Feel Me Fall Read online

  Nico said, simply, “Be well.”

  Nico gazed at Viv and she shook her head, declining to say anything.

  Molly said, “I don’t know why you were so mean. Someone told me that hurt people hurt people. Maybe you were one of those. I’m glad you don’t hurt anymore.”

  Silence fell over us, and Derek was the last to speak.

  “He was a douche.” He looked at me. “Satisfied?”

  We moved downriver. We’d come too far to turn around and head all the way back to the crash site. I hated to admit it, but we traveled faster without Ryan, and though the jungle never got any easier to traverse, we picked up a rhythm, a sense of where to step and where to avoid which increased our tempo.

  Derek took the leadership position. There was no discussion; it just happened. He used his metal makeshift hatchet to whack down the overgrowth, and as he did, I sensed a change in him. Like watching when the President takes the oath of office. Something happens when they place their hand on a bible and swear to protect the country from all enemies, foreign and domestic. Seriousness descends upon them. Derek had that same seriousness; he was in charge now, something he probably never experienced before. He commanded and carried a certain respect.

  I walked behind him. He caught my eye. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I don’t know where that idea came from that you can’t speak ill of the dead. As if dying somehow erases what people did while they were alive.”

  “I didn’t say anything, Derek.”

  “But you’re thinking it, Emily. I know you. I can see it. I held my tongue back there. But I’ll tell you what I really wanted to say: I’m not sorry he’s dead. He was a bully. Life just got a whole lot better. Not just for me. For all the people from this moment on who won’t ever cross paths with him.”

  “You don’t know that. He could’ve changed.”

  “No one changes. Not really. People say they do, but I don’t believe it. I’ll always be what I’ve always been.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He considered and smirked. “King of the World.”

  Maybe the plane crash was the best thing to have ever happened to Derek Wert. How messed up was that?

  “What’s that make me?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. What does it make you?”

  Not you, I thought. Definitely not you.

  Still hungry, my body felt as if it was eating itself. There was a black hole in my stomach and it sucked everything into it. I knew I could live without eating for a few days, but my body let me know in no uncertain terms it would make me pay; it would remind me with every step, kicking and screaming like a baby’s cry, I want food!

  Up ahead white mushrooms dotted the jungle floor like edible Whack-a-Moles. They were shaped like little umbrellas. I was so giddy at the sight, I shouted, “Food! Food!” Saliva gathered in my mouth. I reached down and picked their caps, about to eat them, when Derek grabbed my hands and scolded, “No!”

  He took them from my hands and rubbed the mushrooms together, effectively crumpling them up.

  The others had come running.

  “Why did you do that?” I said.

  “Why do you think? They’re poisonous. Like, deadly.”

  I stared down at them. “But they’re the same kind you gave Ryan.”

  Molly, Viv, and Nico looked at Derek. Feeling their gaze, he said, “There’s all kinds of mushrooms, Em. A lot of them look alike. Some look just like that one, but they’re a shade whiter.”

  My stomach rumbled, and my thinking was cloudy from hunger, but I was certain those were the mushrooms Ryan had eaten. The same ones that nearly killed him.

  Derek added, “I didn’t like the guy, that’s no secret. But come on.” Derek didn’t wait to engage in a debate, and he continued onward, the matter settled. I found Viv’s face, and though we didn’t say anything, she seemed to ask me what does it matter now?

  As Molly and Nico walked past, I grabbed ahold of Viv and whispered. “Those were the mushrooms.”

  “You really believe Derek poisoned him on purpose?”

  I didn’t say it aloud for I feared the answer would make it real. Once spoken, there was no way to backtrack. But in my heart, I knew: Derek had gotten his revenge.

  Chapter 18

  The camera flash nearly blinded me. I wore a second-hand rose-colored dress I’d found at Goodwill. (The Goodwill located near Beverly Hills always had fantastic cast-offs.) Derek stood next to me in a fitted tuxedo, his hand hovering close to my rib cage in an embrace. With each successive photo, his hand grew firmer and more squirrely.

  “Smile,” Miranda said.

