For the rest of my life, I would help.
I would save people.
I would bring them back to life.
Like my father brought Gibs back from his watery grave.
Like my mother brought his heart back to life.
BEST FRIENDS FOREVER
Lizzie
JUNE 24, 1995
OVER A MONTH HAD PASSED SINCE THE FUNERAL, BUT SADNESS WAS ALL AROUND US. Like a monster, it swept everyone up and gobbled them whole.
I wanted to help Gibsie, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure of the words I needed to say, or if he even wanted to hear them. I knew I wouldn’t have. If my mother got swept out to sea, I wouldn’t ever want to wake up again.
It made me so sad to think that Gibs couldn’t ever get his daddy and sister back. My daddy and sister were always cross with me, but I still got to see them every day, while Gibsie would never see his again.
He went back to school right after, which I thought was so brave. Claire said he could have taken the rest of the school year off, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he got back up and faced the day. It made me proud to be his friend. It made me think I could be brave like him someday, too.
Since the funeral, Caoimhe spent a lot more time babysitting Claire and Hugh because Pete was so sad and Sinead needed the help.
Gibsie’s daddy was Hugh’s daddy’s best friend since primary school, and Pete didn’t want to get out of bed anymore. Not with his bestest friend in the world up in heaven.
Sinead told me that I could come over whenever my sister was babysitting because it was good for her kids to have their friends around them.
I happily agreed because I didn’t want to be away from any of them, including Gibsie, who spent most of his time at their house.
When Dad dropped Caoimhe to Avoca Greystones this morning for her babysitting shift, I made sure I was right there with her.
Clambering up the familiar staircase, I skipped down the landing, making a beeline to Claire’s bedroom door, only to hesitate when I reached it.
Because something deep inside was telling me to go to the other door.
Go to Hugh.
I couldn’t explain what that was, but it was strong and forceful and willing me to put one foot in front of the other.
I thought about knocking but decided against it, twisting the doorknob and slipping inside instead.
Glancing around his bedroom, I felt a little dizzy. Giddy even. It felt like I had stepped into someone’s “good room” and I wasn’t supposed to touch any of the shiny crystalware, but Iwantedto.
That’s what Hugh’s bedroom always felt like to me.
I wanted to touch everything.
All his books and trophies and Lego.
Even when I wasn’t supposed to.
He had a signed jersey framed over his bed, with Roy Keane’s signature on it, and I thought that might be his most important possession.
I wanted to touch that most of all.
He was tidier than Claire. Everything had a place in Hugh’s room. It was almost bare in comparison to the countless dolls,stuffed animals, and toys that lined the walls of Claire’s room. He was simplistic and structured.
