Dying to Return (The Station #3) Page 13

  With two backward steps of his tall legs, he is sucked into the portal and the hole closes up around him, leaving me alone in the room with four white walls again. My friend has only just left, and already I begin to count the moments I can see him again. Knowing in my beating heart that time will not be kind to us, I force a smile anyway. Love isn’t meant to be easy, even after you die.

  ***

  Sloan is behind the desk, a stack of papers to his left twice as tall as the pile on his right. I feel the stamping he gives each sheet like a vibration through the room. He’s completely engrossed in his job, so much so that he doesn’t notice me approaching until I’m standing in front of him. When he does see me, he lowers the stamper a bit slower, pressing it onto the paper before moving to the next form. Though I shouldn’t, I sit down in front of him so we face each other, on the same level.

  “I came to apologize,” I say softly.

  He pauses, placing both arms down on the counter, stamper still grasped tightly in one fist. “I’m pretty sure that’s my job.”

  “Can we start over? Can I explain some things?” I ask.

  “It’s not an explanation I need, Piper,” he sighs.

  I frown, and fight with the brat inside me that wants to snoop through his thoughts. “I don’t know what you mean,” I admit.

  “I don’t care about the whys. I just care about you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well…and us. Yeah, I kind of panicked when you got back. I guess it was foolish of me to think you’d return the same way you left. I mean, that was the point, right? That you’d go away to learn and come back new?”

  “New?” I laugh. New is not the word I’d choose. “I’m still me. Just an updated version.”

  Sloan drops the stamper and tells the woman walking behind him that he’ll be back in a minute. I follow him out into the hallway, into a room with a bench that takes up the back wall. It seems every time I walk into a door here, I discover a new room.

  “Look, Piper,” he takes my hand in his and leans forward, bending his knee so he can sit on the bench facing me. “Nothing about my feelings for you has changed. Nothing. I just hate the idea of you not feeling the same. All I need to know is that there is hope for us. The rest will fall into place when the time is right.”

  I nod. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about another. In a way I can’t explain. You need to know that.” I take a deep breath, knowing what I say next will change my relationship with Sloan. Forever. “I know this might sound ridiculous, but I need to find peace with myself on my own. Not attached to you. Or to Rush. I need to know that I can do my job here whatever it ends up being,” I wave around us, “And that I can do it well. For me. Not for anyone else. But to make me happy.”

  Sloan watches me as I talk, holding my hand quietly. “You need to stand on your own two feet, as they say?”

  “Yes. Right now I feel like I’m balancing on just one and that’s not fair to anyone, especially you.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Sloan, I want you to be a part of my life. But I want us to do it right, not because we were forced together in some bizarre series of events.”

  “That’s a relief to hear,” he laughs.

  “So can I ask you a question?”

  He peers at me, tossing a chunk of black waves out of his eyes. “Depends. If you’re leaving again, I won’t survive behind that desk for much longer.”

  I laugh, sure that I’m not going anywhere any time soon. After breathing in the smell of tangy citrus, I rub the end of my finger along the side of his jeans.

  “Will you go out on a date with me?”

  CHAPTER 15

  “I feel like we should have a going away party or something,” Mallory says.

  “I know, right?” I laugh.

  Kerry-Anne stands on my other side, her arm linked with mine, holding her young boyfriend’s hand in hers. She whispers something to him, and he kisses her quickly on the cheek before waving at the rest of us and taking off.

  “He’s not coming in?” I ask.

  “No, this is for family, don’t you think?” Kerry-Anne answers.

  Family. Yes, I guess she’s right. “Still, Will can come if you want him to.”

  “It’s okay. I want don’t want to cry in front of him.”

  I squeeze her arm, and she squeezes back.

  “What I don’t get is why this whole place isn’t going. I mean, Edith has been here for a really long time. And Niles, I mean, who doesn’t love him?”

  “You heard them. They didn’t want a big spectacle of this,” I sigh.

  Sloan speaks behind us, “Carlson will be here, and someone else, a friend of Edith’s, I think.”

  “Good, at least that’s something,” Mallory mutters.

  The door in front of us opens with a swish and I jump. Edith laughs when she sees the four of us waiting in the hall. “Dear, I didn’t think we’d have such a send-off. Piper, can we speak to you privately for a moment?”

