The Gatekeepers

I nod. “That day changed my life. I live it over and over in my head.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Theo asks, in barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah, but I gotta tell you the whole story, that’s what my therapist says. I can’t keep pushing it down. But I gotta start at the very beginning, for context.”

Mr. Gorton clears his throat. “Hold on. This story could be a trigger, so why don’t we have those who weren’t friends with him clear the room for a few minutes? Maybe get a soda, use the washroom?”

Almost everyone scatters, save for Mallory, Theo, Kent, and Jasper. I don’t blame the others for leaving. Wish I could run from this story.

I look over at Theo before I start. “You cool?”

He nods and swallows real hard.

“I’d, um, just picked up some Chronic and wait... Is this, like, a safe space? Can I say stuff without being all incriminatory?”

“Absolutely,” Mr. Gorton confirms. “Please. Go on.”

“I’m chillin’ in the little valley under the railroad trestle just down the street from the school.”

I don’t mention that I was meeting Jasper there—none of this is his fault.

“I figure, it’s secluded and no one’s gonna see me. I pack my bowl and I have a couple of hits. And sheee-it, the Chronic is intense. Like, my lungs are on fire, but with pleasure. The white trichomes are—Wait, you know what? Not important. Anyway, I’m down there and I’m rocked.” I notice Mr. Gorton’s expression so I add, “I mean, I’m not trying to make this sound so great, because I haven’t touched anything since that day, not even a cough drop, and I never will again. You guys gotta learn to say no.”

Jasper nods and that surprises me.

“Point is, I’m not in my right mind and my reactions aren’t what they shoulda been. I’m having a hard time living with myself for being baked when everything went down. Like I wonder if there wasn’t something I could have done, had circumstances been different. These doubts, these questions? I feel like they’re gonna be with me for the rest of my life.”

I watch Theo’s jaw clench and unclench. To most people, he looks like a tough guy trying to keep his temper in check. But I know this is what he does when he’s trying not to cry. He reacted the same way when his family had to put down Monster, their ancient golden doodle. He was an awesome dog, always catching tennis balls in the deep end of their pool. Monster was Theo’s best friend until he met Braden.

I take a deep breath. “This is hard, but I think if I share what happened next with you guys, we can take something from it, we can maybe figure out some fixes. I don’t want anyone else to go through this again, not someone like me, and definitely not someone like Braden. He was a good Joe.”

I take a swig from my soda, clear my throat, and continue. The only sound in the room is that of warm air being pushed through the heating vents.

“So I see someone walking up and at first I panic, thinking whoever it is will bust me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s Braden and he’s cool. I knew he didn’t partake, but he also didn’t judge. I wave and say something like, ‘S’up, stargazer?’ ’cause we went to the same astronomy camp. But it was like he couldn’t see or hear me and we’re maybe twenty feet away. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept the night before.”

“He’d been having insomnia,” Theo said.

“There’s a strong link between chronic insomnia and suicide,” Mr. Gorton adds.

“I didn’t know that,” I said. “He was usually so, like, up, you know? Supercharged. Remember the thing with the forks?”

“Manic behavior’s another red flag,” Mr. Gorton says.

“Whoa,” I say. “Maybe we all need to get better at spotting the signs?”

Everyone nods.

“Anyway, I thought that was weird he didn’t say hey, but maybe he wanted to give me privacy, you know? Then, um, the tracks start to rumble a little bit because the train’s on the way.”

I stop and rest my face in my good hand. I hate reliving this. “I just wish I’d been more clearheaded. I wrestle with this a hundred times a day, no lie. We’re working on it in my sessions, so now I’m down from thinking about it a thousand times a day. I’m trying to move on, but sometimes I find myself going back to the spot. Not just in my head, in real life. I do drills—I time myself running up the hill, to see if I’d been focusing, if I could have gotten to him before... I wonder if I’d have been better off learning how to recognize warning signs?”

I feel something warm and wet hit my arm and I realize that Mallory’s crying. Didn’t know she was capable of tears.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” Mr. Gorton says, addressing her and Theo. They both nod.

“Go on,” she says. “Please.”

“I should have known what was going to happen when he put down his backpack. I should have and I didn’t. I picture that goddamned backpack all day long, too—it was black and it had a couple of yellow eyes sewn on, like when you walked behind him, this evil bug would be staring back at you.”

“The bag looked like a roach’s face,” Theo says in a choked voice.

I nod. “He was always doing stuff like that. Remember his Hello Kitty hat?”

Mallory smiles through her tears, just for a second, and wraps her big hoodie tighter around herself.

“He puts his backpack on the ground, and I guess I thought he was gonna pull something out of it? But he doesn’t, he just sits it down all neatly and careful-like. Then the tracks start really humming because the train’s close. The spot we’re in isn’t close enough to the station to slow down yet, so it’s rolling right along, probably forty-five miles an hour. The conductor obviously sees Braden, so he begins to pull the horn. The sound is just, like, overwhelming. I can feel it in my bones and the pit of my stomach, it’s that intense. I try to climb the hill, but it’s real wet and I’m slipping all over the place and my reaction time is for shit. The engineer guy’s just honking and honking and honking and the wail of the air horn’s getting more and more desperate and Braden’s standing there, right next to the tracks. I start yelling, ‘Train! Train!’ but he’s in a daze, like, mesmerized by the sound of the wheels on the track. Then, calm as anyone doing something they do every day, like climbing into the shower or walking out the door, he takes a big step and stands in front of the train. At the last minute, he raises his arms in front of his chest, like he’s suddenly trying to protect himself. And, honest to God, I think I’m hallucinating, I think this can’t be real. But it was.”

Mallory is openly weeping now and Mr. Gorton dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief. Kent is curled up with his feet on the chair, clutching his knees and quietly sobbing into his jeans. Jasper has his arm around him, trying to give him some comfort. Poor Kent’s gotta be thinking Stephen’s last moments were probably like this, too. Theo begins to quake, but makes no sound.

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