Amy & Roger's Epic Detour
“I’m coming right down,” I called back, and he nodded. I pulled my head back into the room and looked at my brother. “How long are you here?” I asked. “I mean, when do you get to leave?” I hadn’t realized until I saw this old version of him, one I hadn’t seen in a very long time, how much I’d missed my brother. But it was hitting me now, when I was leaving him again.
“Another month,” he said. He gave me a small smile. “Not so long.”
“Amy,” Roger called from out the window, a little louder this time, just as the chime sounded again. Charlie and I looked to the intercom.
The soothing voice, sounding a little less calm this time, announced, “The prelunch session has now begun. Please conduct yourself as quickly as possible to your designated activity, if you have not already done so.”
“Okay,” I said. Charlie nodded, and we looked at each other. My brother and I were not huggers. I couldn’t actually remember the last time we’d hugged. But I wasn’t about to shake hands with him. I started to wave when Charlie reached out and hugged me hard. I hugged him back, and it felt exactly right—and something we should have done a while ago.
“Thanks for coming,” he mumbled into my shoulder. I nodded, and we separated. “You should talk to Mom,” he said. “I’ve been getting her e-mails, and she’s worried about you. I think she’s kind of lost without you.”
I stared at him. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “She’s not lost without me. She left me for a month and barely—”
“Amy,” Roger called again.
“Talk to her,” Charlie said. “But good for you for doing all this. I’d have barely recognized you.”
“In a good way?” I asked.
“In a good way,” he said. He smiled, then looked at the window. “Need a hand?”
“I think I might,” I said. Holding on to the sill, my arms stretching over it, I swung a leg outside it, and saw Roger waiting down below, reaching for me. I took a breath and swung my other leg over. I looked down, and suddenly Roger and the ground seemed very far away. “Um,” I said. “I’m not sure …”
“You have to extend your arms,” Charlie said. “Give me your hand.” I looked up at him, and he nodded. “It’s okay.” I unhooked my arm from around the sill, and Charlie took my hand. He placed it on the edge of the sill, and then helped me do it with the other hand. I extended my arms, and was hanging there in space. I felt someone grab my foot, and I knew Roger was there.
“Just drop,” he called. “I’ve got you.”
I looked up at my brother, who was looking right at me. “You have to let go,” Charlie said. “It’s okay.”
“Take care, okay?” I asked. He nodded, and I smiled at him. Then I let go of the sill and dropped straight down, landing on something soft—Roger. “Sorry,” I gasped, rolling off of him and standing up, brushing myself off. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, taking the hand that I extended to help him up. “But I think we have to get out of here, like, now.” He started speed-walking toward the car, still holding on to my hand, pulling me along behind him.
“Why’s that?” I asked as I struggled to keep up.
“I think there’s a possibility that we may have attracted some attention,” he said. “I was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but that’s hard to do when you’re talking to a window. People kept walking by and looking at me.”
We hustled toward the car, and sure enough, I noticed a lot more white-scrubs-clad people hanging around the entrance than had been there before. And I noticed that now they were all carrying walkie-talkies. “Let’s just make it to the car,” I mumbled under my breath, and Roger squeezed my hand once in answer.
“Excuse me,” a voice behind us said. We turned to see Courtney walking toward us. “I have to speak with you two.”
Roger and I looked at each other and then, without discussing anything, still holding hands, we both bolted for the car, running flat out. “Keys?” I asked him breathlessly as we crossed the parking lot.
“Yeah,” he gasped. I turned and noticed that Courtney was also jogging toward us. We reached the car, Roger beeped it open, and we threw ourselves inside. He started it and backed up with record speed, and we peeled out of the parking lot.
Roger didn’t slow down until we’d been driving for five minutes and it became clear that Promises Kept wasn’t sending someone after us to give chase. “Close one,” he said, and I watched as the speedometer dropped to his normal non-interstate speed.
I stared out the window at the other cars rushing by, trying to sort out what I was feeling. I had been trying with everything I had to avoid thinking about that morning, trying not to play the memory out to its conclusion. But seeing Charlie, and talking about it …
“You okay?” I could hear Roger ask from a place that sounded very far away.
I nodded, but turned more toward my window, and closed my eyes. But it wasn’t going away this time. It was like I no longer had the strength anymore to hold this back.
“Amy?” I opened my eyes and saw Roger looking over at me, worried. “Are you okay?”
I started to nod, but gave it up halfway through, and shook my head. “I just …,” I started to say, and heard my voice crack. “I’m not okay,” I said. He looked over at me and turned down the music. I could feel the memories of that morning swelling behind me. I knew Roger wouldn’t look at me the same way once he knew the truth. But I was tired of fighting to hold it back.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, looking at me, then back at the road.
“The Elvis thing,” I started. “Why I didn’t want to hear it.”
“Because of your father,” Roger said. “Right?”
I nodded. “We were listening to Elvis in the car,” I said. “I mean, we were always listening to Elvis in the car. But we were listening to him when it happened.” I swallowed hard and forced the word out. “The accident.”
“Oh,” he said softly. It was like this wasn’t even a word. It felt more like he was laying out a stone for me to step on, so that I could keep going.