Exit Point Read Free

almost impossible to believe. All reflecting rainbow prisms of light.
    “That’s heaven?” I ask.
    “In a manner of speaking.”
    Heaven was not all floaty and soft like you might think. It was as real as a full keg on Friday night. Only, so far, not as much fun.
    “Who are you?”
    “Your guide,” Wade says. “I’ve been with you from the beginning. You have some decisions to make. I’m here to help you.”
    “I don’t want to make decisions. I want to be alive.”
    “You are alive,” he says. “In a different way and in a different place.”
    I think to myself, This is not the place I want to be.
    “You’ll get used to it,” Wade promises. “Trust me, after a while death will be more real to you than life ever was.”
    I can’t hide a thing from Wade. He knows what I’m thinking.
    “Of course I do.” He nods. “I know every thought you’ve ever had. I know everything about you, Logan. What you did in your life, what you should have done, what you didn’t do.”
    Anger bubbles up from somewhere deep inside. “I’m only sixteen. I didn’t have enough time to do anything important.”
    “You’d be surprised at what some people accomplish in sixteen years.”
    I don’t want to hear about other people. I only care about me. And getting back to my family. “If you’re my guide,” I ask, “why didn’t you stop me from getting in that damned car. Why didn’t you keep me alive? ”
    “I tried. We discussed that particular temptation at length.” He watches me calmly. “You knew your father would push you to stay with the competitive swimming. Your father saw your refusal as another sign of laziness. But it wasn’t. You also knew the argument might get out of hand. And you promised me—you promised yourself—that if it did, you would stay and work something out with your dad. Instead, you took your frustrations out behind the wheel of his car. I warned you not to race on Houser Way.”
    My anger reaches a rolling boil. I am furious at him, furious at myself for being in this unbelievable situation, and I’m scared. I don’t want to be dead. “You’re lying. You didn’t warn me about anything.”
    “I did. You just don’t remember. But you will. In time, you’ll remember lots of things.” He points to the water. “But for now, watch this.”
    The water shimmers flat, into a silver screen. Pictures of my life play out in front of me. Not the things I did, but the things I could have done. I see myself graduatingfrom high school; I feel my parents’ joy. I see Hannah unexpectedly pregnant; I know there is a problem with our baby. I see Amy surrounded by trouble; I know I am supposed to help her.
    “Those were things you wrote into your contract before you were born,” Wade tells me when the pictures fade. “Things you agreed to do. Now you won’t be there to do them. You have altered a mess of probable futures, Logan. Not only have you ended your own life, but you’ve changed the lives of everyone around you.”
    I know my parents still hurt. Their pain is inside me, beating where my heart used to be. Suddenly, I am desperate to be alive. I ache with the want of it. I want to go home to Dad’s stupid high standards and Mom’s “crock-pot surprise” suppers and Amy’s constant blabbering. Home to Hannah. “Let me go back! Give me another chance.”
    “It doesn’t work that way.”
    The accident plays out in slow motion in my mind. I am there again. Laughing with Tom. Waving to Hannah. Getting in the car.Booting the engine. Peeling off in a squeal of rubber. I hear the crash. Feel the heat. Taste blood bubbling in the back of my throat.
    It happened. I really am dead. There is no going back. “But I went home for the funeral,” I whisper.
    “You can hang around the living all you want,” Wade says. “All you have to do is think of a person or a place and you are there.”
    “So I can say good-bye to my folks? Let them know I’m okay?”
    Wade hesitates. “You can