Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Or what if you had cancer and you felt bad all the time. And you knew you were going to die eventually. Would you just get it over with? It might save family a lot of sadness. They wouldn’t have to watch you slowly die.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You never think about that? You’ve never thought about how you would kill yourself if you needed to do it?”
“Nope.” I had no idea that my dad would one day drive my mind there. He would anger me and embarrass me to the point of thinking about how I would kill myself.
“At first, I thought I would use a gun because it would be quick. Then I thought about it a little more and realized someone would find me and have to clean up the mess. Now, I’d probably do it in a way that nobody ever found me. They’d never have to see me dead. And they could remember me when I was happy and wanted to live. Doesn’t that sound like the best way to go?”
“Or …” I chuckled. “You could not kill yourself. I like that idea best. Don’t kill yourself.”
“Because you would miss me?” She nudged my arm.
I grinned. “Maybe.”
Undoubtedly.
My young brain had quite the imagination, but it couldn’t imagine a world without Josephine Watts, my best friend.
“I’d tie bricks around my feet and jump off a bridge into the river. I wouldn't leave a note. Maybe my family would wonder if somewhere I was still alive. They’d have hope. Hope is good. It’s better than knowing for sure that you will never see someone again.”
I didn’t know. Josie’s mind worked different than mine and everyone else I knew. Not different bad, just … different.
“Would you cry if I died?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t like to cry. Would you want me to cry?”
“Nah. Just sit in my tree and eat a whole candy bar by yourself. Maybe talk to me. I think it’s cool when people talk to the dead like they can hear them. Do you believe in ghosts?”
And just like that … we jumped to another interesting conversation.
“Oh my gosh!” She shot up as I tugged on my fishing pole. “You caught one, Colten! You did it! Don’t let it go! It’s a big one.” She helped me hold my fishing pole as I reeled it in. “If you lose it, you’ll never catch one like it again.”
I kinda thought the same thing about Josephine Watts.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Once the snowstorm lets up, we’ll go out again,” Isaac says a week later.
A week after our wedding day.
A week after Josie lost her battle.
A week after I knew she was gone forever.
“You won’t find her.” I stare at my untouched plate of food.
Savannah and Mom think I need my strength. I lost it a week ago. I’m the only one facing reality.
The Chicago PD are still looking. Signs have been posted. Her picture’s been all over the news and internet.
“Son, we’ll find her,” Isaac says.
Her body. He means they’ll find her body. I think he knows she’s gone. They need a body for closure. Should I tell him and Savannah that they won’t find her body, which means they can carry this “hope” with them forever? Should I tell them that Josie has been planning her death (even if unknowingly) for decades?
Savannah wipes a tear from her cheek and smiles at her hopeful husband. She, too, knows. My mom keeps to herself. This has resurrected all the memories of my dad hanging himself. At least he left his body in plain sight, which made closure a little easier.
I don’t know which is worse: their hope or my certainty.
My phone chimes with a FaceTime from Reagan. I take a deep breath and search for a little smile. “Hey, Button.”
“Hi, Daddy. Did you find Josie?” She has a smile for me. And a cute, short hairdo. Josie was right. She’s adorable in short hair. “Mommy said she’s been sharing her picture and looking for her. I look for her too when I’m at school.”
My little girl knows how to hit me in the feels; her words make my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“That’s …” I swallow hard. “That’s nice of you and Mommy. Thank you.”
“I’m not mad that she cut my hair. Mommy said Josie wasn’t well. She said she was sad about something that happened a long time ago.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Well, she’ll get better. And when I see her again, I’m going to show her my hair and tell her that I’m not mad. And I’m going to tell her that Mommy has read me three of the books Josie gave me for Christmas. And yesterday I took the bag she gave me to the library, and it held eight books!”
“Oh yeah?” I hold my phone away for a second while I stand and head to the stairs, wiping the corners of my eyes with the heel of my hand. “That’s great.”