  I smiled, showing my slightly crooked teeth, which never had braces.

  “Perfect,” she said.

  Miranda and Derek’s father stood off to the side of their living room. I caught his father’s eyes on my legs, subtly checking me out. He had a cocktail in his hand and its bourbon-y smell wafted through the room. He looked how I felt: here only because of the person next to him.

  “Give her the corsage, honey.”

  The whole picture-taking event seemed choreographed and scripted by Derek’s mother, and we followed along, dutiful actors playing a part. Derek slid a wrist corsage on me and I did the honors of pinning one against his lapel. Derek would’ve looked dapper if he wasn’t so nervous and had better posture. Derek, I realized, with all of his economic advantages, probably wished to have been born anyone else but himself.

  “One last picture,” Miranda said. “Give her a kiss.”

  My mortification complete, Derek leaned into my cheek and left a wet smear.

  “That is just adorable!”

  I know Miranda drove Derek nuts. She was the very definition of a helicopter parent, but I thought it must be nice to have someone who, you know, gave a damn. The whole event was the exact opposite from my home. My mother didn’t know I was going to prom, and she didn’t ask when I took longer in the bathroom to do up my hair. I could’ve told her, I suppose. That would’ve been the mature thing. But I wanted her to make the effort. That would’ve been the proper mom-thing. Or maybe I was just scared of another trip to the Olive Garden to talk about dating and sex.

  Once outside, we took another photo with the limousine as our backdrop, and Miranda hugged me. She whispered, “Have a good time tonight. I hope it’s magical.” She slid a small envelope into my purse.

  We got into the limo, all smiles, and as soon as the chauffeur closed the door, I let my face settle into repose. I could feel the muscles slacken, tired from all the false smiles.

  Derek said, “Thanks for doing that, Em. I don’t know how I can pay you back.”

  I opened my silver purse and took out the envelope and ran my finger under the glue. “Your mother, ohmygod. She gave me this.” I laughed and showed it to him.

  It was a room key from the same hotel where our prom was being held. The room was probably strewn with roses and champagne, complete with a couples massage and breakfast in bed.

  Derek said, “Now you know why I am the way I am.”

  “It’s sweet. Maybe it’s in case you drink too much.”

  “That’s what this is for,” and he pointed at the limo.

  “It’s like those honeymoon suites from The Bachelor. They don’t always have sex, you know.”

  He considered and looked over at me hopefully. “I’d hate for the room to go to waste.”

  I shook my head, the meaning clear: not gonna happen. No way, no how.

  “Guy’s gotta try,” and he smiled.

  We pulled up to a five star hotel. A line of limos parked nearby—stretch limos, massive SUV limos, and the mother of all ostentatious ones had a hot tub in the back. Other kids had borrowed their parents’ cars. My favorite was an old-time-y car with a crank that reminded me of Charlie Chaplin. Maybe they were rented from a specialty car place, but I thought not: they were from some father’s car collection. Girls I recognized fr
om school paraded past in designer gowns, gloriously dressed and sparkling, bright with promise and I was struck with how much I would’ve liked to have gone with Johannes. It was, of course, impossible, but it didn’t stop me from dreaming.

  I always felt prom was one of those overrated high school conventions that people put too much importance on, like New Year’s Eve parties with all the pressure to have the best time ever and were inevitably a disappointment. The best times came from the unexpected, the unplanned.

  And yet, my DNA couldn’t resist being part of something elegant, something so red-carpety. I wasn’t Jewish or Hispanic or southern and would never have a Bat Mitzvah, Quinceanera or cotillion ball. Aside from some far-off (potential) wedding, this is the closest I’d get to feeling like, well, not a princess, but someone pretty. Someone special.

  When I’d first told Viv I was going to prom with Derek she thought I was joking. She didn’t believe me, not for days. When she realized I wasn’t joking, her perpetual smile fell to a concerned grimace, and then back to normal. “You could always come with us!”

  There were facts: I couldn’t go with the man I wanted. I didn’t want to go alone. And as much as Viv insisted we’d have fun, there was no way I was going to take the spotlight away from Viv’s night. She loved prom, had probably planned for it since elementary school. In the end, I told her no.

