
Ascent
Amy L. Kinzer
Copyright 2011 Amy Kinzer Smashwords Edition
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Matt
I hate the sound of crashing metal. Screeching tires. Brakes. I hate rain and dark skies and the smell of cheap beer. I might be the only guy who hates beer. It's been a year since I've had a beer.
I hate groups.
I hate my life.
The thing is, I took all those stupid alcohol prevention classes that our school offered. But that crap happens to someone else. I didn't know anyone who died. No, I mean I didn't know anyone who had died that didn't hold an AARP card in his wallet. Grandpa died from heart failure when I was a sophomore.
The one thing everyone knows, but the court system couldn't prove, was that the accident was my fault. I never should have gotten behind the wheel after the party. I knew the minute I turned the key that I shouldn't have offered to drive. I wasn't fine. The courts let me off though, gave me a little pat on the head and told me to have a nice life. Go play football or join the Party. That's what guys like you do. Popular guys. Guys who are athletic.
Now, if I could just turn off my brain then I'd be able to just move along and not have a care in the world.
But I can't get the night out of my head.
It's stuck in my brain.
It's burned on the back of my retinas, where I have to look at it forever.
It spins in a circle, a video playing in my head that I can't turn off. I want to turn it off. God, if there is anything I want to do more than turn off the video in my brain I would flip the switch and make it end. I'd rather watch Peter Pan with my kid brother twenty times a day then a replay of that night.
Mom keeps telling me it's okay. Not to think about it anymore. It's over, it was an accident, I didn't mean for it to happen. You're not guilty! The courts found you innocent. Just move on with your life. You can't change the past. You can't go back and change what happened. There's no reason to keep thinking about it, stressing over it, replaying the whole thing in your mind.
Everything in life is relative. I'm sure everyone has something in their life they wish they could go back and change. For me, there's nothing else.
It's why I'm going to the Institute for Youth Development's training program.
I want another chance.
\*\*\*
I'm sitting on my bed when I hear a knock on the door. It could be only one of three people and I know which person I prefer.
I don't say anything at first. Instead, I get up and start taking clothes from my closet and transferring them to my suitcase. If I could, I'd pack everything I own and never come back. But I doubt it matters anyway. After my summer at IYD I won't need my belongings anymore.
Another knock on the door that I ignore. I don't want whoever's on the other side intruding.
"Matt?" It's Mom. Not the person I prefer, but not Dad either. Dad's worst. "Can I come in, dear?"
I hesitate. I just want to be left alone until I leave. I don't have anything to say. "I'm busy packing."
A pause. "Please, dear? I just want to talk to you for a few minutes."
I walk over and open the door. She's on the other side with that worried look she wears on her face any time she's around me now. It's like she doesn't know what to say or how to act in my presence. I'm a stranger and a disappointment. Violet's mom used to be her best friend.
I've ruined all kinds of relationships.
I motion my arm, welcoming her into my room. "Come on in."
"It's so clean in here." She looks around and takes in the room I've been living in my whole life. She looks uncomfortable. No one acts normal around me anymore. Her eyes fall on a photo of Violet and I from prom. They linger for a moment before she takes a seat on my bed.
I go back to packing. I can't wait to get out of this place. "Yeah? Well... I didn't want to leave a mess."
She pauses and examines the empty walls, looks at the spots where the trophies used to be. Those are packed away now. The worried expression she wears on her face grows like a disease. I try to ignore all the pain I've caused in her life. It makes me feel too ashamed. "You don't have to go, you know. You can stay here. I spoke to your dad. Football camp is such a better option for you. We can have your brother apply to the school when he's old enough. I'm not sure if you're ready for this kind of stress." She takes a deep breath and lets out a loud sigh, the kind of sigh that tells me she can barely deal with this anymore. "We'd love it if you'd stay."
We, or you? I think, but I don't say it. Conversations with my parents about my feelings are over as far as I'm concerned. And I'm not going to have my brother take the fall for me. He doesn't want to attend IYD. Going to school to be a Party member means giving up everything else in your life.
And I'm the one with nothing left.
"I'm the one they want," I mumble. "Plus, I know how important attending IYD is to Dad. I should go. It will make everything better for the family." I don't want Mom to cry. I can't deal with any more crying. I've had enough with hugs and crying to last me a lifetime. And I don't want her to worry that I might not come back. I wish she'd just leave, but she doesn't make any move to get off my bed.
"I... your dad... We just want you to be happy. Accidents happen all the time. Sometimes they happen in the most unfortunate manners. But you can't spend your whole life torturing yourself over something you can't change. Your friends wouldn't want you to go on like this."
Over something you can't change. That's where she's wrong. I can make a change. It's the only reason I'm traveling to Las Vegas to attend IYD.
"There's nothing to worry about, Mom. I'm going to IYD because I want to. It's a great opportunity. Our lives will be so much better if I become a Party member. Really, I don't have a choice."
She folds her hands in her lap and stares at them. I imagine her mind is swirling a million thoughts around in circles -- her synapses trying to think of just the right thing to say -- but she thinks better than to spit any of them out. Instead she stands up and smiles.
"Okay. We support any decision that you make, Matt."
Then she walks out of the room.
Rick
The area was empty.
And then it wasn't.
Governmentontherun81 alerted me to it in the forums on Conspiraciesrus.com. Quadrants are: 35 degrees north, 117 degrees west. I'm sure it's Area 31, Area 51's twin sister.
I zoom in. It's a tent. There are guards around it. They're armed with assault rifles. People who look like ants are building a fence around the tent. I eat popcorn and drink Coke while I watch the men work in the dark of night, hoping to not be detected.
They don't know the group they think is protecting them is the one that allows me to watch.
It's easier like this. Watching. They watch us. You think I'm paranoid? I'm not. There's proof of it everywhere: the red light in the fire alarm is a camera, the dropped call is a bug in your phone, the guy that delivers the mail is a government spy. Cable companies know what we're watching. You think Facebook was created by some asshole at Harvard? That asshole is on the government payroll.
I examine the camera at the top of my computer. It's the size of a pinhead. I know they can dial in and watch what I'm doing. And those little dots aren't just on the top of my computer, either. They're everywhere.
They're recruiting for their development program. I know because Jonathan Martin heard about it in the forums. I applied. Everyone with an aptitude for science or leadership applied. This summer, high school juniors and seniors chosen to spend a summer at the Institute for Youth Development will be eligible to join the Party after successful completion of the program. The institute is run by the Party. I'm not supposed to know that but I do.
See, people don't know these things because they don't know where to look. Do you know how I learned about Area 31? I was watching Area 51. Only a few of us know how to dial into the satellites that allow you to spy on pretty much anything you want. I was looking for aliens and I zoomed out and started looking around the desert when I found it. Construction workers are on location, but only at night. Armored vehicles patrol the area. It's supposed to be under wraps.
And there's something else I'm looking for in the middle of the desert. I started doing research when I heard the rumors: Marvin Winn, the richest casino owner in the world, has reportedly found vortexes that can take you back in time.
They're doing research this summer. The government wants to develop a training program for future Party members. The government wants to move away from the dual party system. According to the government, Americans don't need more choice: they need someone to tell them what to do.
Biggest complaint? Jobs. Don't have a job? The Party will find you one.
Want an education? The Party will tell you where to go to school.
Need a place to live? The Party will find you a home.
But they need leaders, and scientists, actors, actresses, writers, developers. They need only the brightest.
And I want to be one of them.
I'm waiting for my gold envelope. Because it's coming -- it has to come. I'm the perfect candidate.
I watch the digital clock on my computer tick towards midnight. I saw the news. Fourteen of the fifteen trainees have been chosen. I still have a chance to be number fifteen and eight minutes remain until the deadline.
I have to be invited to attend IYD. If I'm chosen I'll get to join the Party and learn the government's secrets. I'll find out the truth. It's what I'm looking for: the Truth.
But I don't have a clean background. I've done things, and I know the Party does a background check. But no one has a perfect past. I've hacked things. Like the satellites that gave away Area 31. It's why the Party wants me and why they don't. I'm smart. But I'm also a rule breaker.
I watch the seconds tick by on the clock. I flip on the official Party channel. No news. One spot is still open. The woman on the TV with the frozen forehead and a perma smile is counting down the minutes until midnight, waiting for the last selection. I still have a chance.
I tap my fingers against my desk, counting down the seconds. I imagine them spying on me from Party headquarters. And maybe that's why they're making me wait. I look right into the camera on my computer and smile. I want them to know I can handle stress. I can handle anything. I take a deep breath and stop tapping my fingers.
Even though I'm expecting it, I jump at the sound of the doorbell. It's 11:56 PM. It has to be them.
I rush to the door. Mom stands next to it, her eyes as large as saucers. I open the door and a man in khaki pants and stiff jacket with a belt around the waist stands on the patio. Behind him are two security guards with assault rifles at their waists. On the pocket of his jacket is a pin of the American flag.
The flag has only one star.
"Richard Holden, you are hereby advised to report to Winn Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada to attend the Institute of Youth Development. IYD is a Party-run facility where you will train to become a Party member. You are hereby advised that anything you learn about the Party or IYD is the intellectual property of the Party and sharing this information is considered treason, punishable by life in jail or death."
He hands me a gold envelope. Everyone knows what the gold envelope means.
You're one of the chosen.
"You will report to Boeing Field tomorrow to take a private plane to Nevada. Pack all your personal items. If you're accepted for Party membership you won't be coming back."
I turn the envelope over. It catches the light and the glitter makes me squint. The envelope is coated in 24 carat gold. The back of the envelope has a single star. I move the envelope back and forth, catching the light, and it casts beams across the room.
I'm one of the lucky ones.
Then the Party member salutes me and walks back to the van that is parked in front of our house. I look around, expecting news cameras or reporters, but the street is empty. They were able to show up at my house undetected.
Mom stands frozen after they're gone. I can see the fear in her eyes. I'm an only child. If Mom had her way she'd lock my bedroom door and never let me out.
"Well then, maybe you should get packed. They don't give you much time, do they?"
I shake my head. "They don't want you to share information with anyone. I'll leave first thing in the morning."
"Stay out of trouble while you're there, do everything they say, stay off their computers ..."
I know what Mom's referring to. Of course I do. Occasionally I get in ... trouble. But I'm willing to put that behind me now. And the Party can make it all go away.
"I won't screw this up, Mom. I want to be a member of the Party. I'll do exactly what they say. And I'll stay in touch. I'll call you whenever we're allowed to make phone calls."
She breathes a sigh of relief. She looks like the entire earth has been lifted from her shoulders. Like someone took the world away from Atlas.
I have a burst of energy even though it's after midnight. "I'm going to pack."
Mom looks the same, like she could stay up for days. "That's great. I'll call your father and let him know the news."
\*\*\*
In my room I open a suitcase and start packing. I don't need much. The Party has everything. If I pass the initiation I'll be provided with the Party's uniform. As a Party member, I'll have access to the world.
I pack clothes and technical manuals. I can't wait to get to Las Vegas and find out all the Party's secrets. It's my big opportunity to find the answers. I know what they do out there in Las Vegas. I've been reading about it in internet forums my entire life.
Jonathan is the leader of Gov Cons, short for government conspiracies. But we call ourselves Cons for short, like conspirators. We started as a group of guys with high IQs who liked computers and math. We troll Internet chat rooms looking for conspiracies. The more research I did, the more I realized that not everyone who hangs out in Internet chat rooms is a total loon. What I realized is that some of the people in those chat rooms are on to something.
I have a theory. The theory came to me while I was watching the men working on the facility in the middle of the desert far away from civilization. They drive Hummers with special tires because there are no roads. They only work at night.
I know what they're hiding.
I've heard the rumors. On June 2, 1978 an unidentified object was spotted flying over Eastern Washington. The object appeared several nights in a row, hovering over the Hanford Nuclear Plant before it sped straight up into the sky and disappeared. People who worked at the plant started talking and the government sent out a research team to look into the object.
That's where things got weird.
A man with a ranch far outside of Richland was checking on his cattle at 3 AM. The cattle had been acting strangely and he was worried someone was trying to herd them away. He went out to the pasture and saw something.
No one believed him when he said he saw three human-like beings who were about four feet tall with glowing sapphire eyes. As soon as he saw them he sped home in his truck and called the police. The police thought he'd been drinking and didn't send anyone out.
As soon as there was daylight, he went back out to the field. He found prints in the grass that looked like small feet with only three toes. And four of his cows were missing.
The next day military vehicles showed. He drove out to the end of his property to watch the military caravan. When his cattle started acting strange he looked into the sky. A football shaped ship hovered over his pasture. But this time he wasn't alone: the military were there. They shot at the ship and blasted it with what he described as some type of laser before it crashed to the ground. The farmer watched them examine the ship. A huge truck drove out to the field and they drove the ship away.
It happened so long ago that now it's like a folktale, but I don't think it is one. My grandpa told me he saw the ship too. Grandpa was one of the few people in town who really believed.
And he took a cast of their footprints to prove it.
But that's not the only reason I believe.
My grandfather was a believer. He grew up with the rumors about the ape-like humans who lived in the mountains in far Eastern Washington. Grandpa didn't like people. People were difficult. Grandpa liked nature and quiet. Moving into the mountains away from people and in search of the truth fit him perfectly.
We stopped hearing from Grandpa when I was fifteen years old. We called him on Father's Day and on his birthday. No answer, both times. Finally, we drove up to his cabin in the deep woods. When we arrived it was covered in a layer of dust and all the food in the house had rotted. The smell was so bad that at first we thought we'd find Grandpa's body.
But the house was empty.
We called the police and reported him missing. Grandpa had been living by himself for years and no one had seen him for months.
While we were there, Mom and Dad decided to clean up the place. I guess they knew, even though they filed an official missing person report, that wherever he went off to, he wasn't coming back. I wandered into his study. The few times we visited Grandpa he brought me in the room and showed me pieces of wood he had been carving and flies he tied for his fishing lines. I guess I was looking for some sort of clue of what happened to him.
He told me stories about a creature that roamed the woods.
Grandpa was convinced he had seen Bigfoot. He told me of a creature, like a man, that was nearly seven feet tall. That it smelled like it hadn't bathed in its lifetime. That there was a family of the creatures that hid in the woods.
The same woods that were his home.
I knew Grandpa had a box of photographs he kept hidden in his study. Half-listening to Mom's and Dad's voices coming from the kitchen, I started rummaging through the room. They were discussing the fact that Grandpa shouldn't have been living alone. I opened a drawer and found an old cigar box with what looked like a hundred rubber bands holding the box closed.
Inside the box were photographs taken in the woods.
Photos of the creature Grandpa told me about. Bigfoot. In the distance, next to the lake down the road from Grandpa's place, was the creature he had told me about on so many occasions.
I grabbed the box of photos and hid it under the seat of the car while Mom and Dad worked in the kitchen.
I still have the box and now I'm looking for the answers.
\*\*\*
When I finish packing my clothes I open the closet. Jonathan gave me a few items to sneak into my suitcase so I'll be able to contact the group while I'm in Las Vegas.
I still have the box from Grandpa hidden in the deep confines of my closet -- a place where not even my mom would dare to look. I open the box and take out the picture that has always stuck with me. It's the clearest of the photos. The creature is sitting on a rock by the lake. Almost as if it's resting. On the back of the photos is Grandpa's clear handwriting.
Government trucks came, July 18, 1997.
Did they take to Area 31?
Area 31. I'm sure the area is under control of the Party.
Grandpa considered himself an investigator of the truth. He knew the government took the ship somewhere. And he knew Bigfoot was real.
Now I believe I know where they took the proof.
And now I get to be one of them. I have the gold envelope to prove it. I was expecting to be invited. I have no other choice.
You have to be a member of the Party.
It's the only way out.
Farrah-Kate
I've watched this scene a million times.
She reminds me of a woman from a 1970s Good Housekeeping magazine. The kind of magazine that's kept in the back of the public library, covered in dust, locked in a room for anyone ancient enough to care about faded bell-bottoms and Farrah Fawcett hair. Not that anyone goes to a library these days. She reminds me of Jill Munroe from Charlie's Angels. Of course no one my age can put the name to the face. She was always the second-class version of so many famous actresses. It's how I got my name, after all. She couldn't resist the combination of Farrah Fawcett and Kate Jackson.
In the glow of the TV I watch her walk across the hotel room and answer the phone. Her brow furrows, she places the phone in the cradle, listens to a voice, then hangs up. A man comes up behind her with a knife and lifts it above her head. She turns and screams.
It's my favorite part and night after night, once dad's gone to bed, I pop in the scratched DVD and watch this scene.
This is how I remember my mother.
\*\*\*
The movie was actually filmed before I was born. It seems like a lifetime ago. At least it was for me. It was before everything changed. Back when people watched movies and families played in parks. At one time my mom was a famous star, hounded by paparazzi and recognized around the world. But then she married Dad and had me. I feel like I remember her well, but when I picture her I realize it's the woman in the films, the films I watch over and over. Looking at her face, examining my own in the mirror. I have her nose and Dad says we share the crinkles under our eyes. Some days I stand in front of the mirror for hours, smiling back at myself, just hoping for the crinkles to appear. I remember her from pictures, the photographs I have stashed away, a photo album of us together. She's a woman stuck in a time warp. But when I try to remember her smell, or her touch, it's gone.
I wish I could meet her one more time, so I could have a better memory of her, something more than movie clips. But that's going to change. I received my gold envelope. I've been invited to attend the Leadership Development program at IYD run by the Party. Their brochure says: Join the brightest minds in scientific research and exploration and develop skills to be the world's next leaders!
Now I know most people think the Party is only for the rich -- the people that want to keep their tax rates at zero. But the Party is more than just money. Being a member of the Party is your way into Hollywood, to best jobs, and -- if the rumors are right -- it's the key to returning to your past, a way to make all your wrongs right again.
Nobody understands why an aspiring actress would care about a political party. But they don't understand my motivation. What I want more than anything is another chance with my mother.
"You're up late."
I turn around, startled, and see Dad standing in the hallway, watching me in the dark. He's wearing flannel pajamas that haven't been washed in weeks. Dark circles underline his eyes. I swear he's been wearing the same clothes to bed every night since Mom died. And I know he's worried about me leaving for Las Vegas.
I click stop on the DVD player and nothing happens. I hit it two more times but the batteries in the remote must be dead. It's too late anyway. I'm caught, and Dad's always telling me it's not healthy for me to watch this movie so many times.
"Farrah, you should get to bed. You don't want to miss your flight in the morning. You need to be alert for orientation. I'm pretty sure the esteemed professors at IYD don't like sleepy kids."
"I won't, Dad. I'll drink some Red Bull before I get on the plane."
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You know you shouldn't drink that stuff; it's not healthy, it'll stunt your growth." Apparently Dad didn't get the memo that girls stop growing when they're like twelve. There's a lot Dad doesn't understand about me.
