Free Freeze Frame by Heidi Ayarbe

All he had to do was look down at his notebook to change the words, and he’d change the past.
    I concentrated on the obituary, but the print stayed the same. The words didn’t change.
    JASON GABRIEL BISHOP
    Jason Gabriel Bishop, 15, of Carson City, Nev., died from a gunshot wound on October 8, 2008. He was born July 17, 1993, to Gail and Jim Bishop in Dayton, Nev.
    Jason was an accomplished student at Carson High School, and first in his class. He belonged to several school clubs. He was an active member of his youth group at the Foursquare Church and a mentor to younger church members.
    Among his survivors are his parents, Gailand Jim; paternal grandparents, Jacob and Marlene; and two siblings, Brooke and Chase.
    Services will be held Saturday, October 15, at 10 A.M . at the Foursquare Church, followed by a reception. The Meyers Crematorium and Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements.
    The obituary depressed the hell out of me. What does any of that say about Jason? Nothing. All it talked about was his church and his mentoring. But what about who Jason really was for the other 163 hours of the week? What about the Jason who was the next Marvel comics artist? What about the Jason who was the best big brother to Chase? What about the Jason who would make a bet on just about anything—and win? What about the Jason I knew—not some made-up, Bible-toting, preachy mentor Jason? It seemed so sad that Jason’s parents didn’t even know him, like they were missing somebody who wasn’t even real.
    â€œWhat do you think?” Dr. Matthews urged.
    Having it in print made it feel cheap—nothing more than headline news. All Nevada Appeal subscribers would have read this and thought, “Oh, too bad.” Maybe over coffee they’d tsk-tsk and talk about the dangers of Carson City, sorry about the churchy dead kid. Then they’d go on with their regular day because, to them, it was just words on a page.
    I handed the obituary back to Dr. Matthews. “I think they didn’t know Jason.”
    Dr. Matthews nodded. “And you did?”
    â€œWell, yeah. He was my best friend.”
    â€œWould you have written something different?”
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    I would’ve written about the first time Jason and I got to go camping on our own, up at Marlette Lake. We hiked the five miles up from our families’ campground and hung out the whole afternoon, swimming, fishing, and skipping rocks. We started a campfire and ate sizzling, charred hot dogs off sticks that tasted like pine, then bet on who would see the most falling stars. We hadn’t even set up camp. We weren’t gonna because we wanted to sleep outside, under the stars.
    Then it started to pour, one of those Nevada rains that come out of nowhere. We hadn’t seen a cloud before the first drop pelted us. We ran like mad to get the tent up when I realized I had forgotten the poles. We ended up scrambling five miles down to our families’ camp in sheets of rain, up to our ankles in mud.
    Most guys would’ve been pissed. Jase just said, “Yeah. I could’ve brought them, too. Whatever.”
    That’s the kind of stuff I would’ve written about. It says a lot more about a person than being on the honor roll.
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    â€œWhat would you have written, Kyle?”
    â€œSomething else. Something real.”
    Then we had another one of those awkward silences when Dr. Matthews waited for me to keep talking but I didn’t.
    She cleared her throat. “Your hearing is coming up soon. What are you feeling about that?”
    Maybe it would be easier for everybody not to see me anymore. I shrugged. “It’s not really up to me. After what I did and all, I guess it depends on the laws.”
    â€œWhat do you hope the outcome will be?”
    I deserve to be sent away. My life needs to be put on pause.
    â€œI guess I don’t hope for anything, you know? Just waiting.”
    â€œWaiting is