"There is Mike." I told him. "There is."
"Yeah?" He said cynically. "Name one."
There was only one that I could think of. It was one that was well within reach of Mike if he would only graduate from school. "A fireman."
"A fireman?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "Firemen work twenty-four hour shifts ten days a month. That leaves twenty days off a month. When they're on shift they have beds, TVs, lounge chairs to sit in, all the amenities of home. They get to sleep while they're on the clock. And they make damn good money, much more than they deserve to."
He was turning the idea over in his mind. I could see him doing it and I felt the first ray of hope. Was I finally getting through to him a little?
"And you know what the best thing about being a fireman is?" I asked.
"What?"
"The public fuckin' worships you. You can do absolutely no wrong. And women dig firemen in a bad way. They'll practically drop down and give you head right there."
He was definitely interested now.
"The requirements are that you're eighteen and have a high school diploma. You also have to be able to pass a physical agility test, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem for you. You're in good shape."
"Are you sure about this?" He asked.
"Dude." I told him. "If you can just graduate you'll be in."
"No shit." He said softly.
"Look Mike, if you just work through this year you'll have it made. The school has a work-study program for seniors and fire technology is one of the classes. If you can hang in until then and bring your grades up to a 2.0 average you can go to the ROP classes. That means you'll just have to take three classes each day and then you'll spend the rest of the day hanging out at a fire station somewhere. You'll get to go to calls with them and watch them work and it'll look damn good on your application after you graduate."
He soured a little. "There's no way I'll get my grades up to a 2.0. I'm workin' on straight F's now."
"I'll help you with your work." I promised. "Just come over after school," I paused and then amended, "Well, after my Dad gets home that is, and I'll help you with your work. You can do it if you just go to school each day."
He shook his head. "I haven't spent a whole day in school for the last year.
I'm not sure I can do it."
"You CAN." I insisted. "Dude you're only seventeen years old. You have the rest of your life in front of you. How hard will it be to spend six hours in school for another couple of months? If you work at it we can bring your grades up and you'll be almost free next semester. A year of ROP and only going to three classes and you'll graduate. You start applying at fire departments and one of them will take you. It's not that long and it's not that high of a price, is it?"
"I guess not." He said.
It was touch and go for a while. Mike told his parents his decision to stay in school and they accepted it dubiously. However when his parents told the school counselor to withdraw the application for independent study they met some resistance. According to Mike, she tried her damnedest to get him and his parents to change their minds. She nearly begged he told me. But in the end he stuck to his guns and his parents stuck to theirs. The application was withdrawn and Mike stayed in high school.
As I promised I helped him with his homework. There was some friction at first when he discovered that I wasn't planning to DO his homework for him but to help HIM do it. There was also some friction when he didn't show up a few times so he could go get stoned with someone. I talked to him plainly about this, explaining that I would only continue to help him if he showed up each day. He was morose about it but agreed. His attendance at my study sessions improved remarkably.
His attendance at school also improved. Though he whined about it to the point of genuine annoyance on my part, he faithfully showed up to classes each day, only occasionally cutting out for a session with a marijuana pipe or something.
By the end of the first month of our studying together, study sessions in which Nina was a frequent participant, he began to catch on to his work and actually began to complete more of his assignments in school. I felt I'd done well with him and my satisfaction was great.
As the end of the school year drew closer I worried incessantly about Tracy.
This was the point that she was scheduled to die. All of the signs told me I'd steered her away from that path. When Lisa Sanchez, the cheerleader, began making friendship overtures to Tracy, she'd been almost rude in her rejection of them. The friendship that eventually evolved into the foursome that was fated to drop into the river never flourished. As a result, Tracy never went to the party where she would meet the football player that would cause her death. Instead she stayed close friends with Cindy, another deviation from the previous path. When Tracy had begun hanging out with Lisa before, the relationship with Cindy had faded away. But despite all this I was worried. Again, I did not know the rules involved here. Was fate absolute? Would Tracy end up dying one way or another simply because she was scheduled to?
On the other hand I did have some indication that things were not pre-destined. Mike was a shining example. As May began winding down towards June and the end of the school year, he was still enrolled in school, was in fact working his grades upward to the C average. This was something that had not occurred before. Mike gave me hope that I'd succeeded in saving Tracy.
The end of the school year came. Mike got his report card and it showed his year's average to be 2.1. He was qualified to go into ROP the next year. He didn't give me much in the way of thanks but I understood. It wasn't in his nature. I received tremendous satisfaction from his accomplishment anyway.
Tracy graduated. I dressed in my suit and attended the ceremony with my parents. Though my sister and I had never talked about my prediction for her fate on that night since the first time, it was obvious she remembered what I'd said. She was perhaps the only member of her graduating class to go home with her parents after the ceremony. She took off her dress and went to bed early.
When I got up the next morning I staggered downstairs and found her sitting in her pajamas in the living room. The television was on, tuned to the local morning news program. Dad and Mom had already gone off to work so we were alone in the house. I can't begin to tell you how glad I was to see her there. She was alive, still drawing breath a day AFTER she'd died in her previous life. Things could be changed!
My elation was dampened a little as I got a good look at her. I could see immediately that she was upset. Her face was pale and she was trembling.
"What's the matter Trace?" I asked carefully.
"I've been watching the news." She told me slowly, turning a pair of haunted eyes to my face.
"Yeah?"
"There was an accident last night." She said. "Near the falls."
I felt all the spit in my mouth suddenly dry up. My arms broke out in goose bumps. "Was there?"
She nodded. "A Camero with four people in it crashed into the river. Lisa Sanchez was killed. She drowned in the car."
I was speechless as I listened to her, numb with shock.
"There were other people in the car." Tracy went on. "A guy named David Mitchell was driving. He's a football player at the college. Another football player named Rick Manchester was also in the car. Rick was Lisa's boyfriend. And there was one other girl in there. Barbie Langston, she's David's girlfriend."
"What happened to her?" I asked unsteadily.
"She got out. Lisa was the only one killed."
"Wow." I whispered, trying to figure out what that meant. Barbie was a cute redhead who had found her way to my bedroom last summer during my 'male slut' period. She had been installed in Tracy's place when Tracy did not meet and begin dating David Mitchell. She had lived. Why? Was it because she had lived past graduation in the previous life? Was she simply a better swimmer? Was there any meaning to be found with her non-death?