Sherry Ficklin - Losing Logan

“That sounds like Logan.”

“Yeah, and look where it got me,” he mutters.

Kyle looks away, his face faltering around the edges.

“You really miss him, huh?” I ask, reaching across the table to take his hand.

He nods, turning back to me.

“You know, I think Logan sent you to me.”

I feel myself twitch just a little, drawing my hand away.

“Why do you say that?”

“Yeah, why does he say that?” Logan interjects.

Kyle shakes his head. “It sounds crazy when I say it out loud.”

I sit back in my chair, wringing my cloth napkin in my lap.

“It’s not crazy. I feel Logan around me all the time,” I admit softly. “Like he’s still here.”

Kyle tips his head to the side, looking at me with a gentle expression.

“When my dad died, I used to see him everywhere, all the time. Then after a while, I’d forget he was gone. I’d open my door and expect to see him. It’s the same with Logan. Sometimes I can hear him, making a snide comment or telling me not to do something stupid. Not that I listen,” I say with a half smile.

“Does it ever get better?”

I shake my head. “I kind of learned that if I just push it away, you know, don’t think about it, that I can keep going. I got very good at not feeling it anymore. It didn’t stop hurting, I just sort of stopped letting myself remember to hurt.”

Kyle holds out his hand and I take it. He is warm under my fingertips, warm and strong and alive.

“That day at school, when you smiled at me and said hello, it was like, I don’t know how to explain it. It was like, I’d been in this really dark place. It was so hard just to get out of bed because, I didn’t feel him around anymore. I was just really lonely I think. And then, just when I was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it, there you were. I mean, that day I was planning on leaving the team. I just didn’t think I could face it. And there you were, like this light in the middle of all of the darkness. And it felt like Logan was there, like he knew I needed you so he sent you to me.”

He shakes his head like he feels stupid saying the words. I squeeze his hand.

“I believe that too. Logan wants us to have each other. I know it. I can feel it. Because as much as it hurts sometimes, it hurts less when I’m with you.”

“Zoe,” Logan’s voice is tight.

I can’t look at him, I won’t look at him. Because if I do, I’ll cry. I’ll cry because I understand now why he stopped seeing me. He wasn’t leaving me at all, he was letting me go. And that has to be harder than anything else.

“Zoe, it’s here.”

Those words are enough to make my head jerk up, and sure enough, at the end of the bar The Reaper is standing there staring at me.

I stiffen, not sure what to do. It isn’t moving and I know no one else can see it. But if I go to the bathroom again Kyle will think I have a medical problem. And I can’t ask to leave before the expensive meal even comes. But, what if Logan is right and it does try something, right here. My god, what if I choke on my pasta and die?

I glance over at Kyle, who is still clutching my hand.

It would kill him, I realize. He thinks I’m some kind of miracle, a sign from the universe that everything is going to be okay.

But I’m not. I’m just a horrible person who used him to get close to the others to get the dirt on Kaylee. I swallow the bitter guilt.

“I got this,” Logan says as the waiter approaches with a massive tray of food balanced on one hand.

Closing his eyes I hear him whisper my name before reaching out and slapping the tray, sending the food flying into the air. It lands, covering both Kyle and I with bits of pasta and fish and veggies.

The waiter is mortified. The entire restaurant stares, some people laughing, some clapping. A bunch of the staff rush over with towels. The manager follows quickly, offering not only his deepest apologies, but a free meal.

I just laugh. Kyle laughs with me.

“Its fine,” I offer the poor, distraught waiter who doused me in Alfredo sauce. “Really, I’ll live.”

Kyle seems fine, relieved that I’m not angry or causing any more of a scene. He calmly accepts the meal vouchers and we hurry to his truck, still picking pieces of food out of our hair and belly laughing. He opens my door, pulling a long noodle off the back of my sweater.

“I’m so sorry,” he offers with a wide smile.

I shrug. “No big deal. You aren’t the one who dumped a tray of food on me. And besides,” I pick a chunk of salmon off the top of his head, “you got it just as bad as I did.”

“So, does this mean the date’s over?”

I bite my bottom lip, an idea hitting me out of nowhere. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Zoe,” Logan warns, his voice stern.

“I have an idea. It’s a little stupid, very risky, and mildly illegal. What do you think?” I ask, my hands resting on his chest.

“I think I’m in.”

I climb in the truck, whispering to Logan as Kyle rounds the cab to the other side.

“Logan, go back to my house. Keep an eye on my mom.”

“What are you going to do?” he demands, but Kyle is already in the truck. With a huff Logan vanishes, leaving me alone in the dark truck with my poor, fish covered boyfriend. He puts the key in and revs the engine.

“Where to?”

“You know how to get to the caverns?”

He nods and we speed off. The caverns are a pretty popular tourist spot on the outskirts of town. And they are full of the one thing my hooded friend can’t handle. Iron.

The parking lot is locked, no surprise there. The caverns are closed in early September for the year, mostly because they are so far underground that the temperatures barely get above freezing in the heat of summer. Once the weather cools, the caves become a frozen tomb for anyone stupid enough to venture in. Kyle follows me as we hike around back, picking up a barely noticeable trail from the rear of the main building. The Parks Department built a shop and tour headquarters right over the entrance to the caverns, making it impossible to get in when the building itself is closed.

Unless you know the back entrance.

Its pitch black and only the light from my phone illuminates the path. Still, Kyle follows me without question or hesitation. At one point, I look up, trying to get my bearings. Then I see it. A small hill juts out into the middle of a clearing. It looks like it’s a giant rock in the hillside, but I know better. As Kyle follows me I turn, pointing to the south face and the tight crack splitting the rock in two.

“There. That’s the way in.”

Squeezing through the crack I find myself in a hollow stone chamber. The walls are damp inside, and the sound of trickling water is far off, but echoes around us. Once Kyle is inside I grab the old lantern I’d left there after my last visit, still right where I’d tucked it away, and I bring it to beautiful light.

“Whoa,” he says, looking at the walls around us.

“Most of the caves in this area are limestone, but you see the red streaks down the walls? That’s iron.”

“It looks like paintings in the stone.”

The patterns are amazing, but that’s not the only reason I brought him here. The air in the cavern is cold, easily ten degrees colder than outside. I jerk my head for him to follow me down the narrow tunnel and around the corner. When we spill out into the next chamber, it’s raining inside. Well, not raining exactly.

“See that?” I point to a pool of water only a few feet in front of us.

“It’s a natural spring. A hot spring actually.”

“What’s that smell?”

“Sulfur. From the water. But it’s not bad.”