First impression

Dylan might create a bad impression of Raven to his friend, Tom

Chapter 2

After that, I find myself drop by the shop quite regularly, whether it is to share small talk with Raven or to just stay around waiting for the message that I suppose to ask Raven to keep it, till the receiver arrive. Either way, it is to pass the time I have, which is endless. Today is no different. I walk through the glass door with ease, but stand there in silent as I see Raven dealing with another customer. Another memory being bought, I still can’t stop the sickness in my stomach when ever I thinking about the fact that this are people memories that being sold, bought, traded like goods. I look at the customer, he’s a middle age man, brown hair, a bit overweight and he’s not very tall. The trench coat isn’t really helping with the man’s figure. I shake my head and sigh when the man walks pass me. If he could hear me, I would definitely yell: “Loose the trench coat, mate”. I wait till the man leaves the shop before saying anything to Raven. Nothing related to the ‘why I haven’t got any message’ just casual talk, like two normal adults, except one of the two is dead:

“G’day”

“Morning, Dylan” Raven replies, with her usual cheerfulness.

And that about it. Our casual talk. Fine, I admit it. It’s not much of a casual talk since there isn’t much to talk about. I mean I’m dead. Beside that, I can’t think about what to say to her. Maybe the weather? Which always deliver the conversation to an abrupt end or awkward silent. Not that right now isn’t awkward. Great, now she’s staring at me waiting for me to say something. Think, Dylan thinks. It’s not that hard, think. Anything. Cat, TV show, Movie.

“How your week been?” You just saw her yesterday, real smooth Dylan.

“Well, nothing exciting, business as usual but of course you already know that” She winks at him, I swear if there is still blood pumping in my vein, then I’m probably be blushing hard by now.

“Okay, any plan later on?”

“I’m meeting up with my friends today” She shrugs lazily while rearranging her bookshelf. I look at her like I got problem with hearing. She always struck me as loner, it’s a bit rude to say it because think about it if you are able to see a deceased person’s memory through an object and you can talk to ghosts wouldn’t it make you a bit creepy? I’m sure she sees the looks on my face. The puzzled look. She gives me a look that I’m sure it’s say ‘Seriously?’. I look back at her, almost like we can communicate through our minds ‘Well, what do you think’ I say back.

“I have friend. Normal, mortal, whichever end with a ‘al’ kind of friends Dylan”

“Local?” I add, jokingly.

“They do live here in Sydney” She taps her hand on her chin, recalling the home address of her friends.

She always able to fire back what ever thing I say back to her with either sarcasm laced in all the word or fill with endless enthusiastic. I wonder if she was always like this when she was younger? What kind of friend does she have? Is this just friends or one of them is more than a friend?

And once again, I fall into a sea of questions. I don’t know anything about Raven beside her name, she can see and touch ghosts, and she own a store where she sell people’s memories. All of sudden, the curiosity in me rises, I want to know more about her. I ask her when will she be meeting her friends, which she replies ‘afternoon’ and ask me back why did I want to know. I scratch my neck, embarrass. ‘Just curious’ I say and we fall into silent again. It’s not entirely awkward but it’s not comfortable either. I look around at every single object after what happen with Lily’s wooden owl, Raven has forbid me to touch any of the objects. Which I don’t mind at all. Prying to other people memories are never on my to-do-list and they won’t be on there anytime soon. But those objects are the only thing I can touch, I can hold, that actually make me feel like I’m a human again. Other stuff just goes right through me. So even if I want to help Raven with her store, it’s completely impossible. I look back at Raven, who focusing on her work or at least trying to focus on her work in this awkward atmosphere. I need to break this silent so all of sudden I blurt out:

“How old are you?”

“Twenty” She looks at me skeptically, like I suppose to know it. How am I supposed to know how old she is? Maybe it’s not that look. Maybe it’s the look. The look of it’s rude to ask a woman about their age. Which I just did. Well done Dylan. A+ for stupidity. I was going to slap my self for my stupidity when she asks me back:

“And you are?”

“Forever twenty-one” And she laughs. I raise my eyebrow at her. I’m pretty sure that I haven’t said anything funny besides telling her the truth. I’m twenty-one when I die and I’m going to stay twenty-one pretty much forever. But at least she laughs, it fill the silent in the room, ease out the awkwardness between us.

“Is that paint on your shirt?”

