Chapter 48

“Dying was never as hard as having to live again.”
—Lynn Vroman, Energy Reborn

RACHEL PULLED UP at a quarter till eight and I got in her car to go to school. Another day of Algebra II awaited us. I leaned across the seat to give her a quick kiss and then leaned back and closed my eyes. She didn’t say anything—just reached across and took my hand as she drove to school.

“When you’re ready, we can talk. If you want to. I’m here and I love you, Jacob,” she said as we walked into class. I smiled and squeezed her hand. There was no time to wallow in self-pity. We were caught up in hyperbolas, transverse and conjugate axes, asymptotes, and equations. We had our lunch period and an hour after class before I went to drivers’ ed but we were pressed to study and work out the practice sheets. I left that class at five and found my sweet Rachel waiting for me.

“Can we go to Red Robin for food tonight?” I asked. “I’m not ready to face either of our families. I just want to be with you.”

“Yes, let’s. I’ll text Mom,” she said.

“I’d better text my mom, too,” I sighed.

For the first time since V3 turned fifteen, I wished I could drink a good dark beer with my burger and fries. V1 wasn’t much of a beer drinker, preferring dark smooth red wines. But the more I thought about it, beer had been the beverage of choice in my late teens and college years. I went straight from that to single malt scotch and didn’t start drinking wine until I was in my thirties. I suppose my juvenile taste buds were egging me on. I slurped on my Dr Pepper and put my burger down.

“I slept with my sister this weekend,” I whispered.

“I hope you mean Em and not Peyton,” Rachel said. I just nodded. Of course. “I sort of thought you already had.”

“Not exactly. I mean, we’ve fooled around. A lot. But we weren’t going to cross that line. It’s incest, Rachel. I’ve committed incest.”

“I looked it up,” she said. “When I started dating you and met Emily for the first time, I wasn’t sure what I thought about it. I mean, I’m not opposed to sharing you with our girlfriends. I just needed to know if I could accept Emily as one of them. The answer was yes.”

“What you call my old-fashioned sense of morals has me spinning. I shouldn’t have done that. But I remembered, Rachel. I remembered why we were so close. I remembered what happened and I accepted her for the bond that we made years ago.”

“Can you tell me? I won’t pry.”

“I was buried alive,” I said. I tried to keep it as simple as possible so I wouldn’t get too caught up in what I felt. And I wasn’t going to tell her about the experience in the other dimension. “She caught my hand as the sand covered me and wouldn’t let go until rescuers dug me out. Even after I died, she wouldn’t let go.”

“Died?”

“Yeah. I died. I was buried for at least ten minutes. And all I knew was that an angel held my hand and wouldn’t let go. Can you imagine, Rache? Can you imagine what she must have felt—feeling the life escape from my body while she held my hand and refused to let me go?”

Rachel scooted around the booth to sit next to me instead of across and wrap me in her arms. She was crying. I was crying. The server paused before continuing past our table without saying anything.

“For seven years, I’ve been having nightmares. Em always knew and came to wake me, telling me it was all a dream. I didn’t remember being buried. I didn’t remember dying. All I remembered—dreamed about—was the unending pressure closing in on my body, the inability to breathe, to feel anything, to hear anything. It kept getting worse as I got older and I decided the only way I could stop the dreams was to walk in front of a bus,” I said.

“Oh, Jacob. No wonder. No wonder you love her so much and she loves you. She brought you back to life.” So true. “Jacob ... now...”

“Now I know what really happened, and I’m older. I think I can cope. I might still have some nightmares. And if you want us to go swimming, I’d prefer a pool to the beach,” I said, trying to laugh a little and discovering the ability was lying just beneath my tears. “I told Em and I’ll tell you and all our girlfriends. I’ve decided to live. I won’t let go.”

“I love you, Jacob. I’m sure we can all accept Emily when the time comes.”

We both heaved a deep breath and reached for our soft drinks. The server came by and we ordered more fries. Rachel stayed on my side of the booth and just pulled her basket toward her across the table.