His brow furrows as he looks past me to the TV. "Are you watching that again? I thought we agreed we'd put the movies away so they don't get ruined." He walks into the room towards the TV and I cringe. "We only have a couple of copies of this movie and it's hard to find." He hits eject and the machine makes a loud clunking sound and squiggly lines move across the screen. Finally, the DVD pops out and he places it in a cover with Mom's face screaming on the front. "You should get to sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." A slight pause, then he adds, "A long summer." He turns to leave the room.
"Okay, I'll see you in the morning."
He pauses and turns back towards me, trying to examine my face through the dark room. "Are you sure want to do this? You don't have to, you know."
For a second I want to admit why I'm going. Why I'm changing everything and leaving behind everything I know to attend IYD. But I don't. There are codes that the trainees must follow. Receiving the envelope puts me under their rules. "Dad, it's the best thing I can do for our future."
The room falls silent. If not for his figure in the doorway I would think I was alone.
"Suit yourself."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone in a room illuminated by TV snow.
Matt
Mom drops me off at Boeing Field at 8 AM. I'm waiting in a special area for the private plane that will take us out to Las Vegas. Rain drips on the other side of the window. Clouds race by. I'm sure it's the last time I'll see rain.
I'm not sure why we have to fly out of Boeing field to Las Vegas. Something about there being only a couple of private planes that were able to take the students to IYD.
I'm not the only person at the airport. There's some crazy dude talking my ear off. I'm not surprised. Only the best and the brightest are chosen to attend IYD.
And, of course, with the best and the brightest comes the crazy.
We're standing in the terminal waiting for the private plane that will take us to Las Vegas. He's wearing skinny jeans and a shirt that could use an iron with huge sunglasses that I'm sure he thinks makes him look like some type of star. A Party star. It's actually kind of funny if you think about it.
It turns out that my fellow student is quite the character. Some genius guy with a passion for science and mathematics and research from the dark corners of Internet chat rooms. The guy's skin is so pale it looks like all he does is stay inside. And from the sound of things, he does: he's spent all his time researching online. He's going on and on about the Institute for Youth Development.
It's run by aliens, in case you're wondering.
"I can't wait to meet Dr. Thompson. I read he is the mastermind behind Bigfoot. You know that, right? It's all over the Internet. He was trying to splice DNA between humans and gorillas. Something about taking us back to our roots. Only the creatures escaped and have been breeding. There's supposedly a Bigfoot colony up north. I've been researching their location online, using satellites to track them down. After we graduate from the program I'm getting together with some of my friends and we'll be hiking out into the mountains during one of our school breaks, looking for where they're hiding. If we find them and are able to bring back photographic evidence, it will make us rich."
I nod my head, watching a business jet pull up to the tarmac. I've never been on a private plane. My once-upon-a-time future in football would have brought with it private planes. But that was a long time ago. Football for me is a thing of the past.
"Getting photos of Bigfoot would be a huge breakthrough."
Bigfoot.
That's just great.
"You're welcome to come with us. We could use another guy in case they're not friendly. Who knows what they'll be like, being part gorilla and all. They get big, like seven feet, and can weigh up to five hundred pounds. We could use a guy like you. We're leaving after graduation from IYD for our week-long break."
I shake my head. "Nah, that's okay. I don't think the Party is going to allow us off campus for our break. Once we're there, I'm pretty sure we're staying."
"Ah, yeah, you're probably right."
I'm half listening, half watching the other new blood standing around the terminal, and half looking for an escape at the same time.
I see her and it takes me a minute to realize who I'm looking at -- Farrah-Kate Ryan, daughter of Lynette Ryan. She walks into the terminal with her luggage and looks around with a lost expression on her face. She pulls out the pamphlet we all received in the mail. I watch her examine the pages with interest.
She looks so much like her mother: a younger Lynette Ryan. Lynette Ryan 2.0.
I wonder why she's here.
A girl like Farrah is the last person I would expect to join IYD. I imagine a lot of people could say the same of me. If you're not a member of the Party you end up at the bottom of the economic ladder. No one wants to be at the bottom. Not when you have a choice.
She looks around the room. Her gaze goes right over my head, searching for what to do next. She pulls her two enormous suitcases behind her. The wheels click-clack over the tile floor. Her blonde hair is tucked neatly behind her ear. She goes back to examining the pamphlet.
Farrah's one of those girls that everybody talks about, but no one really knows. I've seen her at house parties on the weekends, standing in the corner talking to her friends.
I'm pretty sure Farrah knows about that night.
I wasn't expecting to see anyone I know at IYD. The fewer people know about me, the better. I don't want someone blowing my cover and preventing me from doing what I need to do. I wanted to come here anonymously, to a place where no one knows what happened. I want to both change my past and run away from it at the same time, not be in a room where someone knows how big a fall the All-American football player of the year had.
But what I want more than anything is to fix what I did wrong. I can't believe how stupid I was that night. I can still see Violet's black hair draped across the floor of my car. Caked in blood. The screeching metal. And the silence.
The silence is what kills me. The silence breaks my heart. Every day I walk around in a haze, wondering why I'm really still here. Why is it that I'm the lucky one from that night who got to stay when everyone else had to leave? What did I do to deserve to continue on when everything ended that night?
It's slowly killing me.
And death would be a welcome ending.
And maybe that's what joining the Party is about. The ending of your life as you know it -- of your freedom -- of everything you ever wanted. You give it all up to become the flawless future leader -- a representative of the Party -- a person with a perfect past.
And if you don't go to the Party? Well, then there's nowhere else. There's no place left to go.
That's why it doesn't matter what happens at IYD. As long as I get a chance to go back, nothing matters at all.
Rick leans over and whispers, interrupting my thoughts. "Want to bet the girl who just walked in is some kind of spy? She's too cute to be at a place like IYD. I'd put fifty dollars on the fact she's Russian. I've got my eye on her. I won't let her destroy us."
I stifle a laugh. "You don't recognize her?"
Ricks brow furrows as he keeps his eyes on her. Wow, the guy really is paranoid. "No. Should I?"
"Remember Lynette Ryan from Taxi Driver?"
He nods his head. "Yeah."
"It's her daughter."
He pauses. Watching her from across the room. She looks lost with her blonde hair and tan skin that looks out of place against the backdrop of Seattle rain.
"I'll keep my eyes on her ... you know, just in case."
I stifle another laugh. "Okay, cowboy."
Outside the window the plane pulls up to the tarmac. Dark clouds push in and the rain grows heavier. I try to imagine the small plane punching through the clouds into the clear sky above. My stomach turns at the thought of riding in such bad weather. But it must be safe. The Party would never risk sending up their prized recruits if it wasn't.
I watch stairs roll out to the plane. Everything is happening. We're getting ready to leave. Rick leans over and whispers in my ear, "Take a look around: it's the last time you'll see it."
My eyes examine the empty terminal. A woman standing behind the counter offers me a weak smile. I wonder if she knows who we are or where we're going.
I doubt she'd even care.
Rick's voice breaks through the silence of the terminal. "Let's get this started. The government needs me."
At least my time at IYD comes with free entertainment.
\*\*\*
The smell of a new car hits me when we step on the plane. The plane is clean. The seats are like leather recliners. I follow Rick to the back of the plane and take a seat across from him on the aisle. The back of the seat in front of me has a flat screen TV. I look over my shoulder and can see a flight attendant in the galley putting cookies inside of an oven. When the engine starts to roll, the flight attendant walks to the front of the plane. She has straight black hair pulled back in a ponytail and bright red lipstick. She gives the three of us a broad smile. Her white teeth glow in the dim light.
"Welcome to Party Airlines, the premier airline in the US. You'll find many comforts on board. As soon as we get to cruising altitude you'll be able to plug in your earplugs and watch any of the Party-approved programming you'll find in the guide in the back pocket of the seat in front of you. I'll be providing refreshments and will do everything to make your flight comfortable."
Then she goes over the safety features of the plane before returning to the galley. A man with khaki pants tucked into the tops of his boots sits in the front of the plane in silence. He has a gun at his waist. He sits as tall and as straight as a board.
The plane's engines turn up and the sound of a steady hum fills the plane. I lean my head against the window and watch rain leaking from the sky. In the distance I see another plane climbing. Then our plane turns down the runway, begins to speed, and then, lifting off, follows suit.
Rick
The people here aren't what I expected -- at least not whom I've met so far. First off, there's some hot chick who I'm pretty sure is from Russia. She's not tall enough to be a model and she doesn't look like a politician. I have no idea why she's here.
She has to be a spy. There's no other possibility.
I should tell someone. Just in case. There's a guy in the front of the plane with a gun. He has to be some type of security guard. Making sure none of us go nuts on the way out of town. He should protect us if she's up to something.
I watch her from my seat here at the back of the plane. She's been watching a movie. An old movie. I don't recognize it. I don't know why anyone would want to watch one of those old brain suckers. They're meaningless. She doesn't talk to anyone. She leans her head against the window. I'm waiting for her to pull out a weapon or try to light her shoes on fire. But she just closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep. Maybe she's faking it.
Either way, I've got my eye on her.
You can't trust anyone.
And, of course, there's some football jock guy. I know why the Party wants guys like him. People like guys like him. Pedestrians want someone who they can relate to. Or people they want to be like. No wonder the Party has such a good chance of taking over power. It's like Americans don't even care about their country anymore.
Weaklings -- guys like Matt -- they're everything the old America used to stand for. And to win over the people who want America to go back to the way it used to be, the Party needs guys like Matt.
My insides turn with excitement. All my life I've known the Nevada desert holds the country's secrets. The others at IYD won't know what I know. Only Jonathan and I have seen the satellite photos. Have seen the work going on in the desert.
I wonder where we are over the country. I hit the button on the device in front of my seat and bring up the flight tracker. The plane is over northern Nevada. I look out the window and see the clouds thinning out until they disappear. We won't be flying over Area 31: it's south of Las Vegas. Unless the plane has to circle the airport, we won't even come close. Air traffic doesn't fly over Area 31. I've already checked.
My attention returns to the front of the plane. The spy sits back up to finish watching the movie. I look out the window and the wide-open desert approaches houses and then the Las Vegas Strip appears. I almost imagine dollars disintegrating into the sky.
The plane slows and I hear the landing gear drop.
My stomach jumps into my throat.
It's really happening.
I'm finally here.
At the home of the government's secrets.
\*\*\*
The plane comes to a stop and our flight attendant opens the door. Light fills the dim cabin, along with a blast of hot air. The spy hesitates, like she's not sure what to do, before she grabs a bag that looks like it weighs more than she does -- which isn't difficult: she's thin -- and then steps off the plane.
Matt follows her. Whereas I feel like all my electrons are jumping around inside of me, bursting in excitement, Matt looks like he's just woken from a long nap. He smiles at the flight attendant and then steps out the door.
I turn off my screen, grab my things, and follow the others outside.
The heat is like a blast from a hand dryer. I place my sunglasses over my eyes to block out the piercing glare.
The spy pulls her suitcase behind her on the way to a van that's waiting for us. There's a man, dressed similarly to the man on the plane, waiting outside the van. Matt is in front of me. He pauses and looks over his shoulder. When he sees me coming, he stops and waits.
"Excited?" he asks over the roar of a plane landing on the runway next to ours.
"Yeah, you?"
He shrugs. "Curious. I have no idea what to expect. This is only the second class they've had at IYD. Last year the others were sworn to silence. I heard they lost a member."
Ah yes, the rumors about Norris Chen floated around the forums when the word got out that IYD was accepting applications. Not everyone wanted to apply to a school that might end up being responsible for your demise.
"We're guinea pigs. Just remember that and you'll be fine."
I walk towards the van and step in. The spy glances my direction and returns to her magazine. I look over her shoulder. It's one of those glossy-paged magazines packed full of snapshots of movie stars walking around sunny California. Nobody cares about movie stars these days.
I buckle my seatbelt. The cool air from the air conditioning dries my face. Matt gets in and sits in the back row. The man in the khaki suit slides the door closed and gets in the driver's seat to take us to our temporary home.
Farrah-Kate
I sit in the front seat of the van in silence. None of us are sat together. My bag sits on the seat next to me while I watch the van turn down the street towards the Strip. The road is bumper-to-bumper cars. Taxis dart in and out of traffic. They drive so close to the van that I can see inside their vehicles. Everyone looks like they're having a good time.
It's a façade. The world is changing. People like to turn off the reality of life and Las Vegas is the perfect place to come to forget.
The sun drifts towards the horizon and the lights from the Strip glitter in the distance. Nostalgia crosses my mind for a moment. I think back to a vacation with Mom. I remember swimming in the pool. Mom loved to go to Las Vegas with her movie star friends. She used to sit at the edge of the pool in her movie star sunglasses while I splashed around in the pool. She made Dad watch me at night while she went out dancing with friends. I remember eating at buffets while Dad told me stories of his life growing up. Everyone looked so happy then.
It seems like a lifetime ago.
We approach an intersection and the driver moves into the right hand-lane. The sidewalks are filled with vacationers. The light turns green and a group of men walk into the road anyway. Our driver honks his horn and one of the pedestrians holds up his middle finger. The van lurches forward and the pedestrians scatter.
We ease our way through traffic towards the hotel. Flashing lights glow as the day's light disappears. All over America, people are eating dinner right now -- but here, this city, is just coming alive.
I wonder what I've gotten myself into.
I haven't spoken to anybody else. I don't know what to say. IYD is a stretch for me. I'm an actress, not a political prospect or a scientist. But I saw Matt Fenton here. And I'm not surprised. Matt was named All-American Athlete of the Year. The Party cares about sports and charisma. A guy like Matt is loaded with charisma. That's the one thing about the Party. They need entertainment recruits to be someone people can relate to. Everyone wants to be like Matt. Makes me wonder why I was asked to join the Party.
The van inches its way down the narrow street, past the crowds of people leaving their jobs at the casinos. Gamblers amble by, sure that luck is on their side tonight. They're oblivious to the fact that the newest political party in America has set up headquarters amongst them.
The van is inconspicuous. Anyone could be in it. Heads glance in our direction. I spot a boy in gray pants and a dirty t-shirt sitting next to his mom at a bus stop. He lifts a chubby arm in the air and waves.
I wave back and wonder if he can see me through the dark, tinted glass.
A girl sits on the bus stop bench next to them. The bus stop is covered with graffiti. Someone painted an American flag with a solo star on top. That's the Party's symbol. I'm pretty sure the girl is too young to be outside by herself. She's right on the edge of the seat, dangling her Mary Jane shoes a couple of feet from the ground. Her legs swing back and forth. She watches the van drive by like she's waiting for it to stop. It doesn't stop though. She's not on her way to IYD.
We pass casinos as we drive down the Las Vegas Strip. We pass the Bellagio to my left. The fountains spew water into the air. Music pushes through the tightly closed windows. I want to roll down my window, to take in the sights, to listen to the sounds... But I don't dare. I'm sure the windows are closed for a reason.
I try to imagine what Las Vegas was like when Mom was alive. She used to talk about those days. It's hard to even imagine how life used to be. My trips with her are a distant memory. Life was so exciting then, so full of possibilities. It's amazing how things change.
The van snakes its way towards the end of the Strip. To Winn Hotel. You can almost hear it slither...
\*\*\*
The Winn Hotel and Casino used to be the place to go in Las Vegas. Marvin Winn is the richest casino owner in the world. He's also the founder of IYD. Marvin is a firm believer that the US needs to keep up with the other countries in scientific research and youth development. When the Party was started, Marvin was one of the first contributors. It's the perfect political party for someone like Marvin. More people are joining the Party. With the way things are going in the US, it's no wonder. Even though the Party is run by the rich, it's the only party that ever comes up with solutions to our country's problems.
The bus takes a right and drives around the hotel. We pass a parking garage entrance. A security guard waves at our bus driver and our driver waves back. Delivery trucks are parked in the spaces that line the hotel.
For a minute I think we're heading back out to the road. But the bus makes a left and faces a cement wall. There's a large sign that says 'No Trespassing' on the front. I stand up to get off but the driver motions for me to sit back down. The driver pushes buttons on a keypad on the dash of the bus and the wall opens up. It reveals a room that looks like a brightly lit hangar. Once the bus drives inside, the wall closes behind us.
I look out the window at the room.
It's closed off to the rest of the world. Outside members of the Party, I doubt anybody even knows where we are.
There's no turning back.
\*\*\*
Security is everywhere. You can tell the difference between Party members and security by their clothes. Security members are clad in all black and bulletproof vests, toting assault rifles. Party members wear khaki pants and white blouses. A few are wearing khaki jackets. The women wear skirts. Hotel staff are non-Party members. They wear Winn Hotel uniforms. Everyone wears something that tells us their place. Except us. We're wearing our clothes from home.
We enter the lobby, behind a rope that separates us from the hotel's guests. Winn Hotel isn't open to the public. Only members of the Party are allowed to vacation at the hotel. It's the only hotel in Las Vegas that is membership only.
"Welcome!" A woman walks in wearing light khaki pants and a white blouse. She's got super short, almost white hair and she's so skinny she looks like a cigarette -- all she needs is some type of brown hat to finish the look. She's wearing the Party uniform. It hangs off of her like she forgot to eat for a week, or they didn't make one small enough to fit her frame. "I'm glad we have everyone here. I'm Lisa Miller -- President of Youth Development -- and I'm in charge of the program that will make you future leaders of America. Welcome to Winn Hotel. Marvin Winn is one of the Party's founders. You'll get to know him later." She claps her hands together and smiles. Only it's not a real smile. It reminds me of a cat sneering at its prey the moment before it eats it.
A man joins her. He's huge. Like 6'6" with broad shoulders. He's dressed in all black. But nice eyes. He smiles at us. "Hello," he says.
"And this is Liam, head of security and the person who will have his eyes on you."
"Don't worry, though: I'm here to protect you. Not to scare you."
"I need to make you aware of where you are allowed in the Hotel. I'm here to show you your rooms and the common area where you can get together to meet outside of class. You'll be allowed in the common area, your rooms, the cafeteria, the business center, and the pool. Everything else is off-limits unless you get prior permission. You are never allowed off hotel grounds unless escorted by security." She looks us each in the eye. "You understand? Never."
Liam repeats: "Understand?" He's the authority figure. He makes sure we are paying attention.
We nod our heads, everyone is too scared to say anything else.
"Okay then!" Lisa claps her hands together. "Leave your things here while I show you around. We'll have the staff take your things to your rooms."
\*\*\*
We first tour the hotel and then are shown to each of our rooms in turn. My room is next to a girl named Casey. We're on the fifteenth floor. Floors one through twelve are for hotel visitors and guests of the Party. Higher floors mean more importance. We're above the staff, but below the Party members.
I open the curtains. Lights illuminate the Strip. The Party is busy at work. They work 24/7. I guess that's why their headquarters are in Las Vegas. It's perfect.
I flip on the TV. All that's on is Party news. All pre-approved, of course. Nothing bad happens, at least according to the Party news it doesn't. Unless the opposition has an uprising you'd think the whole world was all peaches and cherries and butterflies.
