Chapter 8

Nick skipped football practice and went directly home after school. No need to explain his absence to Coach Sullivan after getting sick in the hallway. His stomach was a hollow void and grumbling at being empty.

He unlocked the door and went in, checked his messages for any updates from his parents. They were at the hospital, but Grandma was better. Dinner. He needed dinner. Nick went into the kitchen, where Minnie wrapped herself around his legs and looked up with her effervescent eyes, reminding him of Cat, but only for a moment. He was starving and remembered there was one piece of pizza left.

He plugged in his phone, grabbed an apple, and heated the pizza and pulled out the journal to read more. While he ate, he read Grandpa’s words: We’ve finally been briefed on Operation Overlord. We are part of the allies landing on the beaches of Normandy to cut off the Germans. We never dreamed this was our mission. We’re quite excited but also worried. When our landing craft got closer, we were faced with sheer cliffs. The Germans are entrenched and began picking us off like sitting ducks. We’ll have our work cut out for us. Those of us who made it to the beach were trapped. Behind us were cliffs and in front of us was the ocean. Some of our tanks were sunk. Nick finished eating and closed the journal, wondering how D-Day and Saumur were connected. Maybe they weren’t. But from what he remembered of Coach’s lectures and what Grandpa had shared, it was all pretty terrible. Were the Romas another piece of the puzzle?

Deep in the night, Nick heard his parents come home. He took a cautious peek at his alarm. Two o’clock. He turned over and went back to sleep only to be visited by images of a Gypsy girl, her familiar topaz eyes rimmed with more smokiness, wearing a white blouse embroidered with flowers on the sleeves, her multilayered skirts raised to reveal a bare leg. The wind swirled her hair, making it dance on the breeze until a sharp noise startled him.

Nick sat up in bed, turned off his alarm, and rubbed his sleep-encrusted eyes. His dream was so vivid. What was her name? The name eluded him, on the tip of his tongue as she floated away. He stretched and pulled the quilt tighter; he didn’t want the dream to end. Even though he was groggy and unfocused, the girl was real to him. Outside, the sky had lightened for the new day. Reluctantly he got up and showered.

While he dried off, he read the text from his mother saying they left early for the hospital and dinner was in the refrigerator. Nick finished dressing, grabbed an apple, took his backpack, and went to school.

In World History, he took his seat next to Cat, yawning widely, making his jaw crack.

“You look terrible,” she said.

Nick rubbed his face and hunched his shoulders. “Weird dream.”

She leaned back and studied him, giving him the once-over. “And what did you dream about?”

Should he tell her he was haunted by a Gypsy? Would she believe him?

“Nothing important.” He wasn’t sure if his dreams were fueled by Cat or reading the journal. Although Grandpa didn’t say anything about Gypsies or even the Jews.

Her face registered disappointment.

“Maybe there is something…” He stopped when class began and Coach started talking.

To tell Cat or not to tell Cat? Would he be validating her belief they were once other people in a past lifetime?

When Coach finished his lecture, Cat turned toward him expectantly.

He let his breath out noisily. “I’ve been having dreams.”

“And?” She moved her head for him to continue.

“About a prison and a boy with a rifle, and a girl.”

“What kind of girl?” Cat asked.

There was only one way to describe her. “A Gypsy girl.”

“I was once a Roma girl,” Cat corrected. “Among other people.” She gave Nick a shoulder shrug like it was no big deal.

“Do you suppose…”

“So you do remember me?”

“I’m not saying that, maybe just the power of suggestion. You know.” He moved his hands. “We’ve been talking about Gypsies, Romas, so they keep popping up in my dreams.”

“Don’t you think that’s a weird coincidence?”

Probably. He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve been reading my Grandpa’s journal about D-Day.”

“Nick.” She drew out his name.

“I need more to convince me.”

“More than remembering?”

“Yeah.” Nick put up his hand. “My family doesn’t believe in reincarnation.”

“Can’t they be wrong?” She let her shoulders rise and then fall.

“My father’s a minister and is pretty sure on the subject.”

“Is that the end of it?”

“I guess.”

She sat back and folded her arms, looking perplexed and doubtful.

****

After school, before football, Nick met Emily on the bleachers. This had been their ritual since they started dating. Today the soft breeze fueled by Lake Michigan ruffled her hair, making strands dance around her face. He bent over and kissed her nose, red from the chill. She pushed up her glasses and smiled at him.

“How’s your grandmother?” she asked.

“About the same.” He moved his shoulders. “I miss having my parents around. I never thought I’d get tired of leftover pizza, but I am!”

Emily laughed and rocked back on the bench. “And here I thought you could eat anything!”

Nick watched the team file into the locker room. “I better go.”

“You can come over tonight for dinner?” Emily asked.

“I’m always late because of football.”

“I’ll save you a plate,” she said.

“Thanks, but let me check and see if they’ll be home. Love you!” He gave her a final kiss and jogged toward the entrance to change for practice.

Football took on a familiar pattern. Warm-ups, running, push-ups and sit-ups, throwing the ball, catching, kicking, and sprinting. After warm-ups, they played mock games practicing different formations. As much as he tried, Nick’s head was fuzzy and unfocused. He rubbed his face. The lack of sleep was getting to him.

He missed catching the ball that was thrown to him. It sailed past Nick’s head, and Bryan caught it easily and gave him a shit-eating grin.