  Awkwardly, I let go of Kerry-Anne and smile sheepishly at Mallory while she rolls her eyes at Edith’s back in mocked impatience. Chewing on my lip to keep from laughing, I follow Edith into the room and am surprised to see the other mentors sitting inside with Niles.

  They all stand when we come in and I hug Niles before nodding at the others. I realize then that I’ve never been personally introduced to the third mentor by name. Both of the male mentors are older. The one that I know, Hector, wears army fatigues and his dark hair is cut short. Just a hint of grey was beginning to pepper it before he died. Judging by his former military attire, I don’t need to waft through his memories to guess how he ended his life.

  The other mentor, a man of about the same age, wears his flannel pajamas. I’ve seen him walking around the Station before, yet he doesn’t stand out as an authority figure. He’s quiet and reserved and seems to take an interest in watching the people around him. I’m blinking at the absurdly loud red and blue pattern of the squares on his pants when he extends a hand to me.

  “The name’s Leif. It’s nice to see you again, Piper.” He has sandy hair, also peppered with greys, and very tan skin with deep wrinkles set around his eyes. Whatever life he lived, he spent a great deal of time outdoors. I have no idea how old he is just by looking at him, so I sneak into his mind for a second. Long enough to come up with the word ‘cancer’. He ended his life before the illness could. Many people in the Station have done the same thing.

  “Very nice to officially meet you, Leif.”

  “Piper, the other Mentors are here because as you know,” Edith lets out a ragged breath and clears her throat, “Niles and I will be moving on soon.”

  I nod that I understand. At least that they are leaving. I’m not exactly sure why they need to speak to me privately about it. The others already know.

  “Can you sit, Piper?” Niles pats an empty space beside him, and I look around the room remembering my first time here. I can almost see Rush lounging on one side of the recessed bench, and myself sitting opposite, truly terrified of him. I blink the memory away and sit down next to my Intake Specialist on the cold floor.

  “We have all made a unanimous decision,” Edith begins, and the others nod.

  “Are you staying?” Of course I know the answer before they give it.

  “No,” Niles pauses to pat my hand, “We have a proposition for you.”

  “If you need a janitor, I don’t want the job,” I joke.

  Everyone laughs, and the mood lightens. “We don’t need a janitor, Piper.” Niles looks around the room and gets nods to continue from the others. “What the Station needs is a new Mentor.”

  ***

  I slowly walk down the hallway with Edith on one side, Niles on the other. I’m taking the couple to a depot room I’ve never been in. They’ve allowed me to accompany them, for two reasons. The first being - I’m now a Mentor and have the right to go anywhere in the Station I want, even though I haven’t had
my Mentor Training yet. The other reason is that I’m the only person here that has been beyond and returned. They’ve said their goodbyes to the others. And they have patiently allowed me to ask a slew of questions about being a good Mentor. It’s time.

  Very similar to the Ones department, a small room is at the end of the hall and inside waits a short male Specialist. A solitary door, just as white and milky as the rest of the room beckons from the far side of the space. It’s closed, yet the silver handle teases me to turn it so I can take a quick peek at what is on the other side.

  “Niles, Edith,” the man nods respectfully, “I trust you have your paperwork in order?”

  I watch as both of them hand the man a small slip of paper that he quickly drops into a silver box. And then he hugs them. With a nod, and without even questioning me, he leaves the room.

  “Can you do this dear?” Niles asks me.

  “Yes, I can. I don’t want to, but I can.” I hug them both and Edith steps toward the door with her back to me, her shoulders squared, her head held high. She is ready for the next journey.

  Niles taps his temple twice and smiles. I allow a whisper of myself inside him, hoping he has invited the intrusion.

  Piper Willow, I am so proud of you.

  My chest heaves, threatening to unleash a volatile fit of sobs.

  I’m so grateful you were my Intake Specialist. I wouldn’t be here without your guidance.

  If I’d had a daughter like you, I would never have left my life the way I did. You know you’re a special young lady, but it’s not because of this. He taps his temple again. It’s because of what you have in here. With a warm hand, he rests his palm above my heart and I can no longer hold back the tears.

  I hug him to me so tightly the air in my lungs is trapped. This is not like my other goodbyes. This is final. I will never see Niles again or his argyle sweater vest and scuffed brown loafers. His beyond is surely different from my own. I just hope that when my time comes, if I need a guide to show me on my way, he’ll be on the other side of my door, waiting.