You can tell the newscasters haven't been out in the suburbs lately to see how everything's changing.
I turn off the TV and decide to head down to the common area to see if anything is going on.
\*\*\*
The common area is a large room set aside for the trainees to gather and stay separate from the hotel guests. It's a huge room with a pool table, TVs, couches, two refrigerators, and a large table. The guys are already in the common area. I walk towards the couch where they're sitting and wonder if Matt will recognize me. I can't believe he's here.
There's a strawberry blonde guy next to him whose nose is sprinkled with freckles. He's the first to speak to me. He was so weird on the plane on the way down here. I felt him staring at me, almost as if there was something wrong.
"What's up?" He gives me a suspicious look, like maybe I'm not supposed to be here or something.
"Hi, I'm Farrah-Kate Ryan."
"Rick. Nice to meet you." He pauses while he shakes my hand. "Are you an American?"
His question throws me off. Part of the admission requirement to attend the Institute for Youth Development is to be an American. "Yeah, isn't everybody that comes here?"
"I guess so."
Out of the corner of my eye I notice Matt watching the exchange with amusement. I feel like I'm on the receiving end of some kind of joke.
Fortunately, he saves me. "I'm Matt." He stands up and holds out his hand. "We've met before, right?"
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to tell him that of course I know who he is but my tongue's stuck. Matt tilts his head and smiles. What's Matt doing here? Matt's an all-state quarterback that every girl in the state of California drools over.
He looks at me like he's waiting for me to say something.
What am I, mute now?
"Yeah, I think so," I spew.
"I'm surprised to see you at IYD. Aren't you working this summer?"
Working. It's been a long time since I've been offered an acting job. "No. It's why I came here. Joining the Party will open all sorts of opportunities for me." It's short and to the point. I don't want to talk about my disappointing career. So now it's his turn. I want to know why he's here. "Why are you spending the summer at IYD?" I can't help but ask. I can't believe he's here.
I'm spending the summer with Matt Fenton?
Rick must think the same thing. "Why'd you come here rather than football camp?"
"There's more to life than football. I'm trying to expand my mind. Football's not important anyway: leading the country is. I'm here to help put America back on the path to prosperity."
Rick nods like he knows exactly what Matt means, although I'm not sure he does.
"How 'bout you, Farrah-Kate? Outside of acting, are you a future leader of America?"
I go to say something, but I falter. I can't tell them about my plan. It's something I'd rather keep to myself. Why didn't I prepare an answer to that question? "Um ... It's a good opportunity. I want to contribute to society. Joining the Party is the only way to make a difference. There's a lot to learn at IYD. I'm excited to be here."
It's funny hearing myself talk about IYD. I sound like a Party commercial.
They nod their heads, like they know exactly what I'm talking about.
\*\*\*
Later that night, after everyone has gone to bed, I rummage through my suitcase looking for my Night of the Nocturnal DVD. I find it buried, wrapped in tissue in the bottom of my suitcase. I carefully unwrap the DVD as the sound of tissue crinkling fills the room. I noticed the common area has a retro DVD player and a huge TV. My room doesn't have a DVD player. But I'm sure everyone is asleep. They have to be: tomorrow is the first day of leadership development training. The video unwrapped, I tiptoe out of the room and down the long hallway to the common area at the end of the floor where we're staying.
The TV is off and it takes a few minutes of fiddling with the controls to get everything together. I pop in the movie and make myself comfortable on the couch. I flip forward to the scenes with my mother, then lay my head on the pillow and pull a blanket over myself.
As Mom's voice plays in the background, I let my eyes close. My mind goes back to when I was a little girl lying in bed, listening to Mom and Dad talk while I drifted to sleep. Mom's voice in the background is reassuring.
The sound of footsteps startles me from my slumber. Matt appears in the room out of nowhere.
"Hi," he says as he walks past me towards the kitchen. I sneak a peek his direction. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of threadbare Bermuda shorts. My eyes linger too long on his back as he opens the refrigerator. The Party keeps our food in there: meats, cheese, fruit, everything imaginable ... The Party really knows how to treat their prospects.
"You're up late," he says as he searches for a snack.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Yeah, I know the feeling." He joins me on the couch next to me with a Coke and a bag of Doritos. "I can't wait to find out what this place is all about in the morning. I can't believe I was chosen."
I doubt the caffeine and sugar-filled Coke is going to help him sleep.
"What do you think of the hotel?" he asks through a mouthful of chips.
"It's nice. I've never stayed here before and I wasn't sure what to expect."
"You look so much like her." He nods his head at the TV.
Silence floods the room. I wasn't expecting him to mention Mom. My breath catches in my throat. I give him a weak smile.
"Oh, I didn't say anything wrong, did I? I'm sorry. My mom's favorite movie was Taxi Driver when I was growing up."
"Oh. Most people don't remember her..."
"How could people not remember her? Everyone knows who Lynnette Ryan is. She's like an icon. Do you mind if I hang out?"
"No, anyone can hang out here. It's like the only place we're allowed unsupervised."
Then we sit in silence, watching the movie. I sneak a peek at Matt. His hair is curly and dark. The ends are tinted blonde from the summer sun. He's tanned, and freckles dot his nose. His muscles ripple down his arms.
"So, what brings you to IYD?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"I need to do more than just play football. Science was my best subject. I want to be able to make a difference, you know? Being a member of the Party is the only way to do anything that matters. You?"
The real reason I came to IYD sits on the tip of my tongue. Of course I won't share. The desperation I feel to go back in time and see Mom again is something I'll keep to myself. "Same reason. I can't just rely on my acting. IYD can open so many doors. It's a great opportunity. And maybe being Lynette's daughter helped me get accepted to the program."
He smiles at me and my skin flushes hot. I'm glad the room is dark.
"Well, I better get to bed. Class starts at 8:00. I don't want to be late on the first day."
I look at my watch and am surprised to see it's after midnight. "Okay, goodnight."
"See you in the morning." Then he walks up the stairs.
After he's gone I watch a couple of more scenes. Then I turn the TV off and Mom disappears into the past. I watch her go before returning to my room.
Farrah-Kate
It's the first day of class and my stomach is filled with fluttering butterflies. I ride the elevator down to the lobby with a vague feeling I may be sick.
The elevator opens and I see everyone waiting. Rick stands against the counter wearing his skinny clothes and sunglasses. I don't think Rick is grounded in reality. At least not the reality the rest of us live in. I walk towards the group. Rick starts pacing.
The anticipation is killing him.
"Good morning," Casey says to me. She's sitting on a couch in the lobby. I take a seat next to her and look around. Even though it's early, the hotel lobby buzzes with guests checking in, vacationers leaving. We wait behind the red velvet rope that separates us from the crowd. Beyond the lobby are the slot machines and tables for those who want to try their luck. My classmates' voices mix with the sound of slots. I capture bits and pieces of conversation.
I feel so far on the outside.
The nagging feeling I've made a mistake picks at my brain. I can't get the thought out of my mind. I shouldn't be here. I'm the last person who should become a member of the Party. They'll find me out I'm not loyal to the Party and I'll be put in prison. I never should have come.
Liam is coming to take us out to the Institute. Only people approved by the Party are allowed inside the Institute. IYD was built in Nevada because of the lack of earthquakes and natural disasters and because it's Marvin Winn's home. Nothing is going to ruin his super high-tech facility. The brochure says the facility can withstand an explosion from an atomic bomb.
Not that I want to find out.
I have no idea what to expect. Everything that happens at IYD is secret. I'm excited and nervous at the same time.
Matt stands outside the circle, staring at the ground. I try to get his attention, to offer him a smile and look for reassurance, but he doesn't look up.
"What do you think the first day is going to be like?" Casey whispers in my ear. She's twisting her hands together and looking around.
I go to say something, but Liam walks into the lobby. My mouth sticks in a perpetual O. He's wearing all black with an assault rifle strapped to his side and a large gold badge on his jacket. He's followed by two men dressed the same way. Big men. Men I wouldn't like meeting in a dark alley.
"Okay, folks, I see everyone is here." He claps his hands together as he examines the group. He's happy we're not late. No one can be late at IYD. Everyone knows that rule. "Follow me. It's your first day of class and we'll be traveling out to the Institute." He gives us each a stern look. "And don't forget, you've all signed a confidentiality agreement. What you are about to see isn't to be spoken of outside of IYD. Understood?" He looks around for affirmation and we all nod our heads, too scared to do anything else. "Good. Let's get going then."
\*\*\*
Our driver is the same one who drove us from the airport. He nods at us as we step up the stairs to the bus, but he doesn't say a word.
The bus pulls out onto the Las Vegas Strip and for a moment I forget why we are here. It all seems so normal. Tourists out on vacation, oblivious to what occurs in the upper levels of Winn Hotel and Casino.
We drive out of town to the east, away from the city. There are no buildings in sight; just hard dirt, lonely cacti, and shrubs.
I close my eyes. The bus is smooth and quiet. Voices talk around me. I pick up smidges of conversation.
I feel the motion of the bus slow and my eyes squint open. I look around. We're in the middle of the desert. With the exception of the of the dirt parking lot, we're in the middle of nowhere.
Liam stands up with a stack of what look like goggles. "I need everyone to put these on." He hands me a pair. They're heavy and black with a light on the top. "When you get these on they will attach to your face. A light will come on so I'll know they're sealed. It's important that you don't witness anything else past this point. We can't disclose the location of IYD."
To my left Rick nods his head, like he knows something the rest of us don't. I wait until everyone is holding a pair of goggles. I don't want to spend more time than I need to in the dark. I watch Rick put the goggles over his eyes and I follow suit.
Once we're all wearing our goggles the bus moves forward. The road gets bumpier. I count the seconds in my head. I feel the bus make turns on the road and I try to keep a mental record of where we're going. Ten minutes after we've put the goggles on, the bus comes to a stop.
"We're here; you can take off your goggles."
I pull the goggles over my head and the sun stabs my eyes. I squint as I wait for my eyes to adjust.
Liam stands in the front of the bus and motions for us to get off.
Casey stands and looks back over the seat at me. It's a look of nervous anticipation.
I step off the bus. It's nine o'clock in the morning and it already feels like a blow dryer is aimed straight at my face. The sun is a huge globe in the sky and I wonder if Las Vegas is somehow closer to the sun, like Nevada is a bulge on the side of the earth.
All around is hard-packed dust and brush -- the kind that doesn't need water. At least, not much water. A dirt devil sends sand into my eyes. We're in the middle of the desert and for a minute I think there's been a mistake. We're lost. Or maybe there's no IYD and we're about to be offered to the Gods of the Desert. I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead and come back with a handful of sweat. The sun burns the top of my head.
It's hell on earth.
And the Institute is nowhere in sight.
Panic builds. What are we doing out here?
It's only been a few minutes but sweat is already dripping down my face. My back is soaked under my shirt. My eyes sting. I can't wait to get back inside. Casey's in front of me. She reaches up and pulls her hair back away from her face.
A couple of salamanders dash under a dying shrub. Everything in the desert looks like it's dying. A jackrabbit dashes across the desert. It stops and gives us a curious look before sprinting away.
Liam holds something in his hand that looks like a compass. He stops and examines the reading. I can see the dial on the device move from where I'm standing. He takes a couple of steps and reads it again, then moves a few feet to the left before he stops.
"Okay, everyone, stand ten feet behind me and don't come any closer."
No one moves.
Liam spins the hand on the device he's holding. The ground shakes and Casey gives me a worried look. I glance at Liam. His expression gives the appearance that nothing's wrong, that everything going on is absolutely normal.
Liam takes one step back.
The ground shakes harder and then opens up right in front of us, exposing a big black hole. Liam presses a button on the device and light shines from the hole in the ground. He waves us forward. A gush of cold air blows out of the cavity, cooling my face. "Come along, it's time for class."
We inch closer to the hole and see stairs that lead down to a hallway that glows blue. Liam goes first, followed by Rick. I'm part excited and part scared. Casey turns and gives me a look before she starts walking down. I follow. I can barely see her in the hallway.
The hall is a dark, round cement tunnel with lights on the sides. The lights on the wall are like the color of the sky. I try to keep my eyes on my classmates. I'm worried if I lose them I won't find my way. We walk down to the end of the tunnel in complete silence and stop at a circular steel door. Liam takes out the device one last time, presses a button, and the door slides open.
He addresses us before letting us walk into the room. "You are entering a place only a select few have been. Everything that happens behind these doors is a secret of the Party and the Institute for Youth Development. From now on, every morning we'll go through same process: meet in the lobby and we'll come out here together. You won't know the location of the Institute; we can't risk giving away the location." He claps his hands together. "Now, let's get started."
Rick walks in first and the rest of us follow behind. Rick is so anxious to get started that he smells of excitement. It's a weird acrid smell that's part metal, part sweat.
We enter through the door and into a domed room lit with artificial light. Desks face what looks like a chalkboard -- only it's more like a huge TV screen. There are no windows. In front of the TV the air seems to be moving. I squint my eyes and realize it's an illusion.
Each of the desks is illuminated with a soft glow. We get closer and notice that lights on the desk tell us where to sit. I spot a desk that says Farrah Ryan right next to Matt's. I take my seat.
There's a podium in front of the board with metal letters that say Dr. Thompson. The board gives off a hazy glow, adding more illumination to the room. I try to take in everything in the classroom. It's like something out of a movie. Everything looks like it was dropped in from the year 2100 or from an Apple product show from the future. Maybe everything got here with one of Marvin Winn's travel devices. I glance at Matt and see him looking around the classroom with the same interest as me. All I know is that whatever happens at IYD this summer, it's going to be real.
Lisa stands in front of the room. "Good morning, class." She takes a moment to examine each of us. "I see you all made it here safely. Welcome to IYD. You represent the best. You represent the future. And..." She looks around the room, dramatizing the moment. "This is the first year we'll be testing Dr. Thompson's newest device. It's the rarest of opportunities." She claps her hands together and looks at each of us in turn. "Of course we'll need you all to sign a release form absolving IYD from potential injury or death."
Injury or death?
An audible gasp fills the room. Rick's to my left and his eyes get real big. I take a deep breath. IYD is supposed to be about building the brightest minds and having opportunities for scientific development in youths. Not injuries and death.
Lisa presses a button on the podium and the release form appears on our desk. It's electronic. Letters glow against a dark backdrop.
"There are special pencils on your desk for writing on the glow board. We need you to use these pencils to sign your names.
I pick up the specially made plastic pencil and write Farrah-Kate Ryan on the board. Whatever happens to me over the summer, I've released the opportunity to sue the school. Not that anyone would care if anything happened to me anyway. It's just dad and I.
Lisa smiles at us, her lips spread thin, and the hazy colored light in the darkened room make her teeth glow. I wonder if she knows about her teeth. She looks like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.
"Great, we're ready then. Let's get started. We only have eight weeks. And I can tell you this: the next eight weeks will change your life."
Casey turns back and looks at me, her eyes as wide as saucers. I shake my head, afraid to say anything in front of Lisa.
What have I gotten myself into?
\*\*\*
Suddenly the electronic chalkboard lights up with a syllabus. The lesson plan is carefully outlined for each week. "Ah ... I see you're surprised," Lisa says as she paces the front of the room. "You are not allowed notepads, pencils or paper in the vault. You use the glow boards for notes. Everything that goes on in this room stays in this room. Got it?"
We nod in unison.
"Great, because what you will learn over the next eight weeks come from years of research funded by Marvin Winn. Mr. Winn founded IYD with proceeds from the sale of one of his casinos. He's now dedicated his life's work to the Party. What we will teach you here can't be learned anywhere else. Congratulations, you're among the lucky few." She gives us a broad smile from the front of the room and claps her hands. Shannon is the first to clap along. Others follow. It feels weird, but I do it anyway.
Rick raises his hand from the corner of the room, then waves it in the air when Lisa ignores him. "Has Mr. Winn patented his findings?"
"The patent is under seal by the Party," Lisa says. She walks towards him and stands above his desk. They're in a stare down until he looks away. Then she returns to the front of the room. "We can make anything happen for you. Just remember, if anything from IYD leaves without our permission, we know where to find you. Understood?"
A chill runs down my spine. "Yes," I spit out. This time I'm the first person to answer.
"Good, because you're no longer one of them; you're one of us."
The words hang in the air. One of us. Like they own us now
"Now are we ready to get started?" No one says anything. No one has to. "Good, then it's time for you to meet Dr. Thompson. Dr. Thompson is the genius behind Winn Theory and the developer of the Slider."
The door opens and in walks a tall man about my dad's age in a white lab coat. He looks like he stepped right out of one of those old mad scientist movies. He's the kind of tall that gets a second look and he has crazy hair that gives the appearance it's been twisted around corkscrews. Altogether, his appearance makes me wonder if he spends all his time locked away in a lab.
Dr. Thompson gives us a broad, welcoming smile, like there's nothing better than a group of fresh-faced students otherwise known as new Party blood.
"Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning," we mumble back.
He picks up a device off the table in front of the room and presses a couple of buttons. The screen on the wall behind him lights up with all our face shots that we sent when we applied for the program. Fifteen faces. I see my face name in the middle of the board.
Farrah--Kate Ryan
Senior at Beverly Hills High School
Gifted Actress
Daughter of Lynette Ryan 1961 -- 2002
I examine the other photos on the board. Everyone here has a gift. It's the only way to get here. The Party has to think you're special.
Matt's name is at the top right. Everyone knows Matt Fenton. He was one of the most sought after players during the college recruitment season.
Matthew Fenton
Graduate Eagle Rock High School
All--American Athlete
And there are the others: Casey's a singer from Portland, Rick is some super-smart math genius from Seattle, Shannon lives in Florida and she's been through NASA's youth program, Foster is from Maryland and had a perfect score on his SATS and was the winner of the last two science fairs, Marcus is from Palo Alto and has his own internet company that at one time would have made him a millionaire. Everyone is gifted at something. It makes me feel inconsequential.
I'm in a room full of super--teens and suddenly I feel small and intimidated.
"We have the best and the brightest here at IYD this summer. The Party will change your life. Welcome you to the only program that can change your future."
It feels weird being included. I try to make myself small. I can't imagine what all these super geniuses think of an actress being in the program.
One thing for sure, I hope they don't make me do any calculus.
"Is everyone ready to get started?"
We nod our heads in unison.
\*\*\*
Dr. Thompson starts with an introduction to the creation of IYD and the purpose of the Academy. He discusses Marvin Winn's life and what compelled him to create a youth program for the future leaders of America. Pictures of Marvin appear on the screen: him as a young man, his first casino, his time as a casino mogul, and the development of the Institute for Youth Development.
I listen intently to what Dr. Thompson has to say. I take notes on the glow board. The hum of the air conditioner and the cold air makes me feel like I'm in some kind of tube.
I guess, in some way, I am. A test tube. A place to develop the Party's future leaders.
Then the screen changes in front of me and a circular device appears. Suddenly the room is alert.
