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Authors: Greever Williams

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BOOK: On Tenterhooks
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Jimmy chuckled at his own joke. Martin didn’t smile.

 


Anyway
,” Jimmy continued
.

Weirder than that? Yes, absolutely.
There was some albino-looking preacher
man
that came in around
three
or so
.
He was singing to himself, walked up and down a few of the aisles
.
I was real bored, so I kept an eye on him
.
He didn’t buy
nothing.
He didn’
t even look at stuff

a
lmost like he was
just
here to be here
,
or something
.
That was about it
.
Nothing else weird
. . .
unless you count
that
ninety-dollar tip
I just scored
.
I’d call th
at
weird
.
Good
. . .
but weird
,
I guess.”

 

Martin stared
at Jimmy
,
and then looked down again at the letter
he still held in his hand
, thinking.

 

“A preacher?” he asked
.

 


Yes sir
!
He had the whole outfit
on—
old-timey lookin’
hat ‘n all.”

 

“Was he tall and really pale?”

 

“Yep!  You know him?”

 

Martin was scared
.
Was it the
man
from his dreams?  The description sounded so
similar
.

 

“Thanks Jimmy,” he said, turning back down the toy aisle to return to the pharmacy.

 

“Oh,” he yelled back to Jimmy, “p
lease tell Lloyd I’d like to speak with him when he gets in.”

 

Jimmy nodded.

 

“Will do sir!” he yelled in reply, shaking his head
.

 

He
checked his watch,
strained to see the parking lot through the glass front door
.
Seeing no one in sight, particularly his tardy relief, he
swore under
his breath
.
He turned the volume back up on the portable
TV
he kept under the counter
and returned to
his
stool, hoping that his shift would end
on time
.

Chapter
1
2

 

Nearly a day after
she sent her message to
Zack
,
Abby
got a response
.
Between
classes,
she had ch
ecked her
social network
account and found
a new message waiting from her newest “
friend,” Say
Goodbye to Me
.
It had arrived right before lunch, but she had not opened it yet
.
Although she still was skeptical, she did not trust how she might react when she read it
.
She wan
ted it to be a private moment
.

 

Now at home, she stared at her Inbox. The message stared back with the same headline she had used when she submitted her message:
Re: Goodbye
.
A
s with any other conversation, this one showed the first line of the new response
.
It read:
Heya Gabbsalot!

 

Her heart was tight and
her throat was thick
.

Gabbsalot
.

That’s what Zack had called her since she was three years old
.
She had been late to start talking, but as he liked to put it, “
Once
she started, we
could never shut her up!” 
O
ver time, he shortened it to

Gabbs,

but he never called her Abigail or Abby, and no one else ever used Gabbs
.

 

Hearing Zack’s voice in
her
head forced her to relive his death once again.
Her nightmare had some of the facts right, even though she had
not
been at
his final
game
nearly a year ago
. A case of strep throat had kept her at home.
Zack had just come off the field at the end of the
third
quarter of what was slated to be
S Tech
’s easy victory ove
r one of their division rivals
. Thanks to his precision passes, the
Armadillos
were already ahead by
three
touchdowns
.
As he left the field, cheers went up from the home team side. Zack took off his helmet and raised it up to the crowd to
thank
them
.
As he lifted it up, it slipped through his fingers
.
The helmet crashed down on his head
.
Those who had been
nearby
said
he stood still
momentarily
.
In the next instant, he crumpled to the ground
,
as if invisible puppet
strings had been severed and gravity
had taken
over
.
T
he standby EMS crew worked for several minutes to revive him before taking him to the hospital
.
But
as
Abby and her parents were told later,
Zack
had likely been dead before
hitting
the ground.

 

He was solid
.
He was strong
.
He was smart
.
Now
,
he was dead
.
None of his strength, his kindness and his compassion had helped him
.
It was instant death, instant goneness.
He was gone with no chance for her to say “thanks” for being
big brother
Zack and for letting her be Gabbs
.

