Free Surfacing (Spark Saga) by Melissa Dereberry Page A

headstone?”
                  “You know, I think you’re right.”  I examine the words again and nod.  “Yes, definitely.”
                  “So that just leaves the question of where.”
                  “Where’s the nearest graveyard?”
                  She snaps her fingers.  “Hmmm. Maybe we can do a random geocache search with the word ‘cemetery’ in the search line.”
                  “Good idea!”
                  Cricket starts typing into her phone, while I wander away from the dock and look around.  Directly behind me is the hiking trail and forest.  In front of me is the play area, the dilapidated swings where I fell so many years ago.  It seems surreal, that this place changed the course of my life forever.  Such a simple, average place.  Not where you’d expect life-altering events to take place at all.
                  Cricket comes walking briskly toward me.  “Cox Cemetery…it’s about three miles from here.”
                  “I think I know the place.  Should we go check it out?”
                  “We’ve gone this far,” she replies.
                  “Yes, we have.”
                  As we pull out of the parking lot, I glance in the side view mirror.  There, much closer than it appears , is the swing set.  It is an ironic moment.  That place in those few seconds of a stormy day, will forever be closer to me—a part of who I am—even if it seems millions of miles away.  It’s like time froze there, and I can’t touch it or see inside its hard shell.  Understanding it completely may be outside my grasp forever.  But the impact will be felt, and lived, every second of my life.             
 
                 
                 
    Zach                            
                  I am so engrossed in planting the mums, replaying in my mind the dream I’d had the night before, that I don’t notice the car pull up.  My mom mentions it first.  “Those two girls look about your age, do you know them?”
                  “What?”  I look around, and sure enough, there are two girls walking through the cemetery.  They are far enough away that I’m not sure they’ve even noticed us.  As they get closer, it takes only seconds for me to realize who they are.  Tess and Cricket.  What in the world are they doing here?   I realize I am staring, and I don’t want my mom to ask a lot of questions, so I just look down, shrug, and mutter, “I dunno.  I think they go to my school, but I don’t really know them.”
                  One of the girls seems to be fixated by her cell phone, and I notice that they are staying relatively far away.  Maybe they did spot me.  “There.  I think that’s all of them,” I say, picking up the plastic bag and trowel. 
                  My mom nods.  “I think that’s it.  Why don’t you go ahead and put those things in the trunk and I will be there in a minute.”  She hands me the key.
                  I make my way back to the car, taking care not to look at Tess and Cricket.  I must admit, my curiosity is definitely aroused.  I long to go up to Tess and, as casually as possible, ask her how she’s doing.  But, I realize it isn’t exactly the most ideal place for that.  I mean, a graveyard makes people nervous to begin with.  I place the items inside the car and get back in the passenger seat, watching my mom.  She stands with one hand rested on the headstone, the other sort of wrapped around herself, her head down.  I wonder if she’s praying, or talking to my father, and what she might say to him, if she could.  I feel a twinge of guilt, given that I had allegedly made contact with dad recently .  If it really was him, he had some explaining to do.  On the