"Class, training lasts eight weeks. We have a lot to accomplish so we're going to jump right in and get started. Some of you may have heard the rumors. We've tried to keep our discovery under wraps but there was an incident last year that allowed a leak. What am I talking about? Time travel." He pauses and looks around the room. "Yes, you heard me right. Travel through time: it's possible now, and the device you're looking at on the screen is what allows you to locate the vortexes that will take you back in time. You will have the opportunity to be the first documented travelers to the past."
The room is silent while we take it all in.
Dr. Thompson knows he has our attention. "Why is time travel important to the Party?" He starts pacing the front of the room. He's on a roll. In the zone. "For the Party to be successful we need to have perfect candidates." He paces back and forth. The room is mesmerized. "Perfect candidates have perfect pasts. They don't have inappropriate pictures posted on the Internet, no arrests in their pasts, they come from good families," his eyes pause on me for a second and I feel my face burn, "and they haven't been in any unfortunate accidents." Matt looks up from the board he was making notes on. I glance at him. He shakes his head and looks back down at the glow board. His face tightens. Dr Thompson continues, "Now you can fix your pasts. We chose you for the Party, not because we thought you were perfect, but because we thought you were the best candidates. So, here you are, and after we fix up your pasts, we'll teach you everything you need to know for the future."
Fixing your pasts. Grooming for Party leadership.
Goosebumps cover my arms and tickle my back. Time travel. The impossible made possible.
I can't believe this is happening.
"Before we get started on time travel we need to discuss the theory we believe makes time travel possible. It is important to theoretically understand the dynamics of time travel and the rules that must be obeyed before you start learning about the process."
The screen changes behind him and Winn Theory appears on the screen.
1) You can only go back.
2) You can only change what's listed on your instruction manual. Beware of the Butterfly Effect.
3) Time is happening all around you.
"Class, what you are looking at is the theory behind time travel and the laws we need to follow. Now, rule number one, you can only go back. We'll only be able to travel back in time. Because motion moves forward and the universe is expanding, there's no way to move forward in time." He pauses and walks across the front of the room. "I take that back. We don't know if you can go forward. As yet, we haven't been able to find a way to skip ahead in time.
"When it's your turn for the travel we'll provide you an instruction manual based on your past and give you a list of events we need you to change. It's very important that you only follow the directions on the list."
It's all sinking in. I'll be able to go back to that moment I've wanted to return to my whole life.
Marcus raises his raises his hand. "What happens if we don't follow the instructions?"
"I'll get to that in Rule Two. Just think, after the successful completion of your travel, you'll be part of history."
Part of history. I try to picture myself in the past, back with my mom. It's amazing.
"But don't forget: once you go back in time, you'll be living that moment like you are there, everything will be the way it was, and you'll be there to make a change. Do not change anything that's not on the list. If you change anything else you can set off a ripple that will run through time and change everything. And you won't be able to come back. Changing time prevents your return. But we'll discuss all of this later in the program. I don't want to overwhelm you right now."
Silence falls over the room. I think about Mom and how much I'd like to change the past.
All the information makes my head feel like it's about to explode. I look around the room and can't tell if my classmates feel the same way, but Dr. Thompson must be able to read my mind.
"I think that's enough for the first day. Liam will be taking you back to the ranch. Enjoy the rest of your day. The ranch has a lovely pool area. When you're not in class or studying, be sure to take advantage of the property. Marvin wants to be a good host."
The door rolls open and Liam appears. It's time to go back. Our first day of class is over.
Matt
There's been an uprising on the Strip. The Party hasn't gained the popularity they desired. Opposition members came into Las Vegas overnight while we slept. The floor where we're staying is on lockdown and class is cancelled for the day. I sit next to the window, watching the crowd of people holding signs outside the hotel. This can't be good for business. I heard that the hotel is offering refunds to the guests who complain. People march up and down the streets holding signs. Their mouths are moving, but I can't make out what they're saying.
The windows are made of special glass to prevent penetration from outside.
Or jumpers from the inside.
At 11:00 a group of protestors approach the casino. Security pushes them back, but the rear of the crowd continues to surge forward. And it's not just hotel security in their identifiable black pants and white shirts. Party security has joined them in their heavily armed black uniforms.
I watch a Hummer drive alongside the casino towards the crowd.
I lean my head against the window. The opposition looks so small. Like ants, or specks of dirt, dots in the distance that will blow away with the breeze.
Or be blown away by gunfire.
The crowd doesn't back up. A couple of men in front wave their signs in the air. Like paper can stop a tank. Then another tank appears. The crowd still doesn't move.
They're like a mob.
I packed binoculars in my suitcase. I get up and dig through rumpled clothes and unread books. I find them buried underneath a pair of khakis. Back at home I would never wear khaki pants. But I'm training to be a member of the Party now.
With the binoculars I can see what's happening on the street below. The opposition looks like nothing more than a group of former hotel workers. Women holding signs asking for a fair wage stand with children close behind.
A man from the front of the group moves toward the Hummer. He climbs up on the front bumper. The driver is one of the Party's security members. The guy doesn't get off.
Then there's a gunshot.
Half the crowd -- the closer half -- duck. The people standing in the back turn to run, scattering in all directions.
The gun fires into the air again and this time it's so loud I can hear it in my room. A woman runs towards the tank and the gun moves her direction.
I drop the binoculars and head out the door.
The hallway is empty. The normal security that waits in the hall to greet us in the morning is absent. They're outside, guarding the front of the hotel, or inside the casino ensuring the guests they are safe.
I'm sure of it.
The elevator is there a second after I hit the button. The door slides open and I'm alone in a rectangular box surrounded by mirrors. I don't look at my reflection. I'm scared of what I'll see.
I race through the lobby towards the exit. I don't look around. I'm sure if I look around a guard will make eye contact with me and he'll realize I don't belong outside.
The lobby isn't deserted. It's filled with security and guards block the entrance. A man dressed in black with an assault rifle strapped to his waist notices me as I get close to the exit. He waves at the men he's speaking to and heads my direction.
"Can I help you?"
The sound of an explosion makes me jump. I look over his shoulder out the glass window to the pandemonium in the distance.
I need a way out.
And we're not supposed to go out front. It's one of the rules.
But I don't care.
"No; I just came down to see what's going on."
He takes a step closer and gives me a skeptical look. "Dr. Thompson doesn't want any of the Party trainees downstairs. It's not safe down here right now. You're not supposed to leave your floor. I'll have someone escort you back to your room."
My eyes dart around the lobby for a way out, a path to escape without being spotted. A darkened hallway lies to the left. It's long -- but I can see the light coming from the end.
"I don't need an escort. I can make it back by myself. Like I said, I just came down here to see what's going on."
He pauses and then shrugs his shoulders. "Fine, suit yourself. Go back up to your room and lock yourself in. We'll let you know when it's okay to come out."
"Sure."
The elevators are down the hall to the left, the hallway that leads outside is to the right. I head to their intersection, watching what happens behind me in the reflection of a giant mirror hanging from the wall. A member of security watches me for a while, but then another guard gets his attention and he walks away.
As soon as he turns around I dart to the right.
The hallway is empty and the doors are closed. Maids' carts line the hallway, one neatly stacked cart outside each room. The staff stays on the bottom floor. The hierarchy at the hotel is top down.
I run down the hallway towards the exit, trying not to glance over my shoulder every few steps. Looking behind will slow me down and I don't have time to waste.
I get to the exit undetected and push open the door. I know an alarm will sound. But I have time, enough time to do what I need to do.
I push open the door and red lights flash behind. I look over my shoulder and see a security guard round the corner.
I start to run.
"Stop right there!"
I take a right and I'm behind the tanks along the side of the casino. I hug the far right side of the sidewalk. My heart beats in my chest and I take a couple of sharp breaths. The air burns going down. I know I'm in better shape than this. I'm an All-American Athlete.
"Stop!"
The sound startles me. My heart almost jumps in my chest. I push my head down and run faster. I know I can outrun my pursuer: I can run a mile in 4 ½ minutes.
The armored Hummer belongs to the Party's security detail. The vehicle is massive, and even larger from my vantage point at ground level instead of high above the Strip. It moves forward, towards the crowd. I try to get ahead of it. A gun goes shot rings high into the air and another shot fires. I'm deaf. It's like I can hear sounds happening around me but I can't make out what anyone is saying. I look back and see the security guard running my direction. His mouth is moving, but I can't make out the words.
The tank moves forward. I run to the fence and a couple of women from the opposition take a step back, their faces full of fear.
And it occurs to me that it's me they're scared of.
Then I'm standing between security and the opposition. I hold my hand up in the air for it to stop. It inches forward, daring me to hold my ground.
I stay.
I have to.
"Get away from there!"
My hearing is back. It's the security guard that chased me out to the road. Behind him come three more. Big guys ready to take me back to the casino.
But I've got other plans.
I take a step forward towards the Hummer. It inches towards me. I can smell the fumes. The gun swings around in my direction.
"Please be advised you are interfering with Party security. You have fifteen seconds to move or we will open fire."
I hear a few screams and the crowd behind me thins.
"You can't scare us," yells a voice behind me.
The seconds count down in my head.
"Matt, you need to move. You're not supposed to be out here. You need to step to the side and return to your room. There is a serious penalty for interfering with Party security."
It's Liam, the head of security. His words are harsh but they don't match the look on his face. I can tell he won't shoot me -- but I don't know about the rest.
"Get out from in front of the vehicle!" the bullhorn screams. It's so loud my ears ring.
The gun moves towards the crowd behind me.
"Killers!" a woman behind me screams. She has a small boy standing in front of me. He looks at me. His eyes are like marbles. His body is trembling.
The gun moves toward her.
I run in front of her, on the opposite side of the fence.
"Matt, please, Dr. Thompson doesn't want you out here."
"Then turn the Hummer around! What are they doing out here anyway? No one out here is armed! It's a peaceful rally and the Party sends guns?"
"We need to keep everyone in line."
"It's more than what's necessary."
"Matt, you need to come back inside."
"Not until security turns around."
Liam crosses his arms over his chest.
"Killers!" the woman yells again. She's wearing a shirt with a picture of a smiling man on the front. Above his head says Roberto Munez, 1990 -- 2011.
"Ma'am," I say, walking in her direction. "This isn't a good idea. You need to leave." I'm opposite her now, the fence is the only thing between us. I feel the tank behind me. Adrenalin rushes through my body. I feel like my head might explode.
"Killer," she hisses at me.
"I haven't killed anyone," I whisper back.
"You're one of them!"
"Look." My voice is so low that only she can hear me. "What's your name?"
"Angela."
"Okay, Angela, please leave now. I'll do my best to make sure nothing bad happens again. But you need to go. Now's not the time. If you want to make a difference for your group, you should really go."
A loud crashing sound fills the air. Security has fired another shot in the air. My heart jumps into my throat. It's enough for Angela. She grabs her son.
"You better not be lying," she says as she walks off.
I walk back towards Liam. I can't tell if he's mad or surprised about what just happened. He grabs my arm without saying a word and pulls me back to the hotel.
Matt
Saturday I spend in mandatory lockdown in my room.
Lockdown is punishment for not following the rules. And this was only my first infraction. I don't want to find out what happens the second time around.
Sunday they're allowing me out. I spent all Saturday watching the opposition outside the hotel, holding signs like they were part of a labor union, even though they're really opposed to the Party. It's the only way they can protest without being driven away by guns.
By Sunday morning the crowds have dispersed, but I'm pretty sure the heat wave that's hit the desert is the cause of their disappearance more than anything. If you look outside in the middle of the afternoon, you can watch the streets melt.
It's like the sun is closer to the earth here in Nevada. It's brighter, bigger in the sky. It's like the earth bulges out here. That's possible, you know. Gravity changes the shape of the earth. For some reason the effect feels greater here.
I'm sure it has to do with geography, but I like the idea of the earth bulging towards the sun. It certainly feels that way. And, anyway, I did learn in Physics it's possible.
The heat doesn't stop us from meeting at the pool once we're allowed out of our rooms. It's on the eighth floor, and for Party members only.
The pool is just what you would expect from a mogul like Marvin Winn. It's surrounded by empty chairs with towels hanging over the backs and covered with multi-colored cushions. The staff stands around the pool, waiting to satisfy the request of any Party member who steps outside. Only the members that live at the hotel are too busy planning their takeover to spend time at the pool. So it leaves the space to us, the trainees.
The hot air blasts my face and burns my skin. No wonder the opposition gave up and went home.
There's a shaded bar with a man dressed in white standing behind the counter. I'm parched. It's dry heat, but it's definitely heat. I have no idea why people act like sitting in an oven isn't that bad as long as the humidity is low. I swear I feel my blood boiling.
I walk over to the bar.
"Good afternoon," the man greets me as he bends down and grabs a glass from under the counter.
"Same to you." I can't believe we have a bartender. I examine the bar behind him and I'm relieved to see there's no alcohol. Just juice, soda, flavored waters. I can't stand the smell of alcohol. "Do you have ice?"
"Yes, sir." He grabs a scooper and fills it with ice, pouring it into the glass.
"Okay, I'll take a Coke on ice and a bottle of water."
He fills my drink and pushes it across the bar at me. I turn around in time to see Farrah and Casey walking out to the pool. Both are wearing bathing suits. Casey's Pacific Northwest skin is so white that it glows. If I knew her better, I'd throw a bottle of sunscreen at her. Farrah's tan is a stark contrast to Casey's pasty skin. Farrah is the classic California girl: she's all Hollywood -- the daughter of a famous actress whose candle faded too soon.
I wave them over. "Hey, ladies!" Having company is better than sitting alone. I spent yesterday alone in my room. And Farrah looks pretty good in a swimsuit. So that's a bonus.
They pull up chairs next to where I'm sitting and make themselves comfortable. Casey eyes my drink.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Bar."
Her brow wrinkles. "Bar?"
"Yeah, over there, free drinks during our stay."
"Oh, wow. Cool." She turns to Farrah. "Want anything?"
"A bottle of water would be good."
Casey walks away, leaving the two of us alone.
Farrah starts rubbing sun tan lotion on her legs. I want to reach over to help. I feel my hand quiver in her direction, but I catch myself. Rubbing lotion on my classmate's legs isn't why I'm here.
Farrah breaks the silence. "I heard about what happened. I can't believe you went outside. You know we're not allowed out, don't you?"
I shake my head. "It looked like things were getting out of hand. I needed to make sure no one got hurt."
She takes a strand of hair and pushes it behind her ear. "You're braver than I am. I looked out the window and couldn't believe it. I locked myself in my room."
"Maybe it's not bravery. Maybe I'm just crazy."
"They screen for the crazy here, you know. Everyone enrolled at IYD is supposed to be sane."
"That doesn't explain Rick."
She smiles and pushes up her sunglasses, pulling back her hair. She's very Hollywood. Anyone would be able to tell her mother was an actress. "Rick's sane, he's just weird. There's a difference."
Casey returns holding a bottle of water in one hand and a sweating ice tea in the other.
The rest of the group filters outside. We sit around the pool, discussing the day and what's in store. We don't talk about yesterday. Off to lighter subjects. No one wants to think about the tanks patrolling the front of the hotel.
Speaking of Rick, he walks out the door and spots us sitting around the pool. He gives us a wave and grabs a chair, shoving it between Farrah and I. He sits so close to me that his leg brushes mine. A hairy guy leg.
I cringe.
"Dude, I saw you through the window yesterday. What are you? Nuts? Nutso guy? Is that you?"
My response is quiet: "Guns and pedestrians don't mix." Even though I'm sure they're filming everything I do, I keep my voice down just in case.
"Neither does going against the Party."
I take a sip of my drink. It's sweating in the Nevada sun. Farrah stretches and pulls her sunglasses over her eyes.
Rick is a live wire though.
"So, who's going first?" Drops of sweat drip down the side of his face. It's obvious that my classmates shouldn't be out here. They look like they'll melt.
"What do you mean?" Casey asks. She's moved her chair away from Rick. She's so close to the edge of the pool I think she'll tumble into the water.
"Who's going to be the first to go back? I think it should be me. I'm the most qualified. I've been studying time travel my whole life. It should definitely be me."
Relief washes over everyone's faces. No one is dying to go first. Only one other person has tried going through the vortex.
"Be my guest," I answer when no one says anything. If Rick wants to be a human guinea pig then all the power to him. If Rick goes first and comes back then I'll know for sure the Slider works. Of course, I only want a one-way ticket.
"Really? How about you ladies? Do either of you want to go first? I'd hate to take the spot of a lady."
"It's all you," Casey offers.
"Great! I can't wait. I want to be remembered as the world's first successful time traveler. There's a lot that goes into being first."
"But what about the students from last year?" Farrah asks. "Wouldn't the guy that went last year be considered the first?"
"No, because he didn't come back. He got lost in time and was never seen again."
"So you want to try something that's never been successfully done?"
"Look," he says, and he bends forward, sweat dripping off his forehead, onto the pool deck. "It's possible and I have proof I've done it successfully." He looks around like someone might be listening. "If time travel is possible, it's already happening."
"How is that possible if you're going to be the first?"
"They're coming from the future. They're all around us."
Casey's expression is full of skepticism. "Yeah, right."
"Trust me. There's proof of it everywhere."
Silence over takes the pool. Rick is the only person this information doesn't seem to bother. The guy with a million theories.
That guy can definitely go first.
Rick
The eighth floor of Winn Hotel has a business center with Internet access. We're not allowed computers in our room. We're not allowed anything that can dial into wireless that would allow us to connect with the outside world.
I need to know what's going on. I can't help myself. I came here to find out the truth and so far I haven't found out anything.
But the Party doesn't know everything. They are devoid of tech geeks. They don't know how easy it is to break the code.
The hallway is empty when I walk into the business center. A woman sits behind the front desk. She smiles at me when I walk in. An amateur. They're all amateurs.
See, that's the problem. When you go after the smartest, sometimes they're smarter than you.
"Hello." I smile at the woman in black pants and a white polo shirt.
Good: she's hotel staff and not Party security. This will be so easy.
"Good afternoon." Her smile is warm and oblivious.
I motion towards an empty computer. "Mind if I use that one?" I point to one of the deserted terminals. No one is around. It should be harder than this, it really should.
"Of course."
I sit down and she goes back to filing her nails. The woman they put in charge of supervising the business center files her nails. Now isn't that something?
I log into the computer. A picture of Winn Hotel and Casino is the homepage. I pretend to be interested in the features of the hotel while I look around the business center for cameras. There's one in the corner to my right. I feel its eyes on me.
No Internet access makes me anxious. I don't know what's going on with our Bigfoot exhibition. The rumor is there is a Bigfoot specimen at Area 31. But how will I know what's going on if I'm stuck in a hotel all summer?
I want to get past the firewall. I want to get out of everything that's monitored so I can browse on my own.
I look at the settings on the computer and examine the hard drive. Perfect. They're just cheap old computers, probably moved down from the business center the senior members of The Party use. It has just what I need. Now all I have to do is get out of view of the camera.