“I said I did some reading. We’re all taught not to mess around with close relatives, but a huge number of siblings who are near the same age still do. The wider the age-gap, the more severe the legal penalties. When there is a sufficient gap, especially if one is a minor, the law considers it coercive and abusive, even if it’s consensual. Some religions try to paint it as sinful, but there are others that are quite open to it. With birth control, the risk of deformed babies is lowered and even if there is a pregnancy, it usually takes two or three generations of incest for recessive genes to flourish. The most cogent argument against incest is that it breaks down the normative function of a family. Roles get confused. You can’t divorce your sister. She’s still your sister. But you are choosing to redefine that relationship to one that can be broken. I’m not saying it will be, just that it can be. So psychologically, you go from an immutable, eternal relationship to a changeable, temporal relationship. If you and Emily ‘break up’ you can avoid each other and pretend you don’t exist. Your parents and little sister can’t do that. To them, you are still their children and older siblings. That’s where things get mucked up and difficult. But I believe in you, Jacob, and I believe in the kind of relationship you have with Emily. I, too, won’t let go.”

“I love you, Rachel. I could never ask for a better girlfriend. And I never will.”

“Then let’s pay the check and go somewhere we can make love. I’ve missed you.”

9 July 2019

I’ve died three times. I find even saying that is strange. I mean even to me and I lived through it. I mean ... sort of.

The new-found memories of dying when I was eight and my sister holding me and not letting me go—that’s pretty powerful stuff. If I had been able to remember it earlier, I wonder if that would have stopped me from trying to kill myself. But neither Em nor I knew what to do with the feeling we had back then. It only looked bleak and hopeless.

And then I killed myself. I know the doctors say I was in a coma, but when I woke up, I was a different person. I had a different attitude toward life—and toward my sister. My head held an entire lifetime of experience that I hadn’t had time to live. I was more mature ... I hope. And with that range of experience I was better equipped to deal with the nightmares and the memories.

That brought me to the point where my sister had to leave for Service and threw caution to the wind to make love to me. My heart stopped. I had a traumatic seizure and life escaped from my body. What brought me back? I’d like to thank a higher power, but I think it or they would have been just as satisfied to let me die. No, like the first time I died, my sister would not let go. And I promised her I would live.

How many times can a man die and return to life? It’s a question I hope never to have answered. Every day is precious to me and I will live it to the max.

I got back in my routine as quickly as possible. Up at five and go for a run. Only Em and I had been driving to a park to run and now I had to run from the house. By the time I got to the park, I had to turn around and run home. It wasn’t as nice a run but I was determined to keep getting better and stronger. I still had a bit of a catch in my right leg.

So, Thursday, I was surprised when a VW Beetle pulled up alongside me about a block from my house. The window was down and a woman I vaguely recognized as also being a runner in the park stuck her head out.

“Hey! Where’s your running partner?” she asked.

“She had to start National Service,” I said. “Now I have to run from home instead of going to the park to run.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I go over every morning. Want a lift?”

“I ... uh ... have to be back in time to get ready for summer school.”

“No problem. I never spend more than an hour on workdays. Now, weekends are a different matter. Come on. I’ll get you home in plenty of time.”

Never get in a car with a stranger. Hah! What was she going to do, rape me?

“I’m Jacob Hopkins,” I said when I was buckled in.

“That sounds familiar. You live close?”

“You picked me up just a block from my house.” I looked at her, assessing her fit trim body. She was definitely in her forties but I’d seen her stretching for her runs in the park and knew she was powerful.

“Nanette Schwartz,” she said. “I’ve seen you running all summer. If you want to continue to run in the park, I don’t mind taking you over and back.”

“That would be great, Nanette. I know I’ve seen you. You look really familiar.”

“Yeah. Probably just from passing on the trails. If you don’t mind me being bold, I’d like to give you some running tips,” she said when we got to the parking lot. I started stretching, keeping in mind being gentle with the stretches like Jock told me to do before I was warmed up.

“That would be great,” I said. “I’m pretty new at it. Still recovering from an accident.”