A Tragic Kind of Wonderful

“This is how you feel,” he says. “Isn’t it?”

David watches me. Like he wants an answer. But I don’t know what he means.

“You know,” he says, “when people try to talk you out of doing something? And you don’t know whether or not they’re lying, just saying anything to get you to stop?”

I nod.

He looks down at his shoes for a moment, then back at me. “I will never do it to you again, Mel. I swear.”

I believe him.

He says, “Promise you’ll never do it to me?”

I nod again.

“All right. So if we leave, are you going to want to come back alone later and try this?”

I open my mouth to reply, but what’s the truth? I want to say no, but I’m not sure that’s— “Thanks for not lying,” he says grimly. He stands. “I’m coming over.”

“No, don’t!”

He bends down and plants a foot against the short wall.

“I … I …” I want so badly to tell him I’ll never come back, anything to stop him from jumping, even if it’s a lie … This must be how he feels, and it’s horrible.

And now I’m reliving my worst memory, standing helpless on this roof, about to watch someone do something ridiculously dangerous, utterly pointless, and probably fatal. And like last time, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Yet I don’t feel helpless despair this time. I feel … I’m not sure what …

David crouches and positions his hands on the gravel like a sprinter. Does he do track and field at his school? I don’t even know.

“Don’t do it!” I shout. “I don’t want you to!”

He ignores me and settles himself. Nolan ignored me, too. And not just that once, but also other times. It was infuriating.

David launches himself and sprints toward me.

I hurl the Magic Wand across the roof and yell, “If you jump I’ll never talk to you again!”

He skids to a stop, spraying gravel. I don’t know if it was because I shouted or to dodge the Magic Wand.

I hold out my hands, palms down. “See? I’m not shaking. It’s not a lie—I’ll never speak to you again!”

He watches me. Then he says, “I believe you, but I can live with it if it keeps you from falling down this hole later.” He shakes his head. “You can’t talk me out of this.”

“Yes I can.” I squat and push my right foot against the short wall, ready to run. “I’ll do whatever you do. If it’s okay for you, it’s okay for me.”

“Mel? What—”

“If you jump, I’ll jump. If you leave, I’ll leave. Either we do this or we don’t. It’s up to you.”

Now he looks confused.

He says, “If we leave, how do I know you won’t come back later—”

“You don’t. Maybe I will. You can’t control me.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“I don’t know for sure what I’m going to do tomorrow,” I say, “so I can’t promise anything. Neither can you—”

“Mel, I promise you, one hundred percent; I’ll never try to jump over this death trap as long as you promise, too.”

“Well, I can’t. If that’s too much for you, I’m sorry.”

He walks over a few steps and picks up the Magic Wand. He stands there looking at it. I’m not sure from here but maybe he’s smiling? I can’t imagine why.

“Come on, David. Are we doing this or not? I’m getting hungry.”

He chuckles, spinning the Magic Wand in his hand, looking at it.

“Quit stalling. I want breakfast. With extra bacon.”

He walks toward me. After a few steps, he says, “I thought you were going to do whatever I did.”

I walk forward, too. We stop ten feet apart, the skylight between us. He pivots and walks along his edge, and I walk along mine. By the time we reach the far end, our steps are synchronized.

We round the skylight and walk toward each other. He holds out his arms. I do the same. We hug.

He squeezes me and whispers, “Please don’t come here again.”

“I’ll do my best, but no promises. You might have heard; sometimes I don’t think straight.”

He snorts. “That’s an understatement.”

I pull back. “Are … are you making fun of me?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Too soon?”

“No!” I hug him again, tightly. “Not too soon.”

We head for the fire escape. Halfway there I notice we’re holding hands. At the ladder, he raises the Magic Wand.

“Here, you dropped this.” He shrugs. “Sort of.”

I take it and slide it into my back pocket, star down, with the joke book.

“You know,” I say, “I didn’t come to jump. It’s not something I’ve been thinking about. It never occurred to me till I got here. I just came to say good-bye.”

“So did you?”

“No. I thought this would be the right place to do it, but it’s not.”





HAMSTER IS RUNNING

HUMMINGBIRD IS FLYING

HAMMERHEAD IS CRUISING

HANNIGANIMAL IS UP!

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