Amateurs.
I turn off the computer and stand up.
I smile at the woman at her desk. Her nametag says her name is Maria.
"Maria, I'm going down to the common room to get something to drink. Would you like me to grab you something?"
She stops filing her nails and a smile crosses her face. "Yeah, sure, coffee would be great. I stayed up too late last night and I could really use something."
\*\*\*
No one can pull one over on me. I know people think I'm impaired. Like I'm a genius everyone wants to stay away from. The problem is, no one can see past the obvious. They think we're here for a reason, to be members of the Party. Like the Party needs us.
They need to experiment.
They need people who are smarter than them.
The Party needs the Youth of America on board.
As long as I can still get online to see what's going on, I'm okay. I just need to make sure what I'm doing isn't monitored. I don't like spies. I don't want to be watched.
But, really, it's okay. Because I'm ready. I want to be one of them. I want my place in history. And all it takes is a ride back in time to get there.
Everyone is scared. Like wah, wah, wah, I'm so scared something will happen.
So why did they come?
If they don't want to go along for the ride, then what are they even doing here?
I'm here for the ride.
We're in Las Vegas baby and I'm all in.
\*\*\*
I put the key into the door and enter my room. The Party doesn't know about ePrivacy. No one knows about it outside the members of the Cons. Jonathan gave me the device and I snuck it in my suitcase. It's so small. If you don't know where to look, it's invisible. And it's untraceable. He created it so he could do research on his computer at his job. They monitor what he does online. He doesn't like being monitored.
I don't acknowledge the camera above my hotel room door when I enter my room. I don't know it's there -- or at least I pretend I don't. I shut the door behind me and pour a glass of water. The water's ice cold, the pitcher continuously being refilled by the hotel staff, and it freezes my insides on the way down.
I drink the glass and pour a second.
When I've been in my room long enough to avoid suspicion I open my suitcase, lift the liner away from the side, and feel my way along the edge. The inside of the suitcase is smooth. I run my hand back and forth.
There's nothing.
The device is the size of a pinhead.
I keep feeling before I come up with it.
I scrape my fingernail against the suitcase. The dot goes under my fingernail, just like Jonathan showed me.
Undetected.
\*\*\*
Maria is still guarding the business center when I return. I hand her the cup of coffee I retrieved for her in the common area. She bends my ear about the weather. I examine the computers while she speaks and choose one that backs to the wall, angled away from the camera.
"Mind if I use the computer again?"
"That's what they're here for," she says cheerily.
Good. I've made a friend.
I sit down and Maria goes back to filing her nails, taking breaks to sip her coffee, examining whatever Internet gossip has caught her attention.
I turn on the computer and Winn Hotel appears in front of me. The ePrivacy is still under my fingernail. The camera is to the right. I examine the room, looking for hidden cameras. When I'm sure I'm safe I reach behind the computer and brush my fingernail against the back, loosening the device. I push it against the back of the hard drive. The screen in front of me blinks and a small window opens at the bottom.
It worked.
The main screen is still logged into the Party's computer -- but the new, small screen is unmonitored. I use it to check my email. I haven't been able to look at my email since I've been here. It's the secret email account I use to talk to the group and when I log in it's loaded with messages.
I read through them when I notice one of the messages from Jonathan has a bright red star.
My heart thumps as I open it:
Rick,
You're in the right place. They have one. You need to head southeast. We're sure of it.
JD
Southeast of Las Vegas. That's where I'll find Area 31. And I'm sure IYD is right on its outskirts. Even with the goggles on I counted in my head how far we traveled. We headed Southeast. I could tell by the location of the sun when I took off my goggles. I'm sure it's the right direction.
Now I just need to figure out how I'll be able to make it to the facility to see what the Party is hiding.
Farrah-Kate
The weekend ticked by in slow motion. We're not allowed off the eighth floor without prior approval from the Party heads. Mostly it's Lisa who's in charge of everything we do. I spent the weekend by the pool and watching movies in the common area. After everyone goes to sleep I play my mother's DVDs. Dad's not here, so I can watch the movies whenever I want. I don't have him frowning over my shoulder every time he walks in on me in front of the TV.
Time ticks by while I wait to return to my past. The pictures from the magazines after Mom's death are burned in the back of my brain.
I wonder if she's the same as I remember her. Memories get clouded over time. All I have are her movies. I know I think of her as the actress in the films. But who was she really? Going back to that time will help me find out.
\*\*\*
The bus pulls out of the hangar hidden within the walls of the hotel. The Strip is quiet on Monday morning. The opposition has returned to work. The streets are empty. It's like nothing ever happened.
The bus pulls out of town and voices turn quiet. A few people drift off to sleep. Once again, when we're in the desert Liam hands out our goggles to put on. I place them over my eyes and the suction glues them to my face. All I see is dark with the exception of the soft glow of red coming from the right.
I wonder what would happen if I pulled the glasses off.
What would I see?
My mind imagines trolls guarding the side of the roads and dogs with red eyes. But it's so quiet out here. If not for the hum of the engine, it would be silent.
I feel the bus twist and turn down the road. The bus bumps along and I can tell we're on gravel. The bumps get worse. We're getting close. The motion of the bus slows and stops. The red on my goggles starts to blink and the light turns green.
"Okay, you can take off the blinders. We're here," says Liam from somewhere in front of us.
I pull the goggles over my head and the light scorches my eyes. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust.
We pile off the bus. Low voices speculate about the day in the backdrop. I follow Casey off the bus and into the desert. My skin burns as soon as the sun hits it. Sweat drips into my eyes.
We follow Liam into the desert. He follows the directions on the compass he holds in his hands. Soon, he stops.
"Stand back," he says as he programs the device.
The door slides open and we make our way down the tunnel to class. It's one hundred degrees outside and sixty-five inside. The shock of cold air sends a jolt of pain through my head. Then my brain thaws and the pain is gone as soon as it started. Matt walks in front of me and my eyes are glued to the muscles on his back and his tuft of dark hair. Rick starts talking. The kid is like a torpedo ready to explode. Once he starts talking, it's hard to get him to stop.
"Did you know the Large Hadron Collider is able to create black holes large enough to swallow the earth?" By the tone of his voice, you can tell it's something Rick's excited about.
Matt shakes his head and I move closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. "That's just a conspiracy theory. The LHC is colliding particle beams to test the laws of nature. It's not going to swallow the earth. You've been spending too much time in internet chat rooms."
"No, dude, seriously. You don't understand what they're trying to do there. They're trying to send our planet into a wormhole so another society can take us over. There's proof that some of the creators of the LHC are not from this galaxy."
Matt laughs. "You've got to be kidding me, right? The best scientific minds today are working on the LHC. They're not trying to send us down a wormhole to another planet. That's crackpot stuff."
The word crackpot doesn't affect Rick and he keeps going, undeterred. "Seriously, you believe everything the government tells you? All sorts of top-secret experimentations happen behind the scenes. It's why I'm spending the summer at IYD: these guys are in on it."
"They're in on the LHC?" Matt's voice grows more incredulous by the moment.
"Yeah, dude, they really are. And you know what? That device that's going to take us back in time? It can send people back here. You know that, right? I mean, we can't travel back in time. But the future can travel back in time. They can come back here. The future is trying to stop the Large Hadron Collider from swallowing the earth."
"Right."
"Really, I'm not kidding around here. This isn't coming from me, this is coming from scientists who believe the reason the machine isn't working is because it's jinxed. It's never going to work. The future won't let it. It's why they're so desperate to make sure their theory works this summer. They're going to try to save the world and get rich in the process."
I glance at Liam. He's far enough ahead of us that I'm pretty sure he can't hear the conversation -- pretty sure, but not certain. I wonder if IYD realizes they let the crazy in. I thought we took a test for that. Rick has everyone's attention though.
"They're in on it? Yeah right. We're all here on some kind of confidential government experiment."
"They wouldn't tell us though. We're their guinea pigs. They're using us to experiment."
Matt stops walking and I almost run into his back. I want to go back in time, not be someone's guinea pig. I mean ... this is safe, right?
"I think you've been spending too much time with your imagination. IYD has been around for twenty years. Many of the graduates hold government office or are corporate CEOs. The Party runs everything."
"Exactly! See what I mean? Corporate CEOs and government officials! Like you can trust any of those people. They're using us to experiment. But I'm okay with it. I want to be experimented on. I want in on the secret. I want to know what's going to happen to the earth when the LHC III opens a black hole and we all slide into another dimension. I need to know how to prepare myself for the end of the world!" He looks around. His eyes are wild, like the Party is spying on us and maybe he shouldn't have started the conversation inside IYD. "Look, there's lots going on you don't know about. Some of it is occurring right here in Las Vegas." His voice is so quiet I'm sure that only Matt and I are able to hear him. "Be on the look out. Keep your eyes open. You have no idea what's going on."
We catch up with Liam and stand outside the entrance to the class. Rick stops talking. I suppose it's because he doesn't want Liam to hear the crazy talk.
"Have a good day," Liam says. Then he pushes the buttons on the control outside the door. The circular metal door opens and we walk into class.
\*\*\*
Dr. Thompson spends the entire class talking about Winn Theory and going over equations I don't understand. I can't get Rick's crazy talk out of my mind. And now the reality of what we're doing is starting to sink in. We're here to test scientific theory. We'll be the first time travelers if the device the lab has developed is successful.
And I wonder what else is going on around here. Rick comes across as being... off. But he also knows stuff. Could something be out here that we don't know about?
I wonder if coming here was the right decision.
It's the only chance for a better future for my Dad and I. The Party is trying to control everything.
In my heart I know I made the right choice. I want fresher memories of my mother. Something different than the acting I see on TV. I want to remember what she was really like. I want a better understanding of what happened.
I should have known something was wrong back then and I should have tried to help.
Even though I was only eight, I should have tried.
But I was never able to tell her good bye. We were a mother and daughter and then we weren't.
My desk glows with information about wormholes, space-time, and curved space. The information on the screen boggles my mind. Traveling through vortexes has so many implications on humanity. It hurts my head. I can barely take it all in.
And I'm trying my best. But I'm here for one reason and one reason only.
I want to give her another chance.
\*\*\*
We eat lunch in a cafeteria shaped like a circle. We have a broad choice of food: steak, crab, a million desserts ... The fanciful meals give a taste of what the Party can offer us once we're members. Inconsequential gossip fills the room. After lunch we return to class.
It's time for the good stuff. The information we've been waiting for. The reason we're here. Dr. Thompson walks to the front of the class. In his hand he holds a flat, circular object. The object has a glowing ring around it and what looks like a dial. All at once we're more alert, sitting up straighter than before, trying to see what he's holding. This is Marvin's greatest invention and what we're here to test.
Dr. Thompson stands in the front of the class and looks around the room. He stares at each one of us as if he is trying to read our minds. I wonder if he can read minds. It seems like something he'd be able to do. He walks over to the touch screen and tabs through a couple of icons. A few seconds later our confidentiality agreements fill up the screen and I see the one with my name and date signed at the bottom.
"Good, it looks like we have everything we need to get started. Remember, if you break the confidentiality agreement you'll be asked to leave the premises and you'll be sentenced to prison. Or worse." He pauses, looking around the room. "Treason is subject to the death penalty. We don't want that now, do we?"
We shake our heads. Part of me wants to ask about what's 'worse' and part of me doesn't want to know.
The lights go off in the classroom and Dr. Thompson holds the device up so we all can see it. It looks like an electronic compass without a dial. Instead it has a glowing, digital arrow on its face.
"This is the Slider. Twenty years and millions of dollars have gone into this device. The Slider is able to locate the vortexes that can take you back in time. I'll show you how it works." He holds it up so we call can see. The room is mesmerized. "The Slider has four modes: search, date, transport, and return. We simplified it down to four modes to keep it simple during times of high stress. When activated, the Slider shows you the direction of an available vortex and how long vortex is available while it's in search mode. When you arrive at the vortex you type in the date you want to travel to, walk into the vortex, and push transport. When you want to return you need to wait for another vortex to open. When it does you walk into the vortex and place the device into return mode. Marvin wanted the device to be easy to use and to understand. But although it's simple to use, it's not a simple device. IYD has only fifteen devices and they are kept locked in a heavily guarded safe in a secret location. It is important that none of these devices go missing. Is that understood?"
We nod our heads. I'm dying to look at the Slider. I can't believe it's possible. I'm scared and excited at the same time.
But more excited than scared. I want a second chance with my mother.
"Now, we'll be watching a video that illustrates how to use the Slider. Watch carefully: you don't want to find yourselves on the other side of the time continuum without the ability to come back."
Dr. Thompson presses a button on the podium and the lights in the room grow dim and then go completely off, throwing the room into darkness. Then the screen in front of the room comes to life.
On the screen is Marvin Winn talking about the Slider. He's older than I expected. I guess all the money in the world can't stop the world from turning on its axis.
"Hello, class. If you're here today, you're one of the lucky few. Congratulations: you're about to become part of history. In more ways than one." He laughs at his own joke.
He looks so much older than the photos I've seen of him. Marvin is a man few people know but who, at the same time, was able to re-shape Las Vegas into what it is today. Rumor is that the guy became obsessed with time travel and started to sell off his casino holdings to see his obsession through. And there he is on screen, showing us how to use the device that represents his life's financial investment.
I take notes on my desktop as he speaks. Dr. Thompson's right. I don't want to get lost in time and space. I listen as closely as I can, though Marvin Winn might as well be speaking Latin.
But I pay special attention to how to use the device.
In times of stress you want to remember how to get back. You don't want to get stuck in the past.
My hand flies across the desktop as I write down everything I need to know how to get back. Everyone else in the class is writing with equal intensity.
\*\*\*
At the end of the video we know the basics on how to use the device and Dr. Thompson is back up in front of the room.
"Any questions?"
A hand shoots in the air. I glance over my shoulder and it's Rick. He's bouncing up and down like he has to pee. He's wearing black pants and a crisp white shirt. The same thing he wears every day. He looks like a cross between an Italian waiter and one of those guys who rides his bike around town trying to get you to believe in God.
I wonder how God fits into Marvin Winn's calculation.
"Yes, Rick?"
"Who gets to go first?"
"Good question." He pauses and looks around the room. "Who wants to go first?"
Rick's hand is back in the air. "Me! I want to go!"
It's like being back on the playground in second grade, picking teams. No one else raises their hands. No one else dares.
I hear a smirk coming from Marcus' corner of the room.
"Any other volunteers?"
No one else makes a move. It looks like Rick has won the chance to be a human guinea pig. Or like Rick is the one he doesn't care if the Party loses.
"Great." Dr. Thompson looks pleased. Like he was worried he'd have to force someone to go. "We'll send Rick first then."
Rick's smile is enormous.
Matt
A bowling ball in a puddle of muck with sticky hair. The hissing sound of the engine. Wheels spinning.
Silence.
The clouds race away and the stars sparkle in the night sky.
I can't stop staring at the bowling ball. I want to reach down and touch it. To move it, place it on the passenger seat where it belongs, even though it's not really a passenger seat any more.
But there shouldn't be hair growing out of a bowling ball.
It's leaking. And it's not leaking water.
I'm scared to touch it.
I swing open the door and start to run.
\*\*\*
I open my eyes.
It's dark. I turn to my side and see the digital alarm on the wall. It's 4:41 AM.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts away.
It's the movie I can't get out of my head.
There should be a special hell for people who carelessly take the lives of others. That's what I was that night. Careless. I wasn't thinking. I was having too much fun. And everybody else paid for my bad decisions with their lives, leaving the movie playing in my head.
My stomach tightens and I feel liquid in my throat. My mouth fills with the taste of metal. I sit up. I can barely remember what it was like to be able to sleep at night without the reel playing in my dreams.
My mouth fills with spit.
When I know what's about to happen, I jump off my bed and run to the bathroom to throw up.
\*\*\*
The weekends at IYD come with a reduced schedule. Assigned reading about political history, the laws of physics, economic theory -- then we're free to do whatever we want, as long as we stay on hotel property. Under any other circumstances, this could've been one of my best summers. IYD is nothing like the stuffy boarding school atmosphere I was expecting. But when I think about it, I don't know why I was expecting anything different. Marvin Winn is famous for creating the ultimate Las Vegas experience.
But it's nothing but background noise -- a place for the others to enjoy. Unless the pool is filled with cyanide, I have little desire to swim in it.
We're sitting by the pool since we're not allowed off the property. So I try to blend in with the others.
And I guess Rick thinks we're best friends. Not that there's anything really wrong with Rick.
He just talks a lot.
And he's out of touch with reality.
"Do you want to see my photos?"
He's got some type of attaché case with him -- an attaché case in the middle of the desert by a pool, if you can believe that. He's wearing board shorts with pictures of rockets and his pasty white skin is already reddening on the shoulders.
"Want to borrow some sunscreen?"
It occurs to him for the first time we're sitting in the middle of the desert in the glaring heat and he's on his way to becoming a cooked lobster. He looks down at his shoulders. They're pink, and deepening. His brow furrows and he presses his finger against the redness. When he takes it away there's a white imprint.
"Um, yeah."
I hand him the tube and he squeezes out half the bottle. He seems totally unfamiliar with lotion application -- if that's possible.
A few minutes later he's pink covered with a layer of white. At least he won't get any pinker. Rick looks like the kind of guy who, if left too long in the sun, would self-combust.
Once he's done with the lotion his focus is back on the attaché case. He places it on his lap, unlatches the front, and then stops. His face looks both excited and scared. Like he's about to let me in on a big secret and he's not sure if it's the right thing to do. I can't imagine what a guy like Rick would have in a briefcase.
"Can I trust you?"
I look around. I can't imagine what Rick's got in the case, but I doubt it's anything I'm going to need to run and tell anyone about.
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Good. Don't tell anybody about what I'm going to show you. It's the reason I came here this summer. The feds could come after me and that would not be good. If the Party finds out what I have in here, they'll interrogate me. I'll get kicked out of IYD."
"Okay." I have to admit I'm curious. I lean forward to get a closer look.
The case is filled with photographs, old newspapers, and magazine clippings. Most of the photos look like they were taken in the forest. Rick looks around. No one is paying attention to us. We're just two guys sitting outside the circle.
"Look at this." He hands over a photo that must be at least a decade old. It's a lake in the forest. In the distance what looks like a bear is beside the lake. "Do you see anything?"
I narrow my eyes to examine the bear. I don't see anything else in the picture. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking at.
"Do you see it?"
"It looks like a bear. Is that what I'm looking at?"
He takes the photo from my hand, examines it, and hands it back. "It's not a bear. Look closer. What do you think it is?"
He's right: it doesn't really look like a bear. It actually looks like a man in a gorilla suit, but I'm not sure why that would drum up so much excitement from him. Then again, the dude is missing the bolts that hold his head together.
"Do you know what it is?" He points right at the creature in the photo.
"No."
