Chapter 3

The next day was our final day of lacrosse camp. Alyssa totally avoided me. No words. No eye contact. She pretended I wasn’t there. 

I pretended I wasn’t there either as I faded into the background and let the others play.

It was at the end of the day with me alone in the locker room when she finally came up to me. I was still sitting there in my sweaty clothes, when she had already changed into clean ones.

“Hey,” she said.

I looked up. “Hey.”

“Are we still friends?” She asked, fiddling with her gym bag.

“I was wondering the same thing. You avoided me all day.”

“I didn’t know what to say. I mean. I just met you. You’re a literal stranger.”

“Well, we’ve been friends all summer. It was me you were texting all school year. It was me you played with on that field. It was me you hung out with at the pool. You’ve been friends with Cate for nearly a year.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know Cate. You were pretending to be Emma.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What have you been doing to find Emma?”

Ouch. “Nothing. I was told I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed.”

“Everything you’ve told me since yesterday supported the idea that… you don’t give a shit what you’re told.”

“That’s fair.”

“Then why?”

“At first I had a mission. I left it up to Max and the police to find her. Then I focused on protecting the friends I just made at school. And then… it was too late. The trail had gone cold. I swear, Alyssa, if I knew where she was, I’d find her and give her this body— this life back.”

She nodded silently.

It was quiet for several seconds before she looked me in the eye. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Alyssa asked.

“My funeral.”

That took her by surprise. “That’s… crazy. You’re going?”

“I should, right?”

“Do… do you want company?”

I was silent for a moment before I answered. “You don’t have to come. Sophia will be there.”

“I’m going then. Maybe Emma will show up.”

“I wish. But seriously, you don’t have to. I’ve avoided my share of funerals. Family members included.” I stood up. “I should head home. Wanna come over for a swim?”

“I’d like that.”

“Just a fair warning - Sophia’s staying with me. And she’s a… handful.”

Alyssa smiled for the first time since yesterday. “You two remind me of Wednesday and Enid.”

“Who?”

“A show on Netflix. I think you’d like it. Wednesday Adams investigates mysteries. Kinda like a detective.”

“Huh” I simply replied. I wasn’t much of a television watcher. “Emma’s parents have Netflix. Maybe I’ll check it out.”

“It’s weird hearing yourself talk about Emma in the third person.”

“It’s weird being called Emma all summer.”

As we walked out of the locker room, Alyssa asked, “So umm - Cate - tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What are your plans for the rest of the summer? For the upcoming school year?”

“Well, I plan on returning to PAA. I have friends there now. And they’re better than Emma’s parents. Besides, I have some unfinished business there with the administration. Originally my plan was to come back here and help my former colleagues track down my body and Emma. Well, I suppose now that we know where my body is, I should focus on finding Emma.”

“After you find her, what then?”

“We swap back. I don’t know how, but there’s plenty of people in the world who can help with that. I’d just have to find people willing to help at the risk of getting in trouble.”

“Then what?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. I had dreams of retiring. Maybe even settling down with a nice girl. Not in that order of course.”

We shared a brief moment of eye contact and she looked at me with sadness.

“I suppose those dreams aren’t possible anymore,” I added.

“You still can.”

“But that would deny Emma of her dreams.”

* * *

“I don’t understand why you're going to a funeral for a stranger,” Mrs. Kincade said to me from my bedroom doorway.

“He wasn’t a stranger. He was the one who found me at the train station,” I reminded her. I was scanning my closet for something appropriate for a funeral. Is funeral-casual a thing? “I’d be dead if he let me on that train.” Or trafficked. A fate perhaps worse than death.

“I remember him. He came over to ask your father and me about you. He was kind of an asshole.”

“Mom, please.” The last thing I needed was to listen to my surrogate mother bad-mouth my former body.

“But a police funeral?”

“What’s wrong with that? Dad has a thin blue line bumper sticker on his car.” 

“It’s just that - you going to a police funeral? You’re the same girl who only two years ago was chanting ‘Defund the Police.’”

Huh. I didn’t know that about Emma. That likely explains why she ran from me. “Me wanting police reform, and me paying respect to a man who laid down his life for me can both be true.”

“Whatever happened that day?”

“I told you. I made a mistake. I was going to see a stranger I met online. I was stupid. Real stupid. Detective Baker saved me.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Kincade barely ever acknowledged the events that set this body swap in motion. God forbid they acknowledge that they compelled their daughter to run away. Or that they sent me to a boarding school. Even if the latter was my suggestion.

No, they tell their close friends that I was enrolled in a prestigious private school. There’s no family drama here.

I turned around to eye Sophia who was lying on my bed, minding her own business. I kinda wanted her to help change the subject, but she seemed determined to let me fight my own battle here. 

Mrs. Kincade got the hint that I wasn’t talking about this anymore and left.

I continued to dig through the closet looking for proper funeral attire. Emma’s closet had a distinct lack of slacks and pants. I needed help. I wasn’t about to ask Mrs. Kincade. I could also ask Sophia, but that sounded like more trouble than it was worth. Back at school, whenever I asked her for fashion advice, she picked out the most feminine outfits possible.