I see her hand points at my torso. I look down and remember the whole time meeting, knowing, talking to Raven I myself been wearing a bloody t-shirt. ‘Wonderful’ I think to myself. I’m surprise that Raven takes this long to realize that I’m wearing a white t-shirt with red stain, lots of red stain on it. Maybe she knows but never ask until know because there are too many silent between us. I try to smile but I’m sure it comes out forced:

“No, it’s my blood”

“Your blood?” She ask again, I can hear the second question in the tip of her tongue ‘How did you die to manage to have that much of blood on your shirt?’

“Got hit by a truck” I quickly reply to her question even the yet to be asked one.

“Ouch” She says, I can feel the empathy in her voice.

“You don’t say” I roll my eyes, even though if you ask me, it all happened too fast, I didn’t even feel anything.

I watch Raven goes back to her work, watch her cleans a small wooden treasure chest with care. Swiping all the dust off the chest. After cleaning them with the cloth, she dips the cloth in her mouth then gently scrubs the chest leaving it shiny afterward. She suddenly looks up at me, realize that I’m watching her, quickly I advert my glaze to the window. When I look back and Raven’s smiling at me. I feel the corner of my mouth lift up smiling back at her. A few days ago, there were just Tom and I and now there’s Raven. Oh god, Tom. I completely forget about Tom. I have to tell Tom about Raven.

“I gotta go. There somebody I want you to meet” I say, quickly. I have no idea where Tom is and Raven isn’t going to be in the shop all day. I have to find the guy.

“Dead or Alive?” She asks me back.

“Definitely Dead”

Before Raven can say I anything, I run through the door down the street. I’m sure she’s trying to say something to me. But that have to wait. She can tell me all about it later when I got Tom with me. I run down the intersection of George Street and Market Street, the bus run straight through me. I know I’m dead, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel offended with that rude action. The walking sign is clearly on. I yell after the bus driver knowing very well that he won’t be able to hear me:

“A*****e, you should be glad that I’m dead.”

I keep running down the street, I go to the cemetery first. Tom isn’t there. I crunch my eyebrow, where is he? Tapping my foot on the ground, biting my lips, I try to think of the places that Tom can be. The cinema, Tom always enjoys a good movie. His usual cinema is in other side of the city. F*****g perfect. Good thing about being dead, my body is not affected by the gravity. When I get to the cinema, still no sign of Tom. Where the hell is he? I sigh in frustration. There is probably one more place, Tom you better be there. I run down the street again because I don’t need to stop to take a breath I got to the record shop in like 10 minutes. If only I could do this when I’m alive, I would be the best track runner in Sydney. I walk inside the shop and see Tom standing there, staring at the old vinyl on the shelf. I call out his name, when the guy turn around, there’s a hint of sadness clouding all over his eyes. I walk closer to Tom, when I do he turn his attention back to the vinyl. I follow his gaze, he’s looking at the 1972, Exile on Main St by The Rolling Stones. I have to give it to Tom. He might look like a drug addict, most of the time, but the man has good taste in music. I hear Tom sighs:

“I should have bought that record when I had a chance, you know”

“When you have a chance, you don’t have any money Tom” I reply bluntly, look over the older man who is crackling like I just told him the funniest joke.

“Yea, wish I had though”

I nod in agreement. If I know I’m going to die, I would have actually bothered to finish my painting. At least I would have something to leave behind.

“S**t, Raven” I say, when I suddenly realize that I have totally forget the reason why I go looking for Tom in the first place. Tom turns around and gives me a blank look. Which I brush right off by grabbing his wrist pulling him out of the shop.

“Where are we going?” He asks after pulling his wrist back and now running after me.

“To see Raven. The girl I told you about”

“So, she actually in the same cemetery with us?” Tom’s voice is filled with annoyance and a little bit disappointment. He seems to think that I’m still obsessed about Raven.

“Nope, she’s human. Alive and breathing. She can see us” I shake my head, watch Tom’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth slightly opens, I try my best not to burst out laughing.

“You’re joking”

“Follow me then and we’ll see if I’m joking or not” I smirk at him and begin sprinting toward Raven’s shop with Tom running behind me.

We arrive at the shop and much to my anticipation, there is a ‘closed’ sign in front of the shop. Raven is off to see her friends today. I look over to Tom to see his questioning glare. The man taps his foot on to the ground waiting for my explanation.