"You can't tell?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He scoots closer and lowers his voice. He's so close that sweat drips off his forehead and lands on my leg. He's practically shoving the photo under my nose.
"It's Bigfoot," he whispers. His voice is excited. He's practically panting and his breath smells like a bologna sandwich. He can barely contain himself.
"Huh?" I take the picture back from his hand. It's grainy, so it's hard to make out the creature off in the distance. "Dude, don't let people hear you talking like that. They'll send the Party nurse out here to take a look at you. They'll attach microbes to your head and they'll make you leave the program."
"But you don't understand." He shakes his head and puts the photo back in the briefcase. "My grandfather took that picture. He hunted Bigfoot for years. He told me he saw the government come and take a specimen away. You know where they took him?" He pauses for effect and when I get the sense he's waiting for a response, I shake my head. "They brought him here to Nevada to a secret government location. They had to have; it's the only thing that makes sense.
He hands the picture back to me, like he wants to prove a point. I take a closer look. It just looks like a man in a gorilla suit -- a hoax. But I can tell by looking at Rick that he doesn't think so.
"Impossible." I hand the picture back. "Bigfoot doesn't exist."
Rick looks disappointed. "That's what everyone says. I have proof that shows otherwise."
"Photos can be doctored."
He crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head. "My grandfather wouldn't doctor a photo. He was looking for the truth." He leans forward goes back to whispering. "Look, I'm not only here because I want to join the Party. You can't share what I'm about to say with anyone." He looks around the pool. Everyone is at a safe distance. Sitting next to Rick isn't exactly the most popular place to be. "I came here because the Party is harboring Bigfoot and a flying saucer that crashed over Hanford, Washington. I've been following what's going on around here with satellites. I'm sure the Party is conducting scientific experiments out at IYD. I don't think time travel is the only thing they have up their sleeve."
His words are crazy. "There's nothing out there, nothing but desert and a hole in the ground. If they're hiding anything, they're hiding it pretty good."
"I know. The facility they're hiding is somewhere on the property; it's just not visible from the location of our classes. I'll find it though. I have to find it. It's the reason I came here." His eyes are far away.
"How are you planning on doing that? We're not allowed away from the Party."
He examines our surroundings to make sure no one is listening to us. "Look, I'm part of a group that was able to hack into the governments computers. I've seen proof of a secret facility in the middle of the desert. I'm sure it's on the Party's property. There's more to this than they're letting on."
"I'm sure if it's important then they're not going to let a bunch of high school kids no about it," I offer, stating the obvious.
"Maybe not now, but wait. Wait until we're initiated into the Party. It's why I'm here."
I'm about to say something else when Liam walks out to the pool and waves us inside for dinner.
The conversation is over, at least for today.
Matt
A knock on the door awakens me from a deep sleep. I was napping. Violet was in my dreams. My life was the way I always pictured it -- but that was before the accident and the Party started recruiting and invited me to learn more about their philosophy. Now nothing is the way it should be.
A loud rap echoes through my room. It won't let up.
The knock can only mean one thing.
Something's wrong.
I stretch my arms above my head and breathe in deeply through my lungs. My chest expands and tightens, then loosens as carbon monoxide spills into the air. I listen for another knock, but there's nothing. When I'm sure whoever was outside is gone I get out of bed and open the door.
The hallway is empty. Whoever was here took off fast. I step out, peer this way and that. Someone has taped a gold envelope on all my fellow students' doors.
Including mine.
Meet in the Joshua Tree Conference Room at 11:00 AM.
Lunch will be served.
Don't be late.
I turn the postcard over. The back is blank.
The Party wants to see us. It's Sunday afternoon and the Party members should be in their rooms on the upper floors enjoying time with their families.
Being summoned by the Party on the weekend can only mean one thing.
Something's gone wrong.
\*\*\*
The conference room is a giant box with a wall covered by a screen. It's almost like the movie theatre Mom took me to as a kid. I remember seeing Taxi Driver in the theatre with her. It was an old theatre with seats that made your butt itch when you sat down. They replayed movies for a dollar on Friday nights. Friday nights were date night for Mom and I. Lynette Ryan was my mom's favorite actress.
We used to sit and watch the movies that were meant for adults while I munched on popcorn.
I actually think mom cried when Lynette died.
At 11:00 Liam leads us into the room and he directs us to a banquet size table surrounded by chairs. Members of security lean against the wall, watching our every move. Lunch is on the table.
We sit down. The room is quiet. Tense. The sound of the giant air conditioner blowing Freon-filled air into the room is the only sound.
The door opens and a sharp beam of light floods the room. I squint against the invasion. It's Lisa and Dr. Thompson. They're wearing white lab coats. The light follows them into the room until the door slams behind them, turning the room back into a cave.
"Good, you're here." Lisa is out of breath, like she's been running. In the dim light I can see that her normally white as paint skin is flushed red. She takes a remote out of the pocket of her lab coat and aims it at the immense screen on the wall. She looks like she's spent the afternoon in a fit of panic. "We have a lot to discuss. I wanted to make you aware of what's occurred before the news got to you from outside sources."
The screen illuminates and images appear in front of us. It's Kyle Everson, the Party's leading candidate for the next presidential race.
And he's with a girl ...
Who's not his wife.
"This is why Winn theory is important. Why we need you to go back and fix the things that will show up when it's time for you to take a leadership role. We can't give the opposition a reason to instigate an uprising. We can't have people fight against us. We need voters to believe the Party has the best leadership has to offer. We can't have..." she waves her arm towards the screen, "...this. It's not acceptable. It doesn't instill belief in the Party. "
Lisa crosses her arms over her chest, her face etched in disgust. She's obviously not a fan of men who roam away from their wives.
Dr. Thompson takes a spot next to Lisa and gives us a serious look. "We need a detailed outline of anything significant from your past that you need to erase. This is the first year we're using the Slider for the benefit of the Party. There are so many possibilities, but for the purpose of those of you sitting in this room it will be for you to go back and change the past. Anything you think will reflect badly on the Party, we need to now about it, along with the dates of the occurrence. We'll be passing out a form. It's due in class tomorrow morning. And it needs to be thorough. Don't hold anything back."
I avert my eyes to the floor. They know why I'm here. They know everything about me, about all of us. Everyone knows about that night. It was featured on the front page of every news source.
Matt Fenton, All-American Athlete Driver, in Deadly Accident.
I'm a household name.
And not in a good way.
"There are so many mistakes politicians have in their past. A hundred years ago? Wouldn't have mattered. There used to be secrets. Men had wives. All they needed was their wife to look the other direction. No one looks the other way now. You can't walk out the front door without your every movement being tracked. And politicians? Everyone knows everything they do. We need votes. And to get votes we need perfect Party members. We need support from America. We need them to agree to the minimal amount of natural resources we're willing to provide. And we need you all..." Dr. Thompson points at each of us, "to be the perfect specimens. To be the best representatives for the Party and to not end up," he motions to the photo of Kyle Everson behind him, "like this."
I look back to the photo. The girl is young. Her hair is long, black, and she's wearing a low cut blouse. She looks about his daughter's age. I wonder what that's like, to have your parent hook up with one of your peers. The girl looks in awe of him, like she has no worries. And she probably doesn't. She's not the leader of America.
"We can't have this." Dr. Thompson shakes his head in disappointment. "It weakens the Party. It's why we're recruiting high school students. You have the chance to be the perfect member. Your mistakes are limited. We can fix them now. We need to stay in power and have the best politicians to stay there. We'll be meeting with each of you to outline a course of action to fix the ills of your past."
We nod our heads in unison to the illuminated backdrop of Kyle Everson.
Matt
"Matt, tell us about the accident."
Lisa sits across from me in her white lab coat, her back straight as a board, with one leg crossed over the other. The eighth floor room is small and windowless. This is where they drag you when you've done something wrong. God knows I've done everything wrong. I might as well just live in this room.
Her look is intense. Like she's trying to see straight through me. She wants the truth.
And I have no problem giving it to her.
"I drove home from a party with a car full of friends."
"Were you drinking?" She's so anxious she barely lets me finish my sentence.
"Yes."
She knows this; everyone knows this. I don't know why she has to ask.
"A lot?"
"Enough."
She nods her head. "Drinking and driving, we can't have that on your record, can we?" She takes notes. "And people were hurt?" She pulls out a sheet of paper with my background information. "Two people were killed and one person seriously injured. Is that correct?"
I nod my head.
"Is there anything else we should know about? Prior drug use? Other accidents?" She looks down at a sheet of paper. "You're an athlete, no? Athletes are known for taking things they shouldn't. Is there anything else we should know about?"
I shake my head. Like there could be anything any worse than vehicular homicide. "That's the only thing I can think of."
Lisa lets out a deep sigh. "You know, it's too bad, because you are like the perfect apprentice for the Party. You have the looks, the background, the smarts, and the charisma. But you also have this." She holds up a newspaper clipping about the accident. "We have to erase this. We'll send you back to the night. You'll have to re-do everything and then when you come back it will be like nothing happened."
Like nothing happened.
It's just what I wanted to hear.
"Sure."
"You're willing to do this?" She raises an eyebrow at me. "You're willing to go back and go through this all again?"
"I'm willing to do anything to be a Party member." I feel the acid fill my mouth when I say it. It's a good thing they don't hook you up to a lie detector. There's no way I would ever pass.
"That's great, Matt. That's the attitude we need. We'll draw up a plan for you. All you need to do is stick to it. Don't go outside what we ask. If you do, you might never come back."
I nod my head. "I'll only do what you ask. You don't have to worry about me."
"Good," she says like she can't believe it's so easy.
She puts a consent form in front of me. I look over the details. But it doesn't matter if I don't follow their rules. I won't be coming back. We'll be on different planes of existence. It's not like she'll be able to come searching for me.
Farrah-Kate
Lisa sits across from me in a white lab coat. I'm freezing: all I have on is shorts and a t-shirt pulled over my swimsuit. I didn't expect to meet with Lisa today. I was ready to go out to the pool, not sit in a freezing room across from a woman who likes to pretend like she's some kind of doctor.
"Tell us, Farrah, what do you remember about your mother?"
I remember her hiding in her room after auditions, I remember her crying for no reason, I remember her changing her clothes ten times a day and never being happy with what she was wearing...
"She was a great actress."
Lisa nods her head and examines me across the table. I want to sink in a hole. I hate being questioned about my mother. I came here to help her, not expose all her weaknesses.
It looks like Lisa is doing the opposite. She reaches down and places a briefcase on the table. She opens the case and brings out a pile of magazines. Old celebrity magazines from back in a time when the Internet wasn't flooded with photos of celebrities and magazine photos were worth serious money.
Back in a time when there were secrets.
It seems like a million years ago.
Lisa spreads the magazines across the table. Pictures of Mom at clubs, pictures with men, passed out in the front seat of a car...
She was an alcoholic, she had drug problems, and she was unreliable. The media liked to give her all sorts of labels -- but to me she was my mother.
The worst of the photos are to my right.
The fact that the paparazzi posted photos of my mother's body after jumping from the roof of the South Beverly Hotel was a big story. Celebrity news didn't make a habit of posting photos of dead celebrities. It was in bad taste. But it was the shock era and everyone was trying to make an extra buck. The photos that were taken before the police could come and clean up the mess sold for $2.5 million. Those photos still haunt me today. I can't get them out of my mind. I would do anything to erase that memory. IYD is the place that can finally make my wish come true.
"We need to do something about this." Lisa shoves the magazines with my mother's crumpled body in my direction. I look at a painting on the wall that's behind her head. It's a painting with a million colors. The colors blend together so that you can't tell where one color ends and the other begins ... kind of like the movement of time from the past to the present.
I turn my eyes towards Lisa. "What would you like me to do?"
"We'll send you back. We know you can't be there long enough to change everything. But," she shoves a magazine at me and I know it's Mom's twisted body without having to take a look, "you can change this. You'll have to if you are serious about becoming a Party member. Suicide is a sign of weakness. And it's hereditary. Mental illness runs in families. You passed the Party's psych test, but you can't have this in your past. It will make you a target of the opposition."
My eyes glance down to the magazine. It's the sidewalk in front of the South Beverly. A crowd of people stand gathered in a circle. Tragedy always attracts an audience.
Her head is twisted to the right. The photographer of this particular photo is standing right alongside her. These were the photos that got the highest bid. Her eyes were open. Looking at the photo, it's like she's staring right at me.
"Farrah?"
It comes from a million miles away. I look back at Lisa.
"Do you think if we send you back you can change your past?"
I look at the photo one more time. I'd do anything to make it go away.
"Yes."
I have to.
"Good, because Dr. Thompson has his doubts. You were very young when this happened. We're worried you won't be able to handle it. Marvin Winn believes in you though, so don't let him down. He thinks you can give your mom another chance."
I look down at the photos. Mom is staring right at me. Everything and nothing took her to that place on the sidewalk. I'd do anything to bring her back.
Rick
The thing with people like Lisa is she has no idea what she's talking about.
No idea.
I mean, she's wearing her official Party uniform like it automatically makes her a know-it-all, like all you have to do is dress the part and it happens. And that lab coat! It's nice, but Dr. Thompson is the only doctor on the Party's staff.
I'm not sure what Lisa thinks she is. She thinks she can get it out of me. The real reason I'm here. Like I'd share something like that. She keeps asking me her carefully planned questions.
But I know better.
"Now, Rick. There was an unfortunate incident where you stole your father's password and got into government computers. Do you remember that?"
I sit across from her, staring at the red lipstick that's smeared across her teeth. Her face is greasy. But she's smug. Like she knows something I don't.
"Yeah, I know about that." I cross my arms in front of my chest. I wonder if she can read my mind. But I doubt it. She's too ... ordinary. She's not one of us. She's outside the intellectual elite.
"You have to change it. You'll have to go back and re-do the break in. Hacking into government computers is frowned on by the Party." She pauses and her grin becomes all teeth. They[re white teeth with splashes of red. "Well, it's frowned on because it's a crime. We're interested in your computer skills. Still, you need to change that night. We can't have Party members with criminal records."
"Fine."
Her brow wrinkles. It's brief, but it's there, like she didn't think it'd be this easy. And what she doesn't realize is that it's not.
"I have a list."
She pushes it across the table at me. It's short. It's nothing really. Go back to the night I stole Dad's password and hacked the government's computers and don't do it. And it's fine. Because I don't need them anymore. I have the ePrivacy for searching now. It's a privilege that they're sending me back. I found what I was looking for through the government's own computers. I need to become a member of the Party. That's all I care about now. I need to get out to the facility to see what they're hiding from us. I know it's there. I just need someone to take me to the location.
And she's not smart enough to know the computers in the business center aren't as secure as she thinks. They're not secure at all if you know what you're doing. She doesn't know about the ePrivacy device. She's lucky that I'm the only trainee that's looking for the truth.
"So, you think it's something you can do?"
"Of course, no problem, it'll be a piece of cake, as long as you let me go first. I only care about going first. I have to be the first. I want my place in history."
"Well, good." Her smile has no happiness behind it. "That was easy. It won't be much longer. It's almost time."
I nod my head. I am 100% about the Party.
\*\*\*
Maria is at the desk again. I suspect she works seven days a week. Maybe she's got kids at home she's trying to support or maybe she's trying to gain favor with the Party.
For the underclass joining the Party is their only hope.
She greets me as I come in. "Hello, Rick. It's nice to see you today."
We're on a first name basis now. Good. I give her a broad smile. She's filing her nails. I'm sure Maria has the nicest nails at the hotel.
"Just came in to check the news online."
"Great, they're all open. You're one of the only trainees interested in getting online."
"Thanks."
I take the same computer as before and when I'm sure I'm only being monitored by the camera above the room I sweep my thumbnail across the back of the computer and place on the device. The screen splits in two and I go to ESPN on the Party's monitored site.
Then I'm looking at Area 31. I focus in on the location. It's so stupid the government would allow satellites to be trained on this spot. Now there's a tent. A huge white tent surrounded by tanks. It looks like it's the size of the Las Vegas Strip and all the hotels could fit inside. I move the view around, vying for a peek at whatever it's hiding.
Movement catches my eyes. A truck drives up to the security gates, followed by two more. They're military, but not US military: they have a single star on the door. These are Party vehicles. They park outside the gate and a man with an assault rifles checks inside each vehicle. I cross my fingers that he'll lift the back of the tarp up to check the freight. He walks to the second truck and checks the ID. The driver and the security guard talk. I wish the satellites had sound. I try to read their lips, but I can't make out anything they say.
The two trucks move forward and the guard approaches the last truck. I watch him check the ID and move around to the back. This truck is larger than the rest. The bed of the vehicle looks to be twice the size of the others.
The guard lifts the tarp. My breath catches in my throat. I can see the edge of what looks to be a cage.
Something reaches out and grabs his arm. It happens so fast. The security guard is pulled against the cage. I watch him try to get control of his gun. Whatever has him, the arm doesn't look human.
The arm from the cage pulls harder and the man's mouth opens in a big circle. It looks like his arm will be ripped off. Three security members who were standing at the gates come running to the back of the vehicle. One starts pulling the tarp...
"Hey, what are you doing back here?"
I look up. It's Casey. She's walking my direction. I shut down the browser with the satellite feed and I'm back on ESPN. I scrape my thumbnail across the back of the computer to retrieve the device.
"Hi." I smile. I know I'm sweating, but we're in Nevada and it's hot here in the summer, even if the air conditioning is blowing directly in my face.
"Anything interesting going on?" She logs into the computer on the opposite aisle from where I'm sitting and Winn Hotel appears on the screen.
"Not anything I'm interested in." It's a safe answer. I have no idea what's going on in the news. No clue.
"I hate not having a computer in my room. I feel so disconnected." She starts browsing Party-approved websites.
"Yeah, me too," I stand up. "Well, it was good to see you. I'm going to head back to my room."
She frowns. I can tell she thinks I'm leaving because I don't want to talk to her, but it's not true. I'm leaving because I can't do anything online with someone else in the room.
She says, "Bye," and returns to the news story she was reading.
"See you later."
I walk out of the room.
Matt
"We're all time travelers."
Dr. Thompson stands in front of the room with the wall black behind him. He presses a button on his controller and the screen lights up with a picture of the universe. Spiral and elliptical galaxies glow against the night sky. Millions of stars dust the sky with their light. I look at the empty spaces in front of me and imagine black holes. The universe is full of them. I can't believe how many galaxies exist in the universe. If you think about it too hard, it will make feel like a speck of dust.
A speck of dust on a speck of dust.
"Just think about it. You're always moving forward. You are traveling in time at every moment. What has been a mystery until now is how you can escape the time continuum and go to another place. Marvin Winn has been funding the Slider for the last fifteen years. Last year, after thousands of hours of painstaking research the device was able to locate the vortexes that exist all around us."
Our desks light up with today's lesson.
The Past is All Around Us.