  “You’ve been like my father here. What am I going to do without you?” I cry into his shoulder.

  He doesn’t answer, just hugs me tighter before letting go. When he steps back, he reaches for Edith’s hand and she turns to smile at me. “It’s time,” she says quietly.

  I step around them and touch the handle. Energy from the other side warms the metal but this time I have unspoken permission to open the door. And when I do, it’s not only the light of the portal for Niles and Edith that I see.

  What lies on the other side for them is a beauty words can’t explain, and this time I cry because I know they will be happy in the next world. I know what the beyond is now and there’s no need to be afraid of it.

  ***

  The cool thing about being a Seer and a Mentor is that there’s absolutely no doubt in what I do. Every choice I’ve made since Niles and Edith left has been my own, and if I have a question, I simply answer it by picking up on mental hints from Hector and Leif. They don’t mind, in fact, they’ve given me permission to use my abilities as needed. But keeping my wall up is still a rule of my own making. We oversee the Station and all its occupants, plus now I know how things work and where the paper comes from.

  I think about Rush every now and then, and know one day will be our time, but that time is not now. Sloan and I have been on several ‘dates’ which basically consists of a lot of talking and walking around the Station. Our friendship is a real one now, built on trust and honesty and appreciation for each other. When I’m not learning more about him and his dreams, or working at making sure the Station runs smoothly, I’m in the Ones department, helping the children there before they move on. Because of my unique way of seeing pain, they flock to me. Some want hugs, some need a shoulder to cry on, and more times than not, I’m the one that walks with them down the last Station hallway they will see to open the door into a new life.

  And that’s what I’ve learned the Station really is. I had it backwards when I first arrived here. This was a place the dead went to. The place the selfish came to ask for forgiveness or beg for a reprieve from the pain. I thought this place was where the guilty could wallow in their life-altering choices. That isn’t what the Station is. It’s the place that moves us from one way of living to another. That’s all.

  And that’s enough.

  Because each of us have more to give and there’s plenty out there for us to see…even after we die.

  The End of One Thing

  is only

  The Beginning of Another

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are many people that have helped make this book and The Station Series possible. But before I get into the ‘thanks’ part I have to remind the Station readers of one very important thing: this book is a work of Fiction. Piper’s story and those of her friends are purely fictional. Her story is not meant to glorify suicide in any way, or imply that suicide is a viable option. My intent is not for readers to think suicide will transport someone into a better place, but to give hope that even after death, one can redeem themself and find peace. If you, or anyone you know, has suicidal thoughts, please reach out to a friend or family member and call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK or go online to www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org and seek help immediately.

  A big HUG and THANKS must go out to my readers and TMD Fans and Ink Slingers Street Crew. Without you, I’ve no idea where I’d be. You have made this series into a world of its own! Thank you for your ongoing support and interest. YOU ALL ROCK!

  Kristie, Miranda, Tara, Caroline and Lindsay – each of you create a piece of my Muse. Fact.

  Thank you to my editor, Liana Mark for making this book all it can be. Deb Rogers – my friend and awesome book cover designer – you know you are amazing and I love you; thanks for everything. To my Beta Readers: Cat Alley, Jessica Bailiff, (. . .) thank you for your time and input. A special thanks to all my friends and family who are still reading my books and asking about them – thank you for your interest and support.

  Finally, a heart-felt thanks to my husband and children. Without your patience, writing would be a huge struggle for me. I appreciate the time you allow me to research, write, edit and format more than you know. I love each of you and know I’m lucky to be on this journey with you by my side.

  ABOUT the AUTHOR

  Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She's been writing short stories and poetry since high school and began her first book, 'I Hope You Find Me' in December of 2011.

  When Trish isn't writing, she's homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly Autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights and dashes into the backyard weekly to rescue lizards and mice from Zoey, the dog and toilet paper rolls from Bear, the puppy.

  TRISH's BOOKS and COLLABORATIONS

  FIND ME Series

  I Hope You Find Me

  Lost and Found

  THE STATION Series

  Dying to Forget

  Dying to Remember

  Dying to Return

  SHORT STORIES

  The Well Collector

  ANTHOLOGIES

  Hawke and the Beast (Once Upon A Twisted Time Via Moon Rose Publishing)

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  Trish's Blog: http://writertrishmdawson.wordpress.com

  Trish's work can be found online as well as in print on createspace.com.

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