Megan Simpson

The Miracle

Protagonist: Charity Sulverman

First Person

Person vs. Self

“ Over here!” I giggled. He ran over to me. We embraced in a huge hug. As we parted, I looked into his huge blue eyes, and saw tears coming. I thought to myself, “Don’t cry, please.”

            “ Everything’s going to be okay,” I assured him.

            “ Charity, I’m going to miss you so much,” He said.

We walked down the beach. I looked at the waves, thinking of how this might be my last time here with him. Ever since Brad has been in my life, I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m going to die without him. I can’t tell him that, though, because then he might not go.

            “ You will have fun over there, Brad, I promise.” I hope he will. After one last hug I walked to my front door. Before I entered, I looked back. There he is, just staring at me. Tears have started to stream down his face. I can’t help but quickly run back, and he wraps his arms around me. As my face is against his chest, I can feel his heartbeat flutter as he cries. We stood there in a long silence for five minutes. I kissed him, and then slowly walked to my house. This time, I couldn’t look back or I wouldn’t be able to go inside. I’m going to miss him so much.

            The next day, I got a call.

            “ Hello?” I asked.

            “ Hi. This is the airport. I was calling to see if you know a man named Brad Haralson.” My heart stopped. How does she know Brad? Has something happened?

            “ Uh, yes I do know Brad. Why do you ask?” I asked with the phone shaking in my hand.

            “ Well, I tried to call his parents but they didn’t answer. So I found your number. It seems that last night the plane that Brad was on crashed. What kind of relationship do you have with him?” The person on the other line sounds so, well… not caring.

            “ He’s my boyfriend.” I said.

            “ Oh. I’m terribly sorry to tell you this, but we haven’t been able to find his body. I’m afraid he’s gone. He most likely got burned when the plane crashed.” Immediately, I hung up. I can’t take this. How is he possibly dead? This can’t be true, it just can’t be.

            It’s been six months now since I’ve lost him. Time has gone by so fast and I still miss him as much as I did when it happened. Around me, there are pictures. All of them are in wooden frames. I look to my left, and there’s one of us at the beach. That was the day we had started dating, about two years ago. Then, a flash of red went by the window. What was that? I looked over quickly, and there’s a man walking his dog.  That’s a relief, for a second I thought he was... wait, is it? I ran outside. The air was cold and knocked the air out of me, but I kept running.

            “ Brad! Is that you?” I asked. The man turned his head to take a look at me. It’s him! It has to be! It looks just like him, the longish brown hair, and freckles. He even has the same smile.

            “ I’m sorry, but I’m not Brad. My name is Joe,” He said. No, that’s not possible.

            “ No, your name is Brad. I know it is. Do you not remember me?” I asked.

            “ I don’t know who you are, or what you’re talking about. Please just go back to your house. You have the wrong person.”

            “ No. Brad, you have to remember me! It’s me, Charity. How can you not remember? Brad, it’s me!”

            “ I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Sorry.” Tears started to pour down my face. The air doesn’t feel cold anymore. It feels like a million little knives cutting through me. How can he not remember? How is he even alive?

            “ What happened to you? Who did this? Do you remember the plane?” I said.

            “ What plane? The last time I was on a plane was six months ago. I was going to New York.”

            “ Describe what the plane looked like then.”

            “ It was gray, I think. And I think the seats were blue? I actually can’t remember,” There was a pause, and then he said, “ Huh, that’s really weird. It was only six months ago. How can I not remember?”

            “ Brad, or Joe, whatever. Wanna know why you can’t remember? That plane you were on crashed!”

            “ No, it didn’t. It couldn’t have. My dad said I went to New York but fell off my motorcycle and had to come back.”

            “ You didn’t even have a motorcycle! Here, I can prove to you that you know me, and that I’m telling the truth. Just come to my house.”

            “ Alright, fine. But, lady, if you try to do something to me, I have my phone. I can call the police.” He answered. With that, we walked up to my house. Inside, I showed him the pictures of us. The one when we first met at the beach. I told him about how we were dating, and we loved each other. I told him how he had to move, but his plane crashed and I thought he was dead.