  Once inside, prom was prom: the decked-out ballroom. The 10-piece live band complete with back-up singers that played a variety of jazz, classics, ballads and occasional covers. I gazed over the students and had fun determining who was either bored, having a horrible date, or in love. Of course, no school dance was without The Spectacle. Like clockwork there was a couple arguing, a girl soon to be in tears, a gaggle of her friends trying to calm her down.

  But what took the cake was the horrible activity called dancing. No twerking allowed. No “freak” dancing. Still: there was enough overbite and awkwardness to last a lifetime. Education taught us many things but rarely the necessities on how to survive in life and dating.

  Off to the side, Johannes watched it all, snazzy in his tux. Next to me, Derek stood and offered his arm.

  On the dance floor, it killed me to be so close to Johannes. I‘d caught his eye as he watched me dance and I imagined him as my date, twirling me on the dance floor, his lips nuzzling my neck. Instead, Derek stepped on my feet and proceeded to sweat as he placed his hands on my back, his body as firm as a wet noodle.

  Derek asked, “How am I doing?”

  I tried not to clench my teeth. “Good. You’re doing good.”

  “This is my first time dancing.”

  “Really? You’d never know.”

  He caught me looking off to the sidelines. “Who are you looking at?”

  I didn’t think I was being so obvious. “Oh, nothing.”

  “You’re like a chick from a spy film doing the Tango. Are you hiding some moves? Karate chops? A gun under your dress?”

  “Nothing like that,” I said. “Though I am an assassin.”

  Though Derek was nervous, he seemed to be having a good time. Underneath his awkwardness, this was who he really was. Not a bad guy, I thought.

  I felt good about myself. I was doing a good thing. I’d made Derek happy, and in doing so, I was happy. At least he was trying and I spent a few more dances on the floor until my toes couldn’t take anymore.

  I took a bathroom break, hoping Johannes would follow. I thought he’d find me in the hotel hallway, but he never did. He was the chaperone. It was a school event. And dancing with a student was verboten. I wasn’t looking for anything illicit, only romantic. A gesture. A rose. Something.

  I got a lot of strange glances from my classmates wondering what Derek and I were doing together. On the way back to the table, I overheard someone ask, “Did she lose a bet or something?” I was thankful Derek wasn’t in earshot. No lost bet. Like “It’s A Wonderful Life”, I was earning my wings.

  I sat back at the table with Derek, watching Viv and Nico, arms entwined, a smile on her face, boredom on his. They were together. My secret still held.

  Even though I walked with a murderer, I didn’t feel threatened. I didn’t know what I planned to do when I got back, but Viv was right: what did it matter right now?

  So when we came across a big batch of mushrooms and Derek deemed them safe, we piled our faces, shoveling them in. They tasted like earth and fiber, grit and grass. Taste didn’t matter; sustenance did, and the satisfying feeling of fullness. So many things I had worried about fell away. Survival stripped away the nonsense of modern living. I vowed on my return to forgo shopping, to watch less TV, or get rid of it altogether; to live simply and wake with gratitude at being alive.

  I made a list: be nicer to my mom, be an honest friend, help people more, and to think about myself less. The insistent Me! Me! Me! was a recipe for madness.

  When we finished, our mouths little lawnmowers, we packed my cross-body bag so full of mushrooms the bag couldn’t clamp shut. No one asked Molly if she would carry it. Viv suggested me, since it was my bag. I declined. I told Viv, “You should.” Everyone trusted Viv.

  Nico asked Derek, “Are any of these mushrooms the magic type?”

  “Nope. Don’t need you bugging out while we’re trying to get out of here.”

  “I didn’t mean for now. I meant, maybe I could take ‘em back home.” Off our looks, he said, “Something good should come from this trip.”

  Viv said, “Making it out alive is all I’m asking for.”

  Nico said, “Pretty basic, don’t you think?”

  “Sometimes you’re so stupid, Nico.”

  “Look, we’re getting out of here. That’s not debatable. What worries me is when we get back.”

