our backs. 

"You know how people say, 'if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?'" I asked. Reece bobbed a nod. "If it's too bright to see a weird, glowing stone, is it glowing at all?" 

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