Thankfully there was one other female opinion in this household I could solicit.

“Carmen, what do I wear to a funeral?” I asked our housekeeper, who had just passed my bedroom while walking down the hall.

Carmen came in, scanned the closet and pulled out a black dress on a hanger. “This will look pretty on you, Miss Emma.”

The last thing I wanted was to look pretty, so I took the hanger as if it had cooties while Carmen continued on her way. I didn’t want to go to my own funeral in a dress.

I saw Sophia giggling on my bed.

“What?” I asked.

“Carmen’s got good taste. I would’ve picked that one, too.”

“But, it’s a dress,” I protested.

“Cate, we go through this every time you have to wear a dress. Eventually you cave in.”

“But that’s at PAA. And I’m with friends.”

“Nobody there is going to know you're a dude in a dress - except your friend Max - and he’s already seen you in a bikini top. So, I think you’re good.”

I sighed. “Let’s get this over with. What are you wearing?”

“I brought a dress with me. It’s not black. I don’t own black.”

“What color is it?”

“Navy blue. It’s the darkest dress I own.”

I shut the bedroom door and Sophia and I slipped into our dresses. Naturally, I needed her help to zip it up.

My dress came down to my knees. I knew I should wear pantyhose, but it’s summer and the thought of putting on nylon death traps in this heat didn’t sound pleasurable.

Sophia wore her navy blue dress with rainbow arm warmers to hide her scars. I knew she had other colors of armwarmers, but I didn’t complain.

Carmen knocked on the door. “Miss Emma, you have a guest.”

“We’re decent,” I called as I was dancing around on one foot putting on my flats.

The door opened and Aylssa came in wearing her own black dress.

“Oh, Alyssa, I said you didn’t have to come,” I reminded her as I finished putting on the flats.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to your funeral?” she replied, walking into the room.

I let out an exhausted sigh. “Thank you.”

Alyssa took that as a sign to come over and hug me. “I’m sorry. I’m here for you.”

“Group hug!” Sophia said, wrapping her arms around us.

“Plus,” Alyssa said after the hug. “I mean - I suppose you’re my only connection to Emma.”

I grinned forlornly. That wasn’t necessarily a ringing endorsement.

Mrs. Kincade poked her head into the room. “Are you girls ready?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

* * *

Mrs. Kincade parked the car and let us out. She stayed in the car as Sophia, Alyssa, and I walked through the cemetery.

I kept telling myself this was just any old funeral. One where I’d go, give my condolences to the bereaved, say hi to some people I know, and see what kind of food they had afterwards. Focusing on that, allowed me to ignore who this funeral was for.

In the movies, funerals are often depicted as dark, rainy and cold. Today was the opposite. Bright, sunny, and oppressively hot.

The funeral service was hard to miss as police in dress uniforms were gathered around a tent.

As we got closer we found the receiving line. At the end of the line was Max and Cheryl— my ex wife.

“Is that your family?” Sophia asked.

“Well... I mean...” I stuttered. “You’ve met Max. He was my boss and best friend. Next to him is… my ex-wife.”

“Your ex-wife?” Alyssa asked. “I forgot you said you were married.”

“Was,” I replied. “I am divorced.”

“And only fifteen,” Sophia giggled.

I looked at Cheryl. She was just as gorgeous as the day our divorce was finalized. A part of me had held out hope of reconciling with her. Showing her I’m a changed man. Having been trained the past eleven months not to leave the toilet seat up, for example.

“What’s so funny?” Alyssa asked.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Are you OK?” Sophia asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I thought of something funny.”

Sophia gave me a very judgemental glance.

“Do you have kids?” Alyssa asked me.

“No, I don’t,” I replied sadly. “We talked about it a few times. “I had this idea that I could prove to the world I could be a better father than my own. 

“How old were you?”

“Forty-two,” I replied. 

“Geez,” she remarked. “You’re older than my parents.”

“Thanks a lot, Alyssa. I’m not that old.”

Alyssa giggled, then stopped when she realized we’re at a funeral. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just go pay our respects, then get out of here,” I suggested, taking a deep breath and smoothing down the front of the black dress. I hate dresses. My legs felt so exposed.

We started walking toward the line. It was moving slowly, punctuated by solemn embraces and hushed words. I looked around. Most people were former co-workers I recognized from having worked with them over the years.

That’s all I really expected. After all, my parents were deceased and I had no siblings so I didn’t expect any family—

“Aunt Cate,” I mumbled. The older woman was dressed in her own dress uniform and sitting in the front row flanked by a man and a woman, both in their 40s and in uniform. She had been retired for years at this point, and not only had she inspired my name but she was also the inspiration for me to join the force.

“That woman is your aunt?” Sophia asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who’s with her?” Alyssa asked.

“I guess… my cousins.” 

“You don’t know?” Sophia asked.

“I haven’t seen my cousins since I was a kid myself. Aunt Cate and my father didn’t get along. By the time I joined the police academy, he had already cut her out of our lives. But Aunt Cate was still my inspiration for becoming a detective.”

