I conjure Leona, Emily.
   Move my feet closer. Closer.
   There’s Grandma One, Grandma
   Two, and their spouses, waiting
   for me. I see Dad. Cara. Mommy.
   I screw up my courage, step over.
   Tony
   Raven Screams
   Conner, no! Mary,
   holy mother of God.
   And then she runs.
   Conner? What happened
   to Conner? We follow
   Raven to the cliffs edge.
   One glance over the side
   tells a simple story,
   one I refuse to believe.
   “Quick! Someone belay
   me. I’ll go get him. Call
   911. Maybe there’s still
   time to save him. Will
   somebody please help me?
   I’ve got to get down to him!”
   Raven just stands, two-way
   in hand. Sean’s almost
   up to him. But no one,
   no one could survive
   that fall. Within seconds,
   her radio spits the expected news.
   Guilt balloons inside me,
   shoves me to my knees.
   “Oh God, no. It’s not true!”
   Gentle arms tuck me in.
   Stop, Tony. He’s gone.
   Vanessa’s tear-dampened
   kisses cover my face.
   Oh! can’t believe he’d
   do such a horrible thing.
   “I can. And I could have
   prevented it. It’s all my
   fault, Vanessa. I knew.”
   I push her away, turn
   my head to one side.
   My vomit tastes like death.
   Raven Calls for Rescue
   Care Flight isn’t far
   away, at least not as
   the crow (or ’copter) flies.
   But rather than wait,
   we opt to climb down.
   We have to go past Conner.
   Part of me doesn’t want
   to look. Most of me has
   to. He’s splayed on a big
   boulder. His spirit, or
   whatever was inside,
   is definitely somewhere
   else. All that’s left is his
   broken shell. His eyes
   are open, as if he couldn’t
   let go of the very last
   thing he saw. I wonder
   what it was. Heaven?
   He’s smiling, and one
   hand is extended. Did
   someone come for him,
   take his hand, and walk him
   across that border, into
   the ultimate frontier?
   Some churches say
   suicide denies him
   that comfort. But could
   a true and loving God
   turn His back on such
   a tortured soul? Wouldn’t
   the Ultimate Tribunal
   consider extenuating
   circumstances? Will
   it consider them for me?
   “Please, Father. Please,
   Conner. Forgive me.”
   The “Rescue”
   Isn’t much of a rescue,
   of course. They can
   take their time, and
   they do. We gather
   at the base of the hill,
   watch the crew’s efforts.
   Another time, another
   body, it might be
   interesting, how they
   lower a sled from the top,
   gentle the remains into
   a polyurethane bag, zip …
   But those remains belong
   to my friend. I haven’t
   had many of those. Now
   this one is gone. Forever.
   I should cry, want to cry.
   All I can do is feel ice cold.
   Vanessa and I huddle
   together, searching
   for comfort in each
   other’s touch. “Why
   couldn’t he just talk
   to me, Vanessa?”
   He did talk to you, Tony.
   I think you were the only
   person he could talk to
   at all. In the long run,
   maybe that wasn’t enough.
   But this wasn’t your fault.
   “I knew he’d quit taking
   his meds, knew how
   depressed he seemed.
   I never said a word.
   And that will haunt
   me for the rest of my life.”
   Maybe even longer.
   Vanessa
   Care Flight Lifts Off
   And in its wake, seven
   people seem unable to move,
   stunned into silent shock.
   Finally Sean decides,
   Let’s go back to camp.
   Aspen Springs will send
   transport, but it will take
   a while to get here.
   We walk slowly, trying
   to absorb what has happened.
   Everyone deals with the loss
   in different, personalized ways.
   Sean and Raven discuss
   the possible fallout. I knew
   he was struggling, Sean
   says. But when I talked
   to him, he seemed okay.
   He said he was just tired.
   Did I push him too hard?
   Damn, what a waste!
   Dahlia tells Lori, who agrees,
   That boy was fine.
   Justin just prays.
   Tony holds on to my hand
   like if he let go, I might dash
   over a cliff too. I know he needs
   me more than ever. The responsibility
   is daunting, and I think about
   a kiss from my steel lover,
   knowing I have to find a way
   to leave it far behind me.
   Do you think Conner’s parents
   know yet? asks Tony.
   “I’m sure they must.”
   Do you think they care?
   The Question
   Takes me by surprise.
   “Of course they care.”
   They have to, don’t they?
   “Why would you ask
   such a question?”
   I was just thinking
   about who would care
   if I killed myself. I never
   thought about anyone else
   when I tried before.
   Of course, I didn’t really
   have anyone to think
   about then. Ma was gone,
   not that she would have
   given a fraction of a damn.
   Phillip was gone, and Pa
   was just a memory.
   He stops walking, pulls
   me tight against his chest.
   And I didn’t know you.
   Would you care, really care?
   I reach my arms up around
   his neck, pull his face down,
   lock his eyes with mine.
   “Yes, Tony. I would really care.
   Losing you would kill
   a part of me—the part
   that has learned what
   love really is.”
   And what is that?
   “You.” This time
   when we kiss, I feel
   it in the pit of my stomach,
   I feel it in my heart.
   And I realize love isn’t about sex.
   It’s about connection.
   Camp Feels Empty
   While we wait for transportation
   to carry us out of this place,
   Tony and I take a walk.
   It’s a perfect spring day
   on a hill above the Black Rock
   Desert. “This was an island
   once, you know, when the playa
   was underwater. Can you believe
   all that desert was once a giant lake?”
   Tony stares out at the ocean
   of sage and bitterbrush.
					     					 			br />
   It is hard to believe
   that something that seems
   so permanent was once
   so different. Change.
   I guess that really is one
   thing you can count on….
   He is quiet for several
   minutes. Finally he says,
   I just can’t figure out why.
   I mean, I can understand
   why someone like me
   would think suicide was
   the only way out. But
   Conner had it all—he
   was great looking,
   smart, rich. He had
   everything to live for.
   So, why …
   A breeze blows up,
   touching my cheek
   like a little child’s kiss.
   It flutters a piece of paper,
   lodged in the sage.
   “Trash, out here? Must
   belong to one of us.”
   We move closer,
   and when I reach
   for it, I find …
   … a perfect paper airplane.   
    
   Ellen Hopkins, Impulse  
     (Series:  # ) 
    
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