The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

42...

An ending, as promised. 

42...

If I could hear her heartbeat again, I knew that I could do anything. But Pam didn't have a heartbeat anymore. I would never hear it again. Instead, all I could hear was the sounds of the water and the wind. Soon I could hear rain too, as it fell from the dark sky onto the three of us.

            "You know." Lisa said again.

            She was still looking at me. Still waiting. But for what?

            Yes, I knew. I knew that I loved her and my mother. I knew that I did. There were things that I knew without knowing now that I had seen more of the world than four white walls and a mirror.

            I knew that sometimes there were answers, and sometimes there were only questions. One question was all I could focus on in that moment. How.

            Pam was between us on the ground, her body getting colder and colder. I wanted to save her. I wanted to make her eyes full again. Full of life, like when she looked at me the last time. When she was so glad that I was alive. I wanted her to look at me like that again.

            But she couldn't. She was empty now. And I didn't know how to fix it.

            "Roy," Lisa's voice was loud enough for me to hear over the noise all around us from the water and the rain. "You don't have to think. You just have to know."

            "I can't," I insisted, shaking my head. "I want to but I can't."

            Lisa turned her head to the side, still keeping her eyes on mine. I couldn't look away from her when she did that. I didn't want to. "Just feel it Roy. It's already inside of you, you just have to feel it."

            I opened my mouth and then closed it again, shaking my head in confusion. I didn't understand. I wanted to, more than anything. But I was lost again. Lost in her words and how desperately we both wanted to help the woman lying in the sand between us.

            "What's holding you back?" Lisa asked me, her voice much stronger than mine.

            "I-I can't—" I looked down. "I can't hear her anymore."

            I knew she understood me. She always understood me, even when I didn't say anything at all. "But you've always been able to hear it," she said, causing me to look up. "You showed it to me once, in your memories. You heard it there. So bring it back now. Listen for it and hold onto it until you can hear it again for real," she gripped my hands tightly. "Do it Roy. I'll help you."

            Lisa closed her eyes. I quickly did the same.

            I tried to focus.

I tried to listen.

I still couldn't hear it. I couldn't concentrate.

"Come on," Lisa mumbled. I felt her squeeze my hands even tighter.

"Please help me," I whispered. I knew she was trying so hard. But I didn't know if it would be enough.

Then I felt her palm against my cheek, her fingers brushing against my jaw as she reached out to touch me. And that's when I heard it. The memory of a quiet, familiar rhythm that I had only ever shared with one person. Lisa had heard it once, days ago when she saw inside of my mind. It was my first memory.

I gasped and fell forward, my whole body shaking as I focused on the memory Lisa had given back to me. The memory of my mother's heartbeat, strong and loud in my head. The emotions that came with the sound were more than I could bear. I was sobbing now, with my eyes tightly shut. But I could feel more than sadness. More than fear and that cold anxiety that used to cripple me. Now I could feel life, or the memory of it. And I had to make it real again.