“She went to see her friends today”

Tom doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t make me feel any better. I know he doubts me.

“Well, we’ll still have tomorrow and the day after that, and days after that” Tom finally says.

My face immediately lit up.

“You don’t think I’m lying?”

“I doubt you alright. But you look too distress to be lying, so we will have to wait and see”

I let out a grin when the man turn around and put his hand around my shoulder dragging me with him down the street. Tom waves his hand around talking about a café down the street, which to Tom play good jazz music. Jazz is never really my taste, but maybe it’s Raven’s. Which make me chuckle dryly. A dead guy asking a breathing chick out on a date, what could possibly be wrong with that?

The café is actually not too bad. I have been here before, never really stayed. Like I just said, Jazz is never my kind of thing. But this time I stay. I stay with Tom listen to the Jazz playing while giving the man a look. Even if the guy is English but he struck me more like French minus the accent. He knows all about the French culture, French’s food, even the history of the bloody Eiffel tower. I think if the guy could pick his place to die, it would be Paris. I look at Tom, who has laid back comfortably at the empty corner of the couch, his eyes closes slightly listening to the rhythm. It’s actually not hard picturing him dancing to it though. I silent laughed, when the picture of Tom, tall and skinny, move his legs to the rhythm of the blues. Tom might actually be a good dancer. Like he just read my minds, Tom chuckles:

“I actually not a bad dancer, you know”

“Stay away from my mind, Tom” I fake a threat while the man just laugh louder, after a second or two, I join him.

“Say, Dylan. You and this young lady...”

“Raven” I quickly add. He nods.

“Yes, Raven, is she the reason why you been disappearing these few day”

I nod. Obviously I can’t blush otherwise my ears would be red.

“I’m not saying that I truly believe you about the fact that she can see you or anything like that, it’s about you”

“Me?” I look at him, confuse.

“You are attracted to her, more or less”

“Of course I’m attracted to her. She can see us and do a lot more” I roll my eyes.

“and you like her?” Tom says calmly and that struck me silent. I shake my head anyway.

“No, It’s more of a curiosity” I explain, not really believing myself.

“I hope, that’s about it” Tom nods, but I know the guy don’t really believe me. But I know what he means if I like her.

I quickly change the topic. I tell him about the memories objects, how people actually move on after they leave behind an object as their last farewell. Tom listens attentively; he nods at the explanation that I have given him. Though I’m sure he not really believes me. I don’t blame the guy, if I hadn’t been there and saw everything, I would laugh at the story I just told. Tom grimaces when I tell him about the shop, about the fact that she sells people memories. A slight of disgust trails through his face, he shakes his head in disagreement:

“So you’re telling me. She sells people memories for a living? That’s just sick”

I don’t reply. Part of me agrees with him. While other itches hearing him calling Raven sick.

“If what you telling me are true, the next time we meet I’ll show her a piece of my mind. Selling other people memories, don’t she have any moral?”

“She has her reason” I defend weakly; I don’t really like listening to Tom insulting Raven before he meets her like that.

“Then, I’d love to hear it” Tom mocks, emphasize on the word ‘love’

I sigh; I may have given Tom a bad first impression of Raven before he even meet her. I just hope he won’t do anything reckless. Which I doubt he can. I look at Tom when the man diverts his attention back to the music.

I remember when we first met. Tom’s a straightforward guy. He pretty much tells me his whole life story right on the first day. Tom was born in Nottingham, England. Unlike me, Tom was an only child. His father and mother were regular pharmacists. That’s how Tom knew about drug and how to create them. He never liked school, like most teenager when they were young, Tom always wanted to do something related to music. Which explained why he had good taste music. He dropped out of university because studying bored him, like he said, and went on a road trip ever since. If he needed money, he works or sell drug. How he ended on the ally, died of an overdose or how he became a drug addict he never told me. It wasn’t my place to ask so I never did.

Both of us stay till the last song, before heading back to our grave. Tom calls it home now. But I still have difficulties grasping the fact that a small, rectangle piece of rock, carved with my name on it is my home. My whole mind still acknowledges the home I have, is the home where I share it with my parents and my little sis. I looked at tombstone before sit down next to it. We don’t sleep. We don’t need to. But yet we still stay silent. Maybe part of us still unconsciously acts like human or maybe our subconsciously desperately refuse to believe that we’re dead. I close my eyes, feel my brain races back to the time I had before I’m dead.