"Think about it," Dr. Thompson starts. "Think about light. Light travels in time. What you don't think about is that when you look into the sky, you're looking into the past. What Marvin has been funding the research for is how you can go backwards on the space-time continuum. How we can go from where we are now to a point in time that's already happened."
Out of the corner of my eye I see Shannon with her hand in the air. Shannon always has a question. It's like asking a question is the only way she knows she exists.
"Where is time happening? Is it far away?"
Dr. Thompson claps his hands together. The guy loves getting questions from eager students. "Great question. Time is everywhere. It's finding the open wrinkles that will allow you to travel to a different place that makes the Slider necessary. Time is all around you. You just can't see it because of where we lie on the plane of time. Your entire life is repeating itself on the time continuum. Getting to where you want to go is the reason you are here. This summer we will be testing the Slider and it will give you the opportunity to go to a different place."
I think about what Dr. Thompson said. Time is all around us. All my life is happening someplace, somewhere, in every little moment. Somewhere Violet is dying again. Somewhere she is still alive. She's buried six feet underground. She's starring in her pre-school's first play. We're at prom. We're kissing for the first time under the bleachers.
She deserved so much more than an ending before her high school graduation. And the Slider is what's going to allow me to give her another chance.
And I could care less if I ever come back.
"With the Slider you can go back and visit a period of your life in the past. You'll be there, experiencing that moment of time just as it occurred. But you can only make changes to events on the list Lisa gave to each of you. Anything more will cause a wrinkle in the time continuum. A wrinkle in time is a very bad thing. You need to be very careful in the past."
Marcus has his hand in the air this time. "Yes, Marcus?"
"What happens if you go outside the list?"
Dr. Thompson looks at the ground before he speaks. "Remember Norris Chen? Last year he was the student chosen to travel. Last year we wanted to be where we are now with the research. We wanted to send all the students of the first year at IYD into the past. We've done a lot of work on the Slider since last year after the incident. We still don't know what went wrong. He stepped into the vortex and didn't come back. After he disappeared, we were not able to find any record of his existence. It was like he wasn't born."
"How is that possible?" Marcus is sitting on the edge of his seat. He's not the only one hanging on every word.
"Another good question. Right now, it's a mystery. We have our theories on what occurred, but we can't be sure. We weren't expecting to have a student completely disappear from existence. It's why we need each of you to follow the instructions for the travel and using the Slider. We can't have any more accidents. It's important to the Party that the Slider works just as planned. Marvin Winn has dedicated his financial fortune to time travel. We need to have a successful summer to ensure the project is able to go forward."
"So nobody knows what happened to Norris Chen?"
Dr. Thompson shakes his head. "Nobody has any idea what happened to Norris. He was scrubbed from the plain of existence. The only reason we know he ever existed is because his time here is well documented."
The room is silent.
The reality of what we're doing sinks in.
Norris Chen scrubbed himself from existence. Maybe he tried to change something. Maybe he got lost.
Either way, he didn't come back.
My decision has sealed my fate.
\*\*\*
We eat lunch in the IYD cafeteria. Voices buzz around my head while I stare at the lunch buffet. Anything you could imagine is available. I stare at a plate of stew. Rick comes up behind me with a tray brimming with pasta and bread.
I have no idea how he stays so skinny.
"You going to eat or are you just going to stare at it?" He nods his head to the stew I'm standing in front of.
"I'm going to eat."
"Then load up. We only have an hour and then it's back to class."
"Good point." I scoop spoonfuls of stew onto my plate and grab a roll plus a carton of milk. I know it's boring, like a school kid's cafeteria lunch when I have so many options, but I'm not here to eat.
I follow Rick to a table. Everyone else is split across two long tables, but Rick walks past our classmates towards the back of the room and sits down. We're far away from the rest of the group. And it looks weird.
"What? You got cooties or something? What are we doing all the way back here?"
Rick takes a bite of his sandwich and waves his hand in the air. I decide to dig into my stew. Even if it's something that could be ordered anywhere, the taste is amazing.
Rick finishes chewing and takes a drink of the soda in front of him. "Do you really think it's going to work?"
"What?"
He looks around the cafeteria, his eyes resting on the security guards at the door before he turns his attention back to me. "The Slider. Do you think it's going to work or am I going to end up like Norris Chen?"
"I thought you wanted to go first. Why did you volunteer if you weren't sure?"
"I am sure, I'm just ... I don't know. What happened to that guy? How is it possible he doesn't even exist anymore?"
I shrug. I'm not scared to go back in time or what will happen to me. What I'm scared of is not being able to save Violet. It's never seemed like an option. "They said they've been working on it; fine-tuning the Slider."
"Yeah, but they haven't sent anyone back yet. I'll be the first. What if I end up in some kind of time warp and I can't get out? What will I do?"
"You'll follow the instructions in the booklet that Dr. Thompson provided. You'll be able to access directions to anything that goes wrong from the Slider's menu. Don't be scared, Rick: it will be fine. The Party has been pumping millions of dollars into research." I say it as much to convince him as to convince myself. It has to work.
It has to.
He exhales, like he's been holding his breathe the entire time we've been speaking. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just needed some reassurance. It's getting closer. It won't be much longer until I visit my past."
I nod my head. In the distance I see Farrah and Casey get up and put their trays away. Lunch is wrapping up and it's time to head back to learn more about the theory that will change everything that's wrong in my life.
\*\*\*
"You must understand that changing past events alters history."
Dr. Thompson stands in front of the room in a crisp white coat. It's like IYD has a wardrobe of white coats for Dr. Thompson. He regards each of us with the intensity of a person sharing something of life or death importance.
And maybe it is. Maybe the travel isn't as safe as IYD would like us to believe. Maybe Rick's onto something. Maybe his lunchtime panic attack wasn't just a call for reassurance.
We're nothing but human guinea pigs. They always choose the young ones to experiment on. It's why the minimum age to join the military service is eighteen. Not because they're young and fit. It's because they need to find people crazy enough to risk their lives for their country.
It's all a big conspiracy.
Shannon has her hand in the air. Shannon is the girl with many questions. "If it alters the future, will we still be here?"
Dr. Thompson's face turns serious. I've gone from barely awake to fully alert. I need to know what I'm getting myself into.
"Any change you make will reverberate through the space-time continuum. It could have a dramatic affect on history and the present. World altering. We will tell you what we want you to change before you go back. We don't want you to change anything else. If you do, you may not be able to return. If you don't return you won't be able to become a member of the Party. You'll remain an outsider."
The words sink in, but I'm undeterred. I'm going back in time to try to turn off the reel of that night and give Violet another chance. I'll find a way around the laws of nature to make it happen.
I don't give a crap about the Party.
"Will we die if we don't come back?" It's Shannon again. Her expression had gone from eager to concerned.
"Not necessarily, although it is possible. Most likely you'll just be stuck in the past."
Stuck in the past. Big deal. If it brings Violet back then I'll gladly stay behind.
The Party wasn't as big back then anyway. It might be better to be stuck there, in a different time.
Then the conversation moves forward. Dr. Thompson has our full attention. He spends the class discussing the laws of nature behind Winn Theory. I'm listening, grasping some of the laws, letting the others pass over my head like a breeze in the wind.
Rick is furiously taking notes on his desk. The writing from his electronic pencil glows, lighting up the space behind him. He's not going to miss anything. He's writing like his life depends on it -- and maybe it does. Marcus is doing the same. I pick up my pencil and start writing. I need to at least pretend like I care.
Casey has her hand in the air this time. "So are people in the future traveling back here? How do we know we're not surrounded by time travelers? How do we know that there aren't travelers working in the government that are threatening our existence? What if members of the opposition are here to take us down?"
Rick sits up straighter. This detour in the conversation is right up his alley. According to Rick there are time travelers everywhere.
And danger.
"Good question, Casey. The Party is always looking for threats to our future. There may be travelers around us, but for now they remain undetected."
"So are there time travelers here? Are they all around us?"
Dr. Thompson shakes his head. "As far as we know, there have been no documented time travelers. Is it a possibility? Yes. But we've carefully combed through history records and have not been able to uncover any proof of their existence. It's why your summer here at IYD is so important. This is the first documented time anyone has been able to travel in time. And you are the people making history."
Out of the corner of my eye I see Rick shake his head. Dr. Thompson is looking the other way and doesn't notice. Rick believes it's already happened. Rick believes a lot of things that may or may not be true.
"But," Shannon continues, "theoretically, if time is happening all around us, shouldn't we be able to see other moments in time? Wouldn't there be people we would come across that were living in a different place on a time continuum?"
"Another good question. Let's not forget the expansion of the universe here. As the universe expands outward, so too expands the location of everything in it. We're all moving; it's just not something most people think about. While time is happening, every moment happens in a new place. That's why we need the Slider. We need to travel through vortexes in time to get to the other place."
Shannon nods her head like it makes perfect sense. Like all the theories Dr. Thompson comes up with are easy to understand. Not that it matters anyway. I'm pretty sure that we're all just guinea pigs, people to test out the hypothesis on.
I can't help but ask, because I have to know. "So what happens after you change your past?"
Dr. Thompson walks down the aisle to where I'm sitting. It feels like a threat. Like he can read my mind and is on to me.
I wonder if mind reading is something they're working on at IYD. If they can develop a device that can locate vortexes to travel back in time, then I doubt reading my mind is an impossibility.
"You need to carefully follow the directions we provide you before you go back. Doing anything more could be disastrous." He pauses dramatically, looking at each of us in turn, so that the gravity of what he says sink in. "Have you ever heard of the Butterfly Effect?"
Shannon nods her head. "Yeah, a butterfly flapping its wings can affect something hundreds of miles of way."
Dr. Thompson returns to the front of the room. "That's the layman's version. The Butterfly Effect is based on chaos theory and comes from the work of Edward Lorenz. Essentially, a minor change can have a significant impact on events." He begins to pace. "For instance, let's say you go back in time and decide to play in a baseball game you sat out of in the past. Seems pretty minor, right?" I look around the room and everyone is nodding their heads. "Imagine if you hit the ball out of the field and it breaks the windshield of a car in left field. Then let's say the owner of the car tries to drive home with the broken windshield and some glass flies into his eye and he gets into an accident. The victim in the other car dies. The problem is, the victim is a foreign diplomat on his way to deliver important, top-secret news to his country. Only he can't deliver it now, sending the country into war. It might sound far-fetched, but it's not. It's why you have to follow our directions when you go back."
I hear what Dr. Thompson is saying, and I don't care. Violet is the reason I'm here, the only reason I'm pretending to have any interest in the Party. As long as I can make Violet okay again then nothing else matters.
The wheels are already in motion for me.
I need a chance to make a change.
Matt
Last year the Slider didn't work and one of the students was lost. The rumors about Norris Chen have been circulating through IYD all summer. It's what has Rick so freaked out. He knows Norris didn't come back and he's worried he'll be next.
It was a big deal and the feds threatened to shut down IYD for testing a device that wasn't safe on the general public. Lawyers for IYD argued that the students signed a waiver, releasing the Center from liability, and that everyone that comes to IYD knows the risks associated with the program. Now the Party has too much clout and government officials are joining up.
The lost student's name was Norris Chen. The loss was really hush-hush. I read a small blurb online about the accident. But then everything about Norris Chen was erased. Like he never existed.
Today's the day we find out the truth about what really happened to the lost student.
The room is quiet. The normal morning buzz is nonexistent. It's one thing to be excited about traveling to another time. It's quite another to find out that one of the prior travelers didn't return.
At 9:30 Dr. Thompson walks to the front of the room. Today he's wearing -- as usual -- a white lab coat. His expression is stoic and the look matches the mood in the room.
He picks up the remote and the screen lifts up. We're looking at last year's students. Norris Chen is standing in front of us.
We're about to see what happened.
"Class," Dr. Thompson starts. The figures from last year move around on the screen behind him, but there's no sound. They are just bodies moving and nothing else. "It's time to talk about the most important aspect of the Slider." He motions back to the screen behind him. "Rule number 2: You can only change what's listed on your instruction manual. Beware of the Butterfly Effect." He looks around the room, giving each of us a hard stare. "It is imperative that you don't do anything outside the guidelines. Last year we lost a student. We still don't know for sure what happened, but it almost ended up shutting down the entire program. We can't have anything like that happen again. Marvin Winn has put million of dollars into this program and we need to make sure everything goes exactly as planned. We've gone back over the tape more than a hundred times. We have a shortened video of that day. It's an example of what not to do during the Slide. Let's take a look."
Dr. Thompson lifts the remote and points it at the screen. Last year's students start to move. They're out in an open field, holding what appears to be an older version of the Slider. Norris Chen was a senior at Bellevue High School in Washington State, a kid whose dad worked at NASA and had a full ride at MIT. He was the exact kind of guy who would be perfect for a summer at IYD testing one of the biggest breakthroughs in science ever.
Only he slid into the past and didn't come back.
"What you are about to see is our missing student locate a vortex. He programs his destination and disappears. This is the last time anyone saw Norris Chen. We have no idea what happened to him after stepping into the past. We've done research to see if it's possible he's shown up somewhere else, and nothing. This cannot happen again. It's imperative that everyone we send into the slide comes back. If we have anymore unexplainable accidents, the program will be shut down."
Dr. Thompson's words bounce off the walls.
No more incidents.
But what if I decide not to come back? Then what will happen?
Will they shut down the program because of me?
I can't mess anybody's life up any more than I already have. My time at IYD is to make things better. Not worse. Dr. Thompson said they can't have any more unexplainable incidents. But what if the incident was explainable and I didn't come back on purpose?
But how would they ever know?
I glance at Farrah on the other side of the room. I'm sure I know why Farrah is here. She's looking to go back for the same reason I am.
Redemption.
A second chance.
Maybe Farrah's the one person I can trust with my past.
The video shows Norris program the Slider. The room fills with gasps as a wavy hole in the air appears. Norris goes running into the waves. You can almost see the past in the waves. Like time could jump out of the hole and into the present. Norris enters the waves and disappears. It's the last time he's seen.
"Class, what you just witnessed was the last time someone entered a vortex. Rick will be our first successful traveler next week, followed by Matt. We need to make sure that we have everything set up right so you can return. We cannot lose another student."
"How is it possible that he just disappeared?" Rick asks.
"That's the discussion for today. We believe that one of two things happened last year. Either Norris went back in time and tried to change something, or that something went wrong as he programmed the Slider and he ended up in a parallel universe."
"A parallel universe?"
"Yes. Several different universes co-exist. One of the possibilities is that Norris got lost in time and ended up in a parallel universe and wasn't able to find his way back. That's why he his existence was scrubbed here. But we believe the most likely thing is he tried to change something and caused a wrinkle in time that affected his return."
Silence.
Everyone takes in what Dr. Thompson said. I can tell people are scared. If something goes wrong, going back in time threatens to erase us from existence. Or send us to a parallel universe.
I'm not scared.
There's nothing for me here.
I want to go back.
\*\*\*
Dr. Thompson continues with his lecture. Winn Theory states that time is happening all around us. I look around the room. I don't see time everywhere. All I see is what is happening around me. There's no evidence that anyone can skip around the time continuum.
Shannon raises her hand for, like, the one hundredth time. The girl is filled with questions and curiosities
"If time is happening everywhere, then what happens when you die?"
Dr. Thompson claps his hands together. He looks pleased. "Another good question, Shannon. I'm glad you have your thinking cap on." He looks around the room. "Think about it: if time is happening everywhere. If there are universes parallel to the one we live in now, then you never die. You're always living somewhere."
You never die.
I think of Violet. Is she alive somewhere?
"But you do die," I interrupt. Everyone turns around and looks at me. Like there's an invisible voice speaking from the back of the room or something. Or like they forgot I'm here. I shift in my seat under everyone's eyes. I don't like to be the center of attention. It's been a long time since I wanted anyone to even notice that I'm in a room.
"Yes, good point, Matt. Death is the one thing that everyone has in common with time. You are born, you live the trajectory of your life, and then your time ends. That's the reality that we know. But, somewhere else on the time continuum, you are still alive. Every second that ever existed is happening somewhere. It's making the jump from now until then that's the hard part."
I consider what he says. It both makes sense and doesn't. If time is happening all around us, and we're always alive somewhere, then why do we get so upset at death?
"Then why's it so hard when someone dies?"
"Good question. Because on the plane of existence that you are conscious of, you have no way of reaching out to the dead. You don't know where they are, nor do you have the ability to reach out to them, but you shouldn't feel a complete loss when someone close to you dies. They're still alive in another point in time."
"But they will die the same way each time?"
"Yes, Matt, that's the hard part."
Dr. Thompson continues his lecture while I try to wrap my mind around what he said. I try to picture every moment of my life happening in space. It's invisible to me.
The one thing I can't imagine is living the accident over and over again or living death in a loop; the replay of a life with so many possibilities that's ruined abruptly.
I can't let Violet stay there, having her life snuffed out over and over again.
I need to give her a second chance.
Farrah--Kate
Except for the glow of the TV, the room is dark. I'm sitting on the couch in the common area with my knees pulled up to my chest, watching the scene I've seen a thousand times when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I search my peripheral vision for the source of the movement. I thought everyone was in bed. The last thing I need is for my roommates to see me watching this movie again.
Especially Matt.
When I don't see anything I look around, searching. The room is empty and quiet. But then I hear something and this time I'm sure it's not my imagination. I turn my head towards the source of the noise and I'm met with the real reason I came to Nevada in the middle of the summer to become an apprentice for a political party: Marvin Winn.
"Hello," he says. He's standing in the shadows but I can make out his diminutive figure. Up close he looks older, shorter. His hair is greyer than in the pictures, and he's bent over, as if gravity is trying to pull him back down from where he came.
I want to speak but my tongue's stuck to the bottom of my mouth. I keep trying to formulate words but my mouth just can't conjugate them. I try one more time: "Pfft..."
"Cat got your tongue, girl?"
"Uh ... no..."
"Say something then."
"Pfft..." Maybe the cat does have my tongue.
He steps closer to me. "Are you a mute? We don't allow mutes at IYD. If you can't speak I'm going to have to send you home. Only healthy youths are allowed at IYD. Anyone with special needs is expelled from the institute." He comes closer and stands right in front of me, blocking my view of the TV. My heart beats in my ears and I shake my head to make the noise go away. He's short, like my height, his heavily wrinkled skin reminds me of my neighbor's Shar Pei, and he smells stale, like a visit to my grandmother's house.
He tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to say something. He keeps coming closer and I realize that if I don't say something soon, he'll be standing on top of me.
Finally, I spit, "Hi. I'm Farrah Ryan."
"Yes, I already know who you are. What are you doing up so late? Don't you have class in the morning?"
"Yes."
He pauses as if he's waiting for me to say something else. The only sound in the room is the TV in the background. "Then don't you think you should be in bed? I don't run this Institute to have people showing up late for class and slacking off. The Party is serious about our students' attentiveness."
"Of course, sir. I'll get right to bed."
"Good. We need to make sure all the students are wide-awake and ready for the day. Now turn the TV off."