  Viv said, “Why?”

  “Hasn’t this experience made you think? Like, what are we doing, going to school, doing the things we do?”

  “Are you stoned?”

  “Stop asking me that!” Nico calmed down. “Can I just have a thought without you harping on me?”

  Viv’s face went tight. But she stayed put.

  “I’m just saying,” Nico continued, “we learn all this stuff and yet we don’t know anything. Not really. I don’t know how to survive. I couldn’t hunt if my life depended on it. I can’t read the stars. I don’t know a poisonous beetle from a ladybug. I can’t even do math without a calculator. Can’t spell without spellcheck.”

  “So what are you saying? You’re gonna drop out of school? You’re on the National Honor Society. You get straight As without trying.”

  “I know I’m smart. Learning things comes easy to me. I’m just wondering what I’m studying for…besides to make a living. ‘Cause that seems pretty shallow from where I’m sitting.”

  “You could always stay,” Viv said.

  “I hate this place. And it probably hates me.” He burped, waved it away and turned to us. “Forget I brought it up. In fact, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to brainwash me back to commercialism with extreme prejudice. Once we get back I’ll be the first in line to deforest this place. Hell, give me a bulldozer and I’ll plow this place down.”

  Sadly, we all probably felt the same: we were splattered with mud, our arms crisscrossed with scratches, our skin polka-dotted with insect bites and scabs, and looking at Viv I thought I could Paint-by-Numbers across her body.

  Suddenly, the buzz of insects went from a drone to white static, growing ever louder. It seemed to take shape, morphing around us, as if a swarm was approaching.

  Viv raised her head to the sky. “Are there killer bees in the jungle?”

  “No,” Derek said.

  Nico said, “The bugs are going nuts out here.”

  Derek tilted his head. “Those aren’t bugs.” He listened more intently, his lips curving into a smile. “It’s a plane.”

  “A plane?” Molly asked.

  Derek said, “It’s coming this way.”

  Smiles spread across their faces. Not m
ine: I didn’t want a repeat of the damn parrot. As we listened, it was clear, the sounds of a propeller, flying low. I wanted to cry.

  Viv said, “They haven’t forgotten about us!”

  The canopy of trees blocked the view; there was no way a plane could see us. Derek said, “We’ve gotta get out in the open.”

  We ran towards the river. Cannibals could’ve been after us, and we wouldn’t have run any faster. I leaped over a stump, tripped, and almost wiped out. I got back on my feet and pushed leaves and branches out of my way, running through them like solid cobwebs—

  The plane was coming closer—

  Nico passed me. Derek, too—

  This was it. Our rescue! I was going home!

  The plane was nearly overhead—

  I burst out from the wall of green into the open and waded into the river, waving my hands overhead. I heard the sound of the plane’s propeller fly past before I saw it: a small floatplane, the kind that could land on the water, its engine in the nose, a streak of yellow in the sky.

  “Hey! Over here! Over here!”

  We jumped up and down, trying to make ourselves bigger.

  Desperate, I shouted to Nico. “Your watch!” The watch was silver and could reflect the sun. Nico slipped off his watch, adjusting it in the air to find the light.

  “Hurry!”

  It reflected.

  But the plane soon looked like the silhouette of a giant mosquito, continuing its path down the river.

  Viv and Molly screamed, “No! Turn back! Turn back! We’re right here!”

  “Just wait,” Nico said. “It’ll turn around.”

  Derek’s head was down, his hands on his face. If he’d given up, there had to be a reason. “Derek?” I asked.

  He hesitated, not wanting to break our spirits. “He would’ve dipped his wing.”

  “Not always, right?” said Nico. “Maybe they’ve got different rules down here. He didn’t just fly right over us. He’d have to have seen us. He’d have to.”

  Derek didn’t answer, only slowly waded back to shore.

  We stayed in the river, waving our hands and holding out hope, with water up to our knees. We stupidly thought maybe the pilot had a rear-view mirror or a camera on the plane—like one of those weird Google mapping cars—that graphed and plotted our whereabouts and spit out the coordinates on a computer screen.