Chapter 9:
Death has always been a weird concept for me. I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd ever encountered it. My grandmother Marie, this senior at my old school who drove drunk and got turned into a lecture point, and my stepdad Phil's brother.
I had attended all the funerals. I stared at the bodies— no, the corpses– and realized that all I was looking at was a sack of flesh and blood and bones, no different than the deer or squirrels you see dragged off to the side of the road after being hit.
But that meat sack had housed a soul. It had laughed and sung and cried. Had played hopscotch and jump rope as a child. Had spent hours crying after their first heartbreak. Had argued with their parents over bad grades. And now, Nothing.
It wasn't a sadness or shock, but a surreal feeling that I couldn't exactly name. And I felt the exact same way now.
It had been a week since my father's best friend, a man who had been in my life since a child and was practically family- had died. And not a peaceful death, no, but a gruesome one. Mauled to death on a hunting trip.
The first night was spent at the Clearwater household. Dad had wanted to be there for the family. Me too.
There had been lots of crying. Seth was distraught. So was Sue. Leah, who was the first person I'd gone to look for, was nowhere to be found. Sue said that Leah had been having the most trouble and needed space. I'd wanted to ask more but those were the only words I was able to get out of the woman besides her sobs.
Since then, everything had seemed to blend together. Just moments of held breath and clock-ticking, waiting for the main event: the funeral. Because even though you know someone is dead, you don't really know until the funeral. It's like the green light to start grieving.
I'd just finished getting dressed.
Owning none of my own, I had borrowed one of Bella's black dresses. Standing in the mirror, I run my hands over the sides of it.
It rested higher on my thighs than it did my sisters and was tight in some areas, naturally because Bella didn't really eat all that much. I wondered if I should be concerned about that, but one battle at a time.
Grabbing my purse, I make my way out into the hall, towards Dad's door, and knock. The door is pulled open and I'm welcomed to a fully dressed and ready Charlie.
The sight catches me off guard at first. He'd hardly left his room the last couple of days and at night I would hear his sniffling. I'd halfway expected him to be the same way this morning. His eyes are still puffy but he looks much better.
"Would you mind starting the car, Sweetheart? I'll be down in a second."
"Sure thing," I smile, before closing the door back.
I'm much more careful going down the stairs than usual, the fear of falling down them still lingering behind.
As soon as I enter the kitchen I'm greeted by the site of Bella. She had never been one for emotions like I was and preferred to support Dad in acts of service. The last couple of days she had spent cleaning up the house, making Dad's favorite foods, and taking messages from his friends at the Police station.
"Here," She hands me a cup of coffee as soon as she sees me.
I stare at the cup for a few seconds before shrugging and raising it to my lips. I'm not much of a coffee drinker, but if she was offering…
"No," Bella stops me, taking something out of the oven, "Bring it to Charlie."
I nod. That makes more sense. Footsteps were heard from the staircase and Dad emerged.
"No need," he announces, taking it from my hand. "Thanks, Bells."
"No problem," Bella replied, going to take something out of the oven.
"What's that?"
"... A casserole. For the Clearwaters."
"Why?"
Bella paused, "It's what you do for the family of the deceased?" Bella said though it sounded more like a question.
"It's a lovely gesture Bella. I'm sure they'll be thankful."
With that, Dad grabbed his keys and we all loaded up into the cruiser.
We get to the burial grounds.
In walks Sue and Seth, with an unfamiliar woman between them. Sue has her arms around the stranger in a comforting manner. When she turned around I got a full view of her face. Her cheeks were covered with tear tracks and her eyes were puffy, but that's not what made me do a double take.
I must still be dreaming. Or worse, maybe my dreams have started to cross into when I'm awake. Like Hallucinations. Because there was no other possible explanation from what I was seeing.
The woman standing in front with her arms crossed and shoulders stiff…Her hair was short, cut just above her ears. Like those mushroom haircuts from the 90's. Her body was more muscular, her features more strong, and at least half a foot taller, but her face… Her face was Leah's.
I nudge Bella and Jacob, pointing towards her.
Bella just looks confused, "What?"
"I think… That's' Leah." I whisper, nudging in her direction again. "You guys see it too right?"
Bella squints her eyes before widening them in confusion. Then, she nods.
I turn to Jacob expecting him to be just as bumfuzzled as us, but he just looks certain. Resigned. "Sam's gotten to her." He says.
I go to ask him what he means but the funeral starts and Bella shushes us.
Nobody is in good spirits during the funeral but it seems particularly hard on one person.
Leah had sat tense, arms crossed in the front but towards the end began to crumble. She started to shake. Normal at first and I thought maybe she might just be trying not to break down, but then it started to get unnormal. The shaking gets faster and faster. Is she seizing or something?
The mysterious man and Paul share a glance as if talking silently, then the man reaches up to place a hand on her shoulder. Leah slaps it off almost as soon as it touches her and mouths something to them that I can't make out.
Neither place their hands on her anymore but sit on the edge of their chair, as if ready for something to happen.
The casket is lowered all the way into the ground and the preacher-like man says some final words I can't understand but sound like a prayer. After he's done– and I mean immediately after the last word leaves his mouth– Leah practically flees, the two guys following behind her.