Dylan, Dylan, Wake up.

I felt myself being shaken roughly, that I had to open my eye instantly to stop who ever or what ever was doing that. And that was my sister. Amelia. I looked at Amelia, annoyance written in my face or like she always said, on my forehead.

What do you want now? I muttered.

Mum told me to tell you that there are letter for you from Stanford.

I jumped off my bed with the speed equivalent to lightning and before I even knew it I was in the kitchen. Looking at the white envelope with my name on it. My hand shook trying to open it. Shakily I pulled out the recognition of the university. My eyes closed. I still wouldn’t dare to look at it. Even if I have successfully pull out the paper. Amelia came down after me, look at the letter, and being a sweet ‘sister’ like she always was, she read it out loud not caring about my anxious.

Dear mr. Dylan Hudson, we please to have you known that you are accepted to Stanford University…

I didn’t let her finish it and brought the paper closer to my eyes. Reading the word out myself. I. Got. Accepted. I raised my fist high into the air shouting with joy. I smooth the paper out and held it tightly to my chest, like if I loose it I might loose everything. Mum walked in right at that moment, I looked at her showed the paper, before she could finish reading I pulled her in for a tight hug, jumped with joy.

I got accepted into Stanford mum. I got accepted.

Oh my gosh, Dyl. I’m so proud of you. We are celebrating tonight.

My mum hugged me back, her eyes filled with happiness. I was excited, I couldn’t wait till Dad get home so I could tell him. In fact, I want to run down the street yelled it out on top of my lung, “I GOT ACCEPTED INTO STANFORD”. But I didn’t. I was going to call all my friends, tell them about it when I noticed the silent in mum. I looked at her, worriedly:

Mum, are you okay?

I’m fine. I’m happy for you.

You don’t sound so happy, are you sure you are okay? I asked again.

I’m fine, it’s just I realize how far you are going to be.

Oh mum, I’ll be home. Every holiday, we have Skype now mum. You can see me anytime you want, well not every time because I also have to be in class. But you know what I’m saying. I said, trying to lighten the mood up.

Mum smiled. I smiled. That was until Amelia butted in:

Does that mean I’m getting your room all to myself?

And all three of us burst out laughing.

I open my eyes. The memory was as sharped as a knife plunges through me. As if three years ago were only yesterday. I was supposed to be in my third year of university now. I guess all of the graduating idea with those funny hats and oversize robes is nothing more than a pointless dream now. That day, when I got accepted to into university, is probably the best day of my life. I look around to find Tom. He’s still sitting there looking at the sun rising. I sit up with him, looking at the sun brings it self into the sky. It’s actually only a split of a second when the sun is truly beautiful. It’s when half on the sun is exposed to our eyes. The slight moment between dawn and sunrise. I stare at the quick twilight passing by, wanting nothing more than a canvas and a paint brush to paint this illumination. I see the look on Tom’s face and I know the man is thinking the same thing. We sit there till the sun rises all the way up to the horizon, signaling to all worker to start their usual working day. A sharp hangover to those out clubbing all night and to those who still alive something that I envy: a brand new day to keep living.

I feel a pat on my back, don’t even need to turn around I know its Tom. The man pretends the stretch like he has been in sitting in a uncomfortable position all night. He claps his hand motioning me to stand up:

“Let go see this girl”

“Her name is Raven, and be nice Tom” I glare at Tom before standing up next to him.

“Yea yea, I’ll be a real gentlemen” Tom winks at me as he answer with his posh British accent.

I sigh with defeat and walk out of the cemetery. We heads straight to the shop. It’s still closed. Tom looks at me:

“So, I guess she’s not here yet?”

“No s**t, Sherlock”

I roll my eyes at him, before he just looks at me and laughs. Moron. I think to myself. We stand there waiting for Raven. About 3 hours later, Tom starts to pace around impatiently. I just sigh, wishing for him to stop because it’s making my head dizzy watching the guy walking back and ford. As if Tom has read my mind again, he stops. Standing in front of me, asks irritatingly:

“Are you sure she’s coming?”

“Relax Tom, the shop open at 9:30 and it’s only about 9-ish now?” I coax the older man, he seem to calm down a little bit but irritation can be felt through his strong tap on the floor.

I tear my glaze from Tom and back to the street at the bus stop. My mouth curves up into a smile when I see the bus stop, and walk down from the bus is the familiar blue head.

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