            Then, he started crying. Oh no, have I overwhelmed him? I started crying too. I went to give him a hug, and he let me. He wrapped his arms around me. Suddenly, the memory of when we were hugging by my door the night before he left came back to me. I miss him so much. I wish he could remember me, so I can still have him. Maybe I can make him remember! By keeping him with me, and us doing all the things we used to do.

            “ Do you believe me Brad? Even if you don’t remember me, please stay here, with me. Or come to lunch with me tomorrow. We used to always eat at Joe’s Crabshack. Can you come meet me there tomorrow?” I asked.

            “ Sure, I’ll come by tomorrow. And, I just want to say before I leave, sorry I don’t remember you, I really wish I did. I’ll try to remember. Uh, could I take this photo?” he said.

            “ Sure, take it.” I answered.

            The next day I woke up happy. For once, I’m happy. Now I just need to get Brad to remember me. But how? And more importantly, I need to learn why his dad told him a lie and didn’t just tell him the truth. I started getting ready. After I was done I headed down to the garage to get my car. On my way, I got a call. Huh, I don’t recognize the number.

            “ Hello?” I asked.

            “ Is this Charity?” He said. It sounded like Brad’s father.

            “ Yes, this is,” I started putting the keys in the ignition.

            “ Brad can’t come today, sorry, but he has other stuff to do,” I started to reply, but he hung up. That was weird. I guess I’ll just have to wait to see him again.

            That next morning, after work, I walked back into my apartment. The room smelled like fish, probably because I had that for dinner last night. After Brad’s father called I had gone back upstairs and just stayed at home all day. The walls of my apartment are a sea green, with black ornaments everywhere. My mother bought this place and touched it up for a surprise present after I finished my first semester in college with very good grades. My cat, Harley, was sitting on the couch. He’s very small; I’m not sure why.

            Harley started to hiss. I looked out the window, and saw him. It was Brad, walking his dog again. I walked outside to talk to him.

            “ Hey Brad, I got your call from your—“

            “ You know, you didn’t have to stand me up like that,” He said.

            “ What are you talking about? I asked, “ I got a call from your dad telling me that you couldn’t come because you had other stuff to do.”

            “ Great excuse, Charity. I was standing there for half an hour waiting for you, but you never even came.” He started to walk away.

            “ Brad, seriously, your dad did call me. Come on, let’s go talk to him,” I said while walking toward him.

            “ Whatever, fine.” We started walking up the street. It felt good walking with him again, I haven’t done it in such a long time. I wonder what his dad was trying to do. It seems unrealistic for him to do this, he was so nice when I knew him. I looked over at Brad, and he looked back, smiling. Wow, he has the same smile as his dad. To think I never noticed that.

            His house looks exactly the same as it did before. It’s grayish white walls with rocks around the edge. There’s a dog in the backyard; it’s fur a perfect golden color. It looked over at me and started barking. “ Is that Tank? Aw, Tanky! You look so good boy! Yes you do, oh yes you do,” I ran over to pet him.

            “ I remember once when I was seven, Tank had gone and eaten all the chocolate chip cookies my mom had made for us,” he was laughing by now, “ then when he was running around outside, he puked the cookies all over my dad!” We both burst out laughing. As I was getting my breath back I realized something. “Wait, Brad, how do you remember that?”

“ Um how would I not remember?” He started to scratch his head.

            “ If you remember what happened when you were six, where do you stop remembering?” I asked.

            “ I don’t—“ Just then his dad walked in. Wow, that was weird timing. An awful look came across his face, like he had just eaten rotten food. He kept looking at me, and then at Brad, and then back to me. Then he simply walked back inside. I looked questioningly at Brad, and when he noticed me looking at him, he just shrugged and smiled a weak smile. I love that smile. He used to always do it when he was a little shy. I lightly went onto my tiptoes and kissed him. He shot back, startled. Then a face I recognize so well came to him. “ Oh, my Charity! I remember you! I missed you so much!” he said. He remembers me! I jumped onto him and hugged him. When we parted he said, “ Come on, let’s go see why my dad lied to me this whole time.”