Me and Bella currently sit in the kitchen, just talking. After the burial, we found ourselves at the Clearwater's house. Charlie had made himself busy talking with Billy and Sue as soon as we got there, leaving me and Bella to our own devices. Bella took her casserole to the kitchen and I followed her.
Bella fidgets around a little bit before announcing, "I'm gonna get some air."
I go to say Me too but stop. Beside Sue, where my Dad and Billy were standing, are now Mystery Guy and Paul. I don't know what they're talking about but I can tell something is off.
I nod to Bella, "Go ahead. Talk to you later."
As Bella leaves, I make my way over to Sue. Mystery Guy nods politely when I approach but Paul just rolls his eyes. They turn back to Sue, promising to talk to her later before walking away.
What is their problem?
"Hi ," I greet, "The service was beautiful."
"Thank you, Helena." The corners of her lips rose slightly before falling quickly, as if she was just too exhausted to give a full smile.
Now that I'm in her house and her mother is in front of me, I decide now is as good a chance as any to ask about Leah.
"Is Leah here?" I question. I had been calling and leaving messages all week and had been getting the runaround, so I decided bluntness was the best route. "I wanted to offer my condolences."
Sue bites her lip and I think she's going to politely tell me 'She isn't here right now, dear' or 'She said she would like space at the moment' but she instead smiles fully, waving down the hall towards Leah's bedroom.
"That's a great idea… She can really use a friend right now." She seems to say the last part to herself, her voice trailing away.
I place my hand on her shoulder, "Thanks."
It's a one-level house with two halls off the living room, one leading to Sue and Har— to Sue's bedroom, the other leading to Leah and Seth's bedroom, and a bathroom in the middle. I go to Leah's familiar door, a dark blue with a crooked 'Do not disturb' sign on it and knock softly.
Getting no response, I knock again. Louder. "Leah, it's Helena."
I hear the sound of a bed shifting –you know, like someone had gotten up from it– and expect the door to open—a few seconds pass and a few more after that, and still, nada.
"Leah. I know you're in there!"
I continue knocking but get no response. Frustration bubbles into pissed-offness and I begin to storm off before stopping myself. I was here for Leah, not myself, and I couldn't let my emotions get the best of me. Letting out a sigh, I turn around and march back to the door.
"I'm sorry about your Dad… I came over immediately after I got your phone call." It felt necessary to mention. "Look… I've been trying to give you space and if that's what you need, I will keep doing so. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, or just to have fun and take your mind off… it. Whatever it is, I'm here."
Somewhat satisfied with that, I head back down the hall.
Why was Leah's hair so short? Maybe she cut it in mourning?
Actually, fuck the hair. How had she sprouted another half-foot in only a couple of days? And how had she put on muscle so quickly? And why was she hanging out with Paul of all people? And why had she ignored me when she had reached out and called me that night?
None of it made sense, and being in here only served to make things more confusing. Something was wrong and I wanted to get to the bottom of it, to ask questions and demand answers, but I couldn't do it here. Not at Harry's funeral.
Tired of wracking my brain, I wanted to go home.
Something cold landed on my lap, bringing me out of my thoughts suddenly. It was a bottle of rootbeer. I looked up in the direction it came from to find Jacob there, making his way over towards me.
"Quil and Embry go home?" I ask once he reaches me, taking a sip of my root beer. He must've just gotten it from the cooler because it's ice cold. Refreshing to drink but troublesome to hold. I find myself wishing I had a napkin to wrap around it.
"What, I can't just talk to you?" I raise my eyebrow and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Okay, you got me. Quil had a test to study for and Embry had to pick up his mom for work."
I scootch over a little bit, patting the space beside me for him to sit down. He does.
"You should've gone too." I tell him, "It's getting boring here. Even for a funeral."
"I can't." He points his bottle in the direction of the couch where Billy and Charlie sit, drinking their own bottles that didn't hold soda."I'm driving."
Ah.
It was silent for a moment until I spoke up.
'How's Billy holding up?"
"Fine, I guess."
"You guess?" I asked.
He shrugs, "He hasn't been home all that much the last couple of days. He's usually here or with Old Quil or something. I've tried to ask him about it but he kinda clams up when talking about how Harry died. I guess it's still too fresh."
I hummed in agreement.
"Charlie?" He asks.
"Oh. Not good. He's been holed up in his room all week. I think being here with friends is helping though. Or, at least I hope it is."
Charlie's a protector. Always has been. So being here with Billy and the Clearwaters, being here for them, will help him. It might not fix everything, but he'll feel better actually doing something rather than staying in that dark room and trying to avoid his teen daughters so they don't notice him breaking down.
He's not the person I'm the most worried about at the moment.
Something must read in my expression because Jacob bumps my shoulder, "Hey, don't worry. He'll be fine. He has you take care of him."
I'm grateful for the obvious attempt at a pick-me-up, though it doesn't do anything to calm my mind.
"It's not that…" I sigh.
"Then what is it?"
And that's the thing. I don't know what it is. Maybe Leah is fine ( well, not fine but just grieving normally). Maybe I'm overreacting.
But then I think back to Jacob's words earlier at the burial ground.
It's probably nothing. It's most likely nothing. But just in case…
"Hey, Jacob?"
"Hmmm?"
"What do you know about Sam Uley?"