“Look,” I said, feeling my face start to burn, “the truth is I had already tried and it didn’t work. The day Nan died. I saw it on her, the doctors ran all kinds of tests. But how could they know? It could have been anything. If I couldn’t stop it for her, with so many people trying, how could I stop it for anyone else?”
Lucas stared at me, frowning. “That’s it, Cassandra? One time? You tried once and gave up?”
“I didn’t give up,” I said defensively. “Besides, even if I’d thought I could change things, who says I’m supposed to? What if it’s not the right thing to do?”
“Right for them or for you?”
“Are you calling me selfish?” My tone told him I was outraged, but really I was as angry and frustrated with myself as I was with Lucas. His interrogation was bringing up all the things I’d been struggling with these many months. Things I’d wondered about, but did nothing, not nearly enough, I thought now, to explore.
“I’m just wondering, Cassandra. I don’t understand your objection. You have the power to save lives.” He asked again, “Why wouldn’t you?”
The way Lucas said it, it seemed so simple. Why wouldn’t I?
It was then that it struck me—I had let that girl die. I’d known I might change things, had done so for Lucas, but had chosen to stay silent, following her down those dirty New York sidewalks to her fated destination. Watching as she jumped. I felt monstrous. Is this who I am?
Still, something held me back from wanting to dive headlong into rescuing everyone marked by the light. What about what was meant to be? Fate? In my gut, I knew there was more. Had to be, or I was just a coward. Or worse. “What if I’m not supposed to tell?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if … this mark … is really meant just for me to see?”
“Why would it be? Meant for you by whom?”
“I don’t know. God?”
“Ridiculous,” Lucas said. “Do you think God would give you an ability you weren’t meant to use? Is a gifted pianist meant not to play? An artist not to paint? It doesn’t make sense, Cassandra.”
“So I’m to save these people? God put me here, with this ability, to hold off death for the people of Bering, Kansas? Does that make sense, Lucas?”
He shrugged.
“And what, might I ask, would you say? Hi, I’m Lucas and today’s your day to die?”
“I’m not in your shoes, Cassie, so I’m sure it’s easy for me to say,” Lucas said quietly, “but I’d like to think I’d figure something out.”
I stared at my food angrily. How dare he.
“Listen.” Lucas leaned in, speaking softly. “I know it’s hard, but don’t you think you should at least consider it?”
“What could I have done for that girl, Lucas? She already knew it was her day to die.”
He nodded. “I thought about that. But maybe if you had talked to her, you’d have realized the problem, could have told someone else.”
I snorted. “Right. In a five-minute conversation I could have deduced that she was suicidal.”
“Well, don’t forget, you had a head start. You knew she was going to die. Surely you considered that possibility?”
I remembered the train rushing into the station, thinking she might jump. I said nothing.
“Maybe nothing would have come of it,” Lucas acknowledged. “Maybe you wouldn’t have figured it out. But maybe you would.”
“And if I had, then what? If I knew her, maybe I could have helped, reminded her that people cared or that things’ll get better, but honestly, Lucas, why would she believe a total stranger? Why would she even stop to listen?”
He shrugged. “Maybe she wouldn’t have, but you don’t know. Maybe just talking to her about death would have scared her enough to make her reconsider, Cassie.” He continued, “What you do know is that it couldn’t be any worse, right? I mean, she was already going to die. Anything would be worth trying, wouldn’t it?”
It was hard to disagree, but I wasn’t ready to agree either.
“Think about what you’re saying, Lucas,” I countered. “What would that mean for me? Following people around, trying to convince them they’re about to die? They’d never believe me. Think about how you reacted. You thought I was nuts, and you know me.”
“But I listened,” he said, “and I’m still here.”
I was silent.
“It won’t be easy, Cassandra. You’re right about that. But you’re strong. It’s one of the things I admired about you, what drew me to you. I would never have pegged you as one to take the easy way out. Especially about something as important as this. Don’t you see?” he said earnestly. “This is it. Your purpose. Maybe mine too. Helping you use this extraordinary gift.”
I knew then that this was more than a conversation. It was an ultimatum. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was as simple as helping people and I was taking the coward’s way out. “All right, Lucas,” I mumbled, struggling to say the words. “I’ll try.”
He beamed. “You’re making the right decision, Cassandra. And I will support you a hundred percent. I want you to tell me all about it: who you see, what you say to them, how they react …” He rambled on, about how incredible this was, about destiny and meaning. I stopped listening, already dreading the days ahead, actually doing what I’d just agreed to.
Finally Lucas stood, collecting our trays, smiling at me. “We’ll do it together, Cassandra. Together we’ll find a way to turn this into the best possible good.”
I stayed with him that night. I should have been thrilled, but there was something different in the way he looked at me. I used to catch him watching as I read or dressed or cooked, but his expression now was as if he were watching a rare but dangerous animal: intrigued, drawn, repelled, and above all, cautious. He smiled when I caught him looking, but it was without warmth. Calculating.
“Remember,” he said the next day as we were leaving the apartment, “if you see one, you can call me. I’ll come help you or if I’m too far, we can talk through what you should say. I’ll keep my cell on vibrate during meetings. I’ll see you in class.”
I hadn’t studied for that day’s lesson, only skimmed the reading. It was the first time I’d slacked, but with all that had happened, I just couldn’t do it.