 

One week
later
, t
he neurosurgeon official
ly ruled the
cause of death a
n
intracranial injury
, a massive
bleeding
of the brain due to
extreme
blunt force trauma
.

 


Typically
,
t
his type of severe damage only happens
with major
accident
s

a car wre
ck, a fall from a
high
ladder, etc
.
Although we couldn’t find any evidence of it, he must’ve had a pre-existing condition that contributed to the injury. Normally, the weight and velocity of a football helmet held at arm’s length should have done nothing more than left a nasty bruise
,
or
given him
a concussion at worst.
But,
the damage found during the autopsy, coupled with the consistent eyewitness accounts
,
leaves no room for debate.”

 

In the we
eks that followed
the
funeral, memorial services and
candlelight vigils
held
her and her parents
in some place of high honor.
She accepted hugs from Zack

s friends
, many of
who
m
she didn’t know
.
She shook
hands with
his professors and classmates. She
met people who were comfortable confessing to her
that they
did
n’t even know Zack personally. T
o Abby
,
these confessions
made their sincere condolences all the
more
bittersweet.

 

Gabbsalot
.
Reading her name on the screen now made her hurt
.
There was an elephant on her chest
and s
he could feel the
flight
response
rising in her
joints
.
E
ars burned red
, arms like deadweight
. Her throat was thick and
dry
.
She stared for
several
minutes
at
that single line
.
She was terrified and excited, balancing
on a
razor
-
thin
edge, afraid to leave the page, but
also
too afraid to open the message and see more
.

 

“No.
I am NOT a
chickenshit
!”

 

She lifted her hand to the mouse, hover
ed
over the message,
and clicked.
 

Heya Gabbsalot!  What’s going on?  Yes, this is
UR
big bro
.
I know it sounds crazy, but believe me, this is me
. . .
coming
2 U
from the great beyond
.
Things
R
great here, but I do miss
U
and Mom and Dad and
football
and school
and all that
.
Now that I am here, on th
e other side
that is, all of the things that were important
2
me
have
suddenly
become
kinda mundane
.
No, that’s not right
.
Not mundane,
but
. . .
much less important
.
Don’t get me wrong
. . .
I’d love
2
toss the pigskin around
4
old time

s sake, but none of those things drive me anymore
.
I guess
U
could say that along with that body of mine, my soul shed that life
2
.

 

This now is beyond life
.
It is not like anythin
g U could imagine
.
I don’t have a way
2
communicate
it 2 U
across the distance
.
It

s kinda like my eyes and ears were always only half open down there or over there or wherever
U R
compared
2
me.
; )
I can still see and
h
ear and touch things, but in a better
way
.
Colors
R
brighter, sounds
R
more
crisp and louder, but not in a bad
way.

 

Anyways,
nuff
bout me
.
Look, Gabbs, I
C
what’s going on
witchu
and I
h8
it
.
We
R
so worried about
UR
well-bein, but
U
gotta
B
strong,
4
everyone
.
U gotta show them the way!
All of us
R
watching, listening &  praying 4 U.
I know it’s tough
2
think so now, but stuff will get better
.
U
got all this great st
uff going 4 U
.
Going
2
college and
checking out all the big college studs, all kind
s
of madness
abounds
.
I know
UR
hurtin’ sis
.
It hurts me
2
that we won’t
B
able
2
hang out again like we used
2
.
I get it, really I do
.
But
U
have got
2
believe me when I tell
U
that life does go on
.
I want
U 2
try
2
get better
.
Try
2
get back to
UR
life
,
UR
friends and show the rest of the world how unique and beautiful Abigail Nikko is
.
I know it. Mom and Dad know it and
UR
friends know it
.
But the rest of the world hasn’t had the pleasure yet
.
So I want
U
2
get out there and show ‘em what
U
got
.
Be strong and
d
o it
4
me Gabbs, please?

 

So I guess this is goodbye
4
now.
L8rs!

 

Love,

Zack

 

“Oh my God
.”

 

She closed her laptop and stood up from her desk. She walked to the bed and sat on the edge
.
Abby
wept.

BOOK: On Tenterhooks
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