“You never reached out when you were an adult?”

“No, I never did. I kept putting it off. There was always more time…”

“Do you want to go over and talk to her?”

“What do I say? I haven’t talked to her in decades.”

“You should always make the time,” Alyssa said. “You never know when it’ll be your last opportunity.”

I was staring at Aunt Cate when she looked back at me. We made eye contact. I wonder who she thinks this random teenager at her nephew’s funeral is? She then looked away at something else, seemingly disinterested. As if she didn’t see me. Of course she saw me. But she didn’t see me. I don’t know what I was expecting— that she’d take one look at me in Emma’s body and recognize me as her nephew? I sighed.

Should I go over there? I recalled this one time when my family moved to another house across town after living in it for twelve years. There were times when I would ride my bike to my former childhood house just to stare at it. There were kids in the yard playing. Playing on my old swing set. I could’ve gone over there and said “Hey, I used to live here, can I join?” But I didn’t, and instead watched, from a distance, a life I couldn’t return to.

When we finally reached Max, he managed a weak smile. He leaned down slightly, as if trying to speak quietly despite the surrounding noise.

“Thanks for coming, Cate,” he said, his eyes conveying a genuine depth of sympathy that went beyond the condolences he was receiving from the others. Present company aside, Max was the only one who knew Jack Baker was standing right here among the living and not lying in that casket.

"I wouldn’t miss it," I replied, trying to sound as composed as possible. "Thanks for inviting me."

Both Sophia and Alyssa offered their condolences to Max.

Next was Cheryl. She looked… older. The toll of the last few years was etched around her eyes. She wore a simple, elegant black dress, and her expression was one of dignified grief. I honestly didn’t think she’d be grieving? She was quite relieved when I walked out of her life for the last time.

“Hi,” I took her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She looked at me and cocked her head, confused as to why this teenage girl was standing in front of her. “Thank you. How did you know Jack?”

“Our paths crossed about a year ago,” I replied. “He saved my life.”

“Oh, wow. Umm. I wish he could be here to see how much of an impact he made,” she said, gazing around the crowd.

“I think he knows… I mean knew.”

“Hi, I’m Cheryl,” she introduced herself with a sad smile. “I’m Jack’s ex-wife.”

I already said, “Sorry for your loss,” maybe I should add, “Sorry for the win?” Instead I behaved in front of my ex and said nothing.

Cheryl must’ve noticed the look on my face. “I wish things had been different. Jack had many demons, and he had a hard time confronting them. They took a toll on our marriage.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s good to meet you,” she said with a sense of finality.

I didn’t know what more to say so I kept walking… but there was no one else. Which led me to the one place I never in a million years believed I’d be standing. Even earlier this morning. I knew but maybe I was still in denial of where I was actually going today.

I was in front of my own casket.

Next to the casket was a portrait of me - of Detective Jack Baker. In my best dress blues. I honestly hated that picture. It made me look like a Boy Scout with that clean shaven face and serious expression. The real me hated uniforms. Hated working the beat, and preferred the isolation of detective work.

My feet moved forward past the portrait, but my brain seized up. This was it. The physical proof that Jack Baker was no more. The end of my original life, placed neatly in a wooden box.

Against my best judgment, I looked down.

The face I wore for over 40 years was sunk in. Void of life. But it was my face. The pock marks I had when I was a teen. The scar on my chin from that bar fight. The nose that had been broken - twice. 

A wave of intense, suffocating heat washed over me. The dress suddenly felt like a straitjacket, the air too thick to breathe. My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate, frantic drumbeat.

You’re dead. You’re really dead. This is your end.

I gripped the edge of the casket to hold myself up.

Sophia was by my side in an instant. "Cate?" she asked, her voice a distant, alarmed sound.

I couldn’t answer. I could only gasp, clawing lightly at the neckline of the dress, trying to pull in a breath that wouldn’t come. My chest tightened painfully, and I leaned one hand heavily on the casket’s edge for support. I was hyperventilating - shallow, ragged breaths sawed in and out of my lungs.

Sophia said something. Her words were muffled as I couldn’t take my eyes off the corpse of my former body.

“No,” I cried. “It’s not me. I’m right here.”

Hands tried to pull me away, but I gripped the wooden box even tighter. I couldn’t let go. I wasn’t ready yet.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

I was the hero of this story.

I wanted to find Emma. To give her back this body. To go back to my own.

I was going to retire from the force.

I was going to live happily ever after with Cheryl.

I wanted kids.

I wanted to live.

I wanted…

I…

I…

* * *

Max helped Sophia and Alyssa rip me away from the casket. I stopped putting up a fight as I was led through the cemetery and back to Mrs. Kincade’s waiting car. My head was down so as to not look at the funeral mourners gossiping over the scene I had just made.

We got to the car and Mrs. Kincade opened the door for us.

At that moment, I was shook by the sound of the rifle blanks ringing out across the field.

Another round.

I collapsed right there and wept as the final round rang out; effectively, deliberately, and permanently closing that chapter of my life.