“Nick!” Coach called. “Concentrate! Anticipate!”

“Concentrate,” Bryan mimicked. “Anticipate!” Bryan’s voice was low, so no one but Nick heard his heckling. “Rev…er…end.”

Nick glared at Bryan. Would the guy never leave him alone? “Shut up!” he snapped, which only fueled the ghoulish glee on Bryan’s face.

When football practice mercifully finished, Nick headed home, hoping his parents had returned from the hospital. He needed to eat and get a good night’s sleep. There were lights on at the house, meaning his parents were home. He parked and went inside.

“Nick?” came his mother’s welcoming voice from the kitchen.

“It’s me,” he said, dropping his backpack next to the front door. A weight seemed to lift, knowing they were home.

“How’s Grandma?” he asked, going into the kitchen and lifting his nose. No dinner smells, only a bag of Chinese takeout.

His father was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. “Better.” He massaged his temples. “She’s better but will need rehab.”

Nick remembered the lag time between Grandma’s thoughts and her words. “She seemed okay when I saw her.”

“It’ll just take time,” his mother said, yawning.

“I really missed having you guys home.” He noticed, too, the dark circles under his mother’s eyes. The lack of sleep was getting to them as well.

“We missed you too,” his mother said, turning away from her computer and stowing it away.

“Let’s just enjoy our dinner knowing Grandma’s in good hands,” his father said.

Nick went to the sink and washed his hands. “Will you be able to go to the game on Friday?”

“Hopefully,” his father said.

“Let’s eat,” his mother said, putting spoons by each carton.

“Dad—” Nick took a deep breath. “—can I talk to you after dinner?”

“Sure.” His father nodded.

Nick’s mother raised her brows and frowned. “Sounds serious?”

“Not really.” But was that a lie?

When they finished eating, Nick and his father went into the office.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” His father sat and waved his hand for Nick to do the same. “Certainly not the birds and bees conversation we had when you were in fifth grade.”

“Nothing like that.” Nick sat on the edge of the chair and clasped and unclasped his hands. “It’s kind of silly, but people have been talking about reincarnation at school.” Lie! Only Cat was talking about it. “What does the Bible say about that?”

“To begin with, the Bible doesn’t mention reincarnation. In fact, it says men only die once.” His father flipped open the Bible on the desk. “You can read it in Hebrews for yourself.”

Nick nodded. “I will.”

“Let me ask you something.” He cupped his chin. “What good would it do to keep living the same sinful life over and over?”

Nick shrugged. “What about finishing stuff left undone?”

“Nope,” his father said. “If that was the case, your mother would be hounding me over and over to clean the garage.” His father chuckled. “The Bible says nothing about coming back to our earthly bodies. It says one soul, not a reconstituted soul—no, just one per body.”

Nick considered his father’s words. “Isn’t reincarnation something the Buddhists believe in?”

“I think so.” His father tilted his head, studying Nick. “Interesting school conversation, don’t you think?”

Nick smiled ruefully. “You know how it is, Dad.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in high school, but I don’t ever remember discussing that.”

“Whatever.” Nick’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “I need to get my homework done.” And see who called him.

He took the steps two at a time and went into his bedroom and closed the door and looked at his phone. Emily.

He called her back. “Hey!”

“What’re you doing?”

He let out a sigh. “Homework.”

“Just homework?”

“Not just homework. Everything.”

“I hope you’re not too busy for me?” Emily’s playful tone held a bit of sarcasm. “How’s your project coming?”

“I don’t even want to think of that right now.”

“What’s she like to work with?”

What was Cat? Stubborn, relentless in her pursuit of discovering what happened to the Romas, antisocial. But he had seen a crack in her façade, a smile and a playful comeback.

“Nick? Is she that bad?” Emily asked.

“She’s just stubborn and wants to research Gypsies.”

“That’s an odd topic,” Emily said.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

He wouldn’t describe her as pretty. Emily was pretty. Cat was more exotic. “No!”

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to distract himself by thinking of Cat. “I’ve got to go. Homework.”

“Sure, Nick. See you tomorrow.” She sounded disappointed.

He took out his calculus book and flipped it open to start on his homework. He hadn’t done his homework last night and now had two days’ worth to do. Other things crowded in, and he couldn’t focus: Cat, the scout, Grandma’s illness, Grandpa’s journal, and Emily all vied for his attention, and he began to feel a tightness in his chest, like he had too much to do and not enough time.

****

The next morning in World History, Coach Sullivan asked, “Nick, can you stay after class for a second?”

“Sure thing.” Maybe it was about the scout. Sure, he wasn’t playing his best, but he’d pull out all the stops for the scout if he had to.

“Mrs. Klaich is worried about your grade in Calculus.”

Not about the scout.

“It’s a hard class,” he explained.

“I know that, but you’ve been getting A’s, so when she said you’ve dropped to a low C, I was concerned.”

“I know.” Nick rubbed his temples with his palms. “My grandmother’s in the hospital, and things are kind of upside down at our house right now.”

“Understood. But your academics come before football.” Coach clasped him on the shoulder.

Football had been Nick’s life.

“I know. I’ll get caught up. I will.”

“See you at practice,” Coach called after him.

Nick waved his hand as he left the class and then pounded his fist against his forehead once in the hallway. Get in the game! Forget all the past-life BS until after the scout visits.