Don't Go [Muke Clemmings]

Chapter Twelve

Luke

I didn't find him the next day, and then it was the weekend. I didn't know where Michael lived, and even if I did, it would be creepy as fûck to just track him down like that.

That Saturday evening, I was walking in the woods where Michael said he slept during his time of being a ghost. Well, when he wasn't with me.

I sat down against a tree, looking around me. I missed him so much, I was trying to imagine he was still here. I wasn't succeeding.

While I was sitting there, I saw a ratty old backpack on the other side of the trail. It was the one Michael was for some reason wearing when I met him in the school bathroom. I immediately stood up and started to leap towards it. I started to, without looking on either side of me, but I never finished.

+++++

I was woken up by laughing. I didn't open my eyes. "A bicycle? Who gets knocked out my a bicycle? If I was hit by one, I would just get right back up."

Another voice joined in. "I know, right? What a wimp. But hey, we should be saving this guy's life right now!" Somehow, this made everyone in the room laugh but me. Who were they talking about?

"Hey, don't talk about my son like that," said a new voice. My mom.

"Sorry, ma'am, but... if you were hit by a bicycle, do you think you would pass out for half an hour?"

"Depending on how it hit me, and how heavy it was. If you were on it, I'm sure I'd go into a coma."

Were they talking about me?

"Oh, he's awake!" One man in blue, papery clothes said when I opened my eyes. "Boy, is this yours?" he asked, holding up Michael's backpack.

My mom shook her head as I said, "Yeah, it's mine," and afterwards gave me a weird look. I shrugged.

+++++

There was a crumpled up paper in the backpack. It appeared to be from a notebook.

Throwing rocks at your window at midnight, it read.

You met me in your back yard that night... Was this a song or a poem? Was it about me?

In the moonlight you looked just like an angel in disguise... Ok, so it wasn't about me.

My whole life seemed like a postcard.

You were mine for a night

I was out of my mind

You were mine for a night

I don't know how to say goodbye

Making all our plans in the Santa Cruz sand that night

I thought I had you in the palm of my hand that night

And that was all. I decided it was a song, and my heart shattered into a million pieces when I realized he never finished it. But hey, maybe I found it for a reason...

A melody popped into my head as I read the words aloud, and I hoped it wasn't from another song because I was going to make these lyrics into music. Or as close to music as I can make.

"Thought I had you in the palm of my hand that night..." That was it. I had sung the whole thing. It was a very short song. "Screaming at the top of my lungs till my chest felt tight," I choked out, remembering the morning I realized he was gone. "Told myself I was never gonna be alright." I started crying as I shouted out to Michael: "You had me wrapped around your finger, I'm wrapped around your finger, I'm wrapped around your finger." I repeated it several times to make my point to... nobody. But I really was wrapped around his finger... So why wasn't I in heaven yet? I was pretty sure that was where his finger would be, if there was such a place.