            We went back inside to go talk to his dad. Only we couldn’t find him. He was gone, just like that. We searched everywhere; upstairs and downstairs, and in the basement too. I wonder why he left. Brad started shouting his name out frantically and calling his phone. It was on the counter. It’s small and gray; the same one he’s always had. Brad picked it up and started looking through it. He found a folder that held many passwords for things he had a lock on at work, his laptop password, and also the garage password. He clicked on the laptop password and started walking to the den.

            The den was a small room, with pictures everywhere on the walls. Most of them were of his mom, she had passed away when Brad was a little baby. The laptop was in the far left corner of the room on a black table. We walked over, and he typed in the password onto the laptop. It buzzed and came to life. He started searching files and files of information. While we were looking we ran over and odd file, it was called Brad’s childhood. There was a newspaper article about Brad’s mom. It was about how she had been taken. I thought she died! “ Your mom was taken? Does that mean she’s still alive?” I asked.

            “ No, this is all wrong. My dad said she died in a car accident,” he replied. We stopped reading and started looking in other files. There were more and more about his mom. What’s happening? Is this really true? Then, there was another file. It was a sheet from the mental institute downtown. His dad’s name was on it! He used to be a patient there! “ Did you know about this, Brad?” My hand cupped over my mouth. He backed away from the computer.

            “ I had no idea. This is crazy, my dad couldn’t have been a patient.” He said. Just then, I felt someone looking at me. I looked over to the doorway, and his dad was standing right there with that weird look on his face again. Creepy. “ Um, hi Mr. Haralson. How long have you been standing there?” Brad pretended to cough.

            “ Long enough to know what you guys are doing. You shouldn’t be on that laptop young man. How did you even get on anyways?” Mr. Haralson asked.

            “ That doesn’t matter. All that matters is this,” Brad pointed at the laptop, “Were you really a patient at the mental institute? And is mom really alive?” Brad started fidgeting with his shirt. He always does that when he’s nervous.

            “ Don’t try and change the subject!” his dad shouted.

            “ Dad answer my question, please!” Brad shouted back. He looked like he was about to cry. I went over and put my arm around him. We stood there and waited for an answer. It took his dad a while to speak again.

            “ Okay, maybe it’s about time you know this. When you were a baby, your mom got taken. She was taken while she was walking to her car one night after work. A couple years later I was sure she was dead, but then I got a call. She told me she was in New York and was still kidnapped, and that there was no way she could get home. I begged her, but she said it was impossible. He’s watching her and everything. She said she was trapped, and if there ever came a day that she escaped, she would come straight back here. I called the police and tried to get them to contact the number, and figure out where she was, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t figure out how; they said there was no way to trace the phone she had used. I decided she was never going to come back, so I just told you she passed away. I knew that would be a lot easier to know,” his dad started to turn away, but he didn’t walk away. He just stood there with his back turned.

            “ Wait, I was going to New York six months ago. My mom is in New York. The plane crashed, but you told me I had gone and had to come back. Oh no… dad? Did you make the plane crash?” Brad started to fall gently. I grabbed him and gave him a squeeze to let him know I was there.

His dad swiveled around and looked at us. His eyes were wild, and his face was getting redder by the second. He looked crazy. “ Are you okay Mr. Haralson?” I asked. He started staring at me.

“ You! You should just leave and never come back! If you stay with my boy, you’ll probably get taken away and have to live in a death hole like my wife!” he shouted.

“ Sorry, Mr. Haralson, but I’m not leaving,” I simply stated.

“ Dad, enough! Just answer my question,” Brad grabbed the phone, ready to dial the police.

“ Alright, fine! I didn’t want to risk you seeing your mother because if you saw her you would get mad at me and never come home! I couldn’t take that risk. I didn’t realize you were going where she was, though, until you were getting on the plane. I had to make it crash, Brad!” his dad was going crazy now, jumping up and down like a dog with rabies.

“ Dad, that’s ridiculous! You didn’t have to make the plane crash! You could have just called me and told me to get off before the plane started!” Brad said. His dad stopped jumping and sat straight up. He looked at me, and then at Brad. A confused look slowly appeared on his face.

“ Oh, I never thought of that.”