I reach for the remote control and for the first time he actually notices what's on the screen. He waves his arthritic hand in the air and I set the remote back down. Next thing I know he's joined me on the couch, sitting on the far edge, watching the movie.
Several minutes pass and I don't know what to do. I watch him across from me. The distance is both safe and uncomfortable. Suddenly tired, I stifle a yawn.
He breaks the silence. "You look like her..." He doesn't turn my direction.
I squint my eyes through the dark room at the TV. She's on the screen, wearing skinny pants and a polyester jacket. I trace her face with my eyes. I wish I looked like her. A lot of people think I look like my dad. "Really? You think so?"
"You could be twins. It's as if I've gone back in time twenty years and there she is." He looks over at me and back at the TV. "Spitting image is what you are. She was a lot of fun, your mom. She used to come out to Vegas quite a bit before you were born. She'd bring her friends... That was before she married your dad, of course. After they were married we didn't see her anymore."
My brow furrows. "You knew my mom?"
"Oh yeah, Lynnette was a Vegas regular..." He turns and looks at me, his eyes piercing me through the dark. "She'd be real proud of you coming out here for the summer. I know if she could see you now she'd be real proud."
I lower my head. "Thanks," is all I can think of to say.
Then the room goes silent. The movie ends and the credits roll against a gently drifting soundtrack. Marvin pushes himself up off the couch, the movement in slow motion, and when he steadies himself he says one last thing. "Don't disappoint her. Even though she's not here I know she's watching." Then he turns and walks towards the front door, leaving me alone in a room lit by TV snow.
Rick
It's almost time to go. I'm still first. And being first secures my place in the history books. That's all that matters. People go around life worrying about the littlest things no one will ever think about again. Not me. I only care about the big stuff. Time travel is big. And nothing is bigger than being the first.
Matt's right: there's no reason to panic. Dr. Thompson has been working on the Slider all year. It's the last hurdle before I'm initiated into the Party. Once I'm one of them they'll let me in on their secrets -- and I want those, too.
And, really, it's so stupid the reason they're sending me back. It's nothing. I'm sure if they wanted to they could scrub all the government computers of my misdeeds. But they want me to make a change.
I really think they're just experimenting on me. Turning me into a human guinea pig. Like I care. They think they can outsmart me? They know nothing. I know they're doing worse than just sending a bunch of high school kids back in time in that tent they have hidden in Area 31. They have no idea I know about the tent.
They're a bunch of amateurs.
They would need to be a lot smarter than that to pull one over me.
\*\*\*
I'm in my hotel room listening through the door, waiting for the sound of activity outside my bedroom to die down. I need to check something before I go -- just a little something -- and I don't want anyone to stop me.
The voices outside my room won't go away. Security. They're talking about the opposition. Forces have been building up. Security has a close eye on what goes on outside the hotel.
But it means nothing because I'm leaving soon, to change my past, to come back as the perfect Party member, a person with nothing to hide.
Or at least nothing to hide that they'll know about.
The voices fade away. I count to a thousand after they're gone. I put my ear to the door. I pretend like I'm stretching. I'm wearing gym clothes. Like I'm going for a little exercise.
The hallway is silent.
It's time for me to go.
\*\*\*
Maria is behind the desk in the business center. She still has her nice smile and is, as usual, filing her nails. She's always filing her nails. Like she's obsessed. She nods at me when I walk in the door.
"Good evening, Rick. I haven't seen you in here lately. The computers are wide open. Choose any one you'd like."
"Hi, Maria. Yeah, they're keeping us pretty busy out at the school."
I pick the computer in the back of the room and wait for Maria to go back to filing. A security guard comes in and starts chatting her up. Her skin flushes red. The guard leans over her desk and whispers something in her ear. She giggles.
Amateurs.
I scrape the ePrivacy device onto the back of the computer and go to the satellite image of Area 31. They've constructed a fence around the tent. The fence looks like it much be at least ten feet tall. It's topped off with barbed wire. A tank sits outside the gate, waiting for intruders. The construction workers are gone. Whatever they've been building is done.
Maria giggles the entire time I'm writing. I pretend like I'm researching. Like I'm taking notes. Because they're watching; they have to be. But all I have is an interest in researching the Party.
I log onto the Conspiraciesrus.com forums. The thread is titled: It's Done. Marcus is the owner of the thread. They've seen the completion of the facility. I wonder if they witnessed the security guard and the beast in the back of the truck that tried to pull off his arm. I look up at Maria and the guard flirting with her. They're deep in conversation so I type a quick message:
It's almost time for me to enter the vortex. I saw they finished the facility in Area 31. Keep the discussion going. If you see anything, post it here. I'm checking messages sporadically.
I log out of the forum and remove the security device. When I'm done I turn off the computer and head out of the center. Maria looks up at me like she forgot I was ever here.
"Get what you need?" she asks.
"Yep, thank you." I glance at the security guard and nod my head. He nods back and goes back to talking to Maria.
I walk as fast as I can back to my room.
Farrah--Kate
The sound of the pool's waterfall and the distant traffic and voices from the street below are the only things I hear. I'm lying on my back on one of the Winn Hotel's lounge chairs staring into the night. It's one of those evenings where I can see for a million miles. The universe is swirling in the sky. Every pin prick represents a moment in time. My mind considers everything Dr. Thompson told us. Time is everywhere. It's happening everywhere. You just have to find the vortex to take you where you want to go.
I take a deep breath. I should go inside; it's getting late and we have our last class in the morning before it's Rick's turn to travel. And after Rick it's Matt's turn. I know it's going to be difficult for Matt going back to that night. I worry about what Matt has planned.
Goosebumps prickle my skin. I feel those before anything else. Something moves and I sit up so quick that stars fill my eyes. I look over my shoulder. Marvin stands at the edge of the pool, leaning on his cane, watching me.
"Nice evening." He walks over to where I'm sitting.
I nod my head. I never know what to say around Marvin. He's allusive: a man that hides in secure offices and in shadows -- a man with a secret and enough money to make anything happen.
And he's the man who holds the key to my past.
"It's a beautiful night," I agree.
He limps to the lounge chair next to where I'm sitting and gingerly lowers himself onto it. His joints creak, pop. He lays back and we both stare at the expansive sky. The only sounds are crickets and cicadas chirping all around us, drowning out the street noise from below.
"You know, there are small wormholes everywhere." He waves his arm in the air as if one will appear in front of us. "Small ones ... they open up for a brief moment and then they're gone. The problem is, no one knew where to find the holes -- not until the Slider was invented. I knew it was possible all along, I was sure of it; I wouldn't have spent my life's fortune it wasn't possible. Dr. Thompson is a genius. I've been looking for these passages in time my whole life and they were here all along." I nod my head. "Now we can find the holes, send people through, and bring them back. But it only works if they go back with the right intentions." He gives me a hard look. I can feel his eyes burning through me, looking for the truth. "What are your intentions, Farrah? You're not going to be like Norris Chen and not return, are you?"
I consider his question. There are so many things I'd like to change about my past, but nothing more than changing what happened to my mother. I'm worried that changing her death is not something that can happen in a day, or a week, or even a month. Mom's entire life led her to the end. Mom got all of her self-worth from acting, and little from anything else. And when the acting jobs dried up, there was nothing left to keep her going. I was too young when Mom died to change the trajectory of her life. I can only go back and change that night. After that I'll have to rely on Mom to try to change the rest.
I start to cry. The years of pain I've built up inside me start to leak out. I'm cracked and my insides are dripping out. My shoulders shake. Poison leaks out through my tears.
Growing up without my mom is the worst thing that happened to me. I imagine all the things that would have been different if she had been around. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween ... I was the only kid without birthday parties. I never brought food for the bake sales. There were no mother-daughter days at the spa.
It was only my dad and I, living in the same house, but not really living together at all.
Marvin gets up and joins me on the couch.
"Farrah, after you help your mom, make sure you come back. It's what your mother would want. She'd want a better future for you. I know it."
I smile at Marvin through my tears. He's such a mystery to the people at IYD. I wonder the real reason he chose to put all of his money towards the creation of the Slider. Why a man who could do anything he wanted would choose to spend all his money, time, and energy trying to send people back in time.
"Farrah, you know, a lot of what happens in life is unfair. People hold things inside that no one on the outside can understand. Go back and change that night, give her another chance. Your mother was a beautiful person -- one of the best. Let her candle die out later."
"I'll do my best. I want to help her. I'd do anything to change what happened."
"Good. I have a feeling you have a lot of great things in your life ahead of you. You need to come back so you can keep going. It's what your mom would have wanted for you anyway. I'm sure of it."
Then we sit in silence, watching the night sky. My eyes drift closed and when I wake up I'm alone next to the pool.
Farrah--Kate
Time ticks towards our destination. It's time for us to return to our pasts to meet our fate. Everyone is on edge, pacing up and down the halls in the hotel and having trouble concentrating at school. Lisa has agreed to let the trainees take a break and Marvin Winn agreed to let us leave the hotel so we could decompress. They're taking us to Lake Mead. It's our first and only break since we came to IYD. Party security agreed to let us off hotel premises as long as we have an escort.
Lake Mead is south of Las Vegas. It's a huge recreation lake that's part of the Colorado River. And it's losing water. It's one of the worst droughts in history. I doubt the Party cares about things like global warming and droughts. As long as they're not going thirsty, I doubt they care at all.
We're out on the lake with jet skis and normal food. It's like a normal summer day and everyone has forgotten what we're about to do. We're having a picnic and playing in the sun. It's perfect.
The guys come in from jet skiing and pop open a cooler and start passing water and soda around. My throat feels like sandpaper. I drink half a bottle of water before taking a break.
"Dude." Rick is sitting in front of me, leaning over to talk to Matt. "Tomorrow's the day. I'll prove to the world that time travel is possible. Dr. Thompson talks about how we can't go forward in time. But the future can go back. That's the one thing he hardly talks about. It's like no one in class ever thought about it."
Matt shakes his head. "What are you trying to get at?"
"Don't you get it? They're already here. I bet Dr. Thompson is one of them. It's probably where the technology came from: it came from the future."
Shannon joins the group. "You're saying Dr. Thompson came from the future?" Her nose is burned from the day out in the sun. We all look like it's time to go home.
"I'm not saying it," Rick looks around nervously. "But it's possible. You know what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I guess anything is possible. So, tomorrow's your big day. Are you nervous?" Shannon gives Rick a curious look.
"Nervous? No! It's meant to be, you know that, right? It's already happened. There's nothing to be scared about!"
"I don't know," Shannon muses. She picks up a rock and throws it into the water. "I'm terrified. I don't want to go but I signed the agreement. All I can think about is what happened to Norris Chen."
"It doesn't matter what happened to Norris though," Rick continues. "He did something wrong. He didn't obey the laws of nature. As long as you'll be able to find a vortex, you'll have nothing to worry about."
Shannon laughs. "How do you know that though? No one has ever successfully time traveled. If you go and come back, you'll be the first! You have no way to know if it will work. It's all part of an experiment with real human beings."
"I know it's going to work, I'm sure of it." Rick tosses a rock out into the lake. It skips along the surface before disappearing into the water.
\*\*\*
Silence encompasses the group. Out on the lake I spot Marcus and Casey bringing the jet skis back in. I get up and move away from my classmates. I need some time to think. Life has been a whirlwind since I came to IYD. We're sitting close to a hill and since the sun will set soon I want to catch the sky turn colors.
My sandals weren't meant for hiking up mountains. My LA flip-flops twist and turn and I step on some very sharp rocks on my way up. I find a smooth boulder to sit on, and turn towards the sun, watching it inch to the horizon, running across the sky as it leaves a pink hue, making its way west, towards LA and away for the night.
"Hey, what's going on?"
I turn around and see Matt, shirtless, his face and the tops of his shoulders sunburned, his normally styled hair curly and loose and highlighted with sun-kissed blonde streaks, plaid board shorts touching his knees.
"Nothing, I just needed some time to think. The whole idea of traveling back in time is freaking me out. And look," I point across the valley, "I can't miss the perfect sunset. It's a beautiful evening."
He looks over towards the west, where the last bit of sun reflects off the hard desert ground. As the sun drifts below the horizon, the sky turns pink, then gently moves to purple.
"Good call," he says after the last bit of light goes down past the hills. He sits down next to me on the rocks. "There's nothing to freak out about. The Slider will either work or it won't, but if you're able to leave, you'll be able to come back."
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"No, I'd never make something up to make you feel better."
He reaches over, puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a tight squeeze. His hand is warm and I'm so close is him I can hear his heart beat. Butterflies jump out of my stomach into my throat.
"Aren't you nervous?"
"No, not at all. I wouldn't have come if I thought it wasn't safe."
"We can't back out now, can we?"
He shakes his head. "No, and do you want to back out? There's a reason you came, isn't there?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
The sky's frail light dies and the sky goes dark. The voices from our classmates float across the air. Stars pin point the sky. Matt pulls me closer and I inhale. His arms envelop me. It's like he's the one person who can understand me. Understand my motivations for being at IYD.
I let myself sink into his embrace.
He leans down and kisses my forehead. He rests his mouth against my cheek. My face grows hot.
"Whatever happens, Farrah, you don't have anything to worry about. Nothing's going to happen to you. Just remember, whatever happens to me doesn't mean the same thing will happen to you. Go back and do what you have to do."
I take a deep breath and Matt's embrace squeezes me tighter.
In the distance Liam pulls the van up to where everyone is gathered.
It's time to go.
Matt stands up and the moment is over. The butterflies drift back to my stomach. The burning I feel in my chest fades away.
We pack up and leave. The bus is quiet on the way back and as we round the corner into Henderson I can see the Strip off in the distance. The light beam from the Luxor pierces the sky and I wonder about the gamblers vacationing in the casinos, placing their bets, praying to make it big, hoping their dreams will come true. They're totally oblivious to what's going on in Winn Hotel.
It's the one thing that's still alive in Las Vegas.
Dreams.
Matt
Rick's up first.
I can't believe the staff at IYD isn't onto him. The kid is bat-shit crazy. He believes in space ships and Bigfoot and little green men who go bump in the night. Maybe he's on to something and we're all just testing subjects for the Party. Either way, he's going first, and that's good. I don't want to be up first. If it were me and I didn't return, they wouldn't let anyone else go. They'd shut down the whole time travel program and ruin it for everyone.
I don't want to destroy Farrah's chance to see her mother. So I'll just let Rick go. We need to know if it's going to work anyway.
And maybe that's the reason they're letting Rick go first. Because they know he's crazy enough to actually do it. How many people do you know who would go into a vortex and travel back in time without knowing 100% sure they'll return? Maybe he didn't pass the mental health assessment and he really is a human guinea pig.
Maybe he was right all along and it's just one big conspiracy.
For a guy who's been practically pissing himself to go first, I think the reality has caught up to him. We're all waiting in the lobby of the hotel for the ride out to the location while Rick paces back and forth up and down the hall. There's a hint of green to his cheeks. He walks a couple of steps, places his hand on his forehead and shakes his head, and then he turns around and walks the other direction.
"I don't know about this," Rick says as he walks up to me, breaking his pacing spell. "I mean, what if they have the equations wrong and something happens? What if all the molecules in my body are torn apart in the vortex? What if I'm not able to find a vortex on the other side and can't return? There're too many variables. This is all wrong. I'm not some guinea pig to experiment on. I don't think I can go."
He walks away and starts pacing again. He bends forward and looks like he wants to throw up. I'm worried he'll have a heart attack and the whole thing will be called off.
The front door opens and Liam walks in.
Rick starts walking towards the exit and stops. When I catch him, he turns and the look on his face is crazed, like he's already living in another dimension.
"I can't do this, I can't go."
I look over my shoulder. Everyone is ready to leave and we're the last holdouts. Liam makes a move in our direction. Liam's a nice enough guy, but his job isn't to be 'nice'. His job is to make sure things flow smoothly at IYD.
"You have to go; we signed an agreement. You know the rules."
"But what if something happens? You don't know what these guys are capable of. You don't read the same things I do. These guys don't care about us. They care about the Slider. They care about being in power. They don't care who gets them there. They want us to be perfect like little robots. Robot Party members, that's what they're really looking for. There's nothing good natured in what's about to happen."
Rick is all out of sorts. He just needs to snap back into things. He's been looking forward to his turn to travel since we arrived at the school. He only needs to be reminded of this fact.
"You wanted to be the first, right?"
He pauses as if he'd forgotten why he's here and is only just remembering. "Yeah."
"Then you have to go. That's all there is to it." I start walking towards the door. "And don't worry, you'll be back before you even know you're gone."
I start towards the door and Rick follows behind.
Humanity is about to see its first time traveler.
\*\*\*
Dr. Thompson is waiting for us on the bus. On the first seat is the usual stack of goggles to block out the location we're heading to. Next to the blindfolds is a metal box with a lock.
"Good morning," Dr. Thompson says as we board the bus. Rick is dragging far behind. He's moving so slow the bus may need to pick him up.
Dr. Thompson hands each of us our blindfolds as we pass. When we're all seated, he stands up to discuss the trip out to the field. "Everyone should have goggles, right? Good. Put them on and don't take them off until I tell you it's okay. We're going out to a location with a lot of psychic energy, and we want to keep the location a secret."
I place the goggles over my eyes, blocking out the day. I can hear Rick's heavy breathing in the seat behind me. It's labored, like a dog panting on a hot summer day.
Over the sound of the panting I hear the bus engine start. The bus moves forward and I hear the sound of the gate opening. We're on our way.
\*\*\*
I'm not sure how long we travel. I try to count the minutes in my head but I lose track. The road is bumpy and the bus keeps bouncing. No one speaks. There's nothing left to say. I wonder the true reason fifteen people who hadn't graduated from high school had agreed to join a political party that's using them as human guinea pigs.
I feel the motion of the bus slow. The brakes screech and we stop.
"Okay, we're here. Go ahead and take off your blindfolds. It's time to get off."
The bright light shocks my eyes. I look out the window and we're in the middle of the desert. From behind me I hear Rick muttering something about aliens and government officials.
"They're using us, that's all this is, a conspiracy," he murmurs to himself. "It's an experiment. Run while you can. Run!" Once he's off the bus, he starts to pace. He walks right up and whispers in my ear. The words sound like, "Run while you can." Sweat drips from his forehead. He's a man on the edge.
I hope he doesn't ruin it for everyone.
Dr. Thompson realizes if he doesn't send Rick soon, then he'll have a problem. He turns the lock on the metal case he's brought out to the field. He reaches in and pulls out a device wrapped in plastic, ready for its first use. It's the Slider, the instrument we studied in class. He unwraps the Slider and hands it to Rick. For a minute I think Rick might drop it, his hand is shaking so hard. I almost want to go over and help the guy out. But I can't. It's Rick's turn to travel and he has to do it by himself. Interference can ruin the conditions needed to make the travel possible. Dr. Thompson unwraps another Slider for his own use.
It's really happening.
But Rick's in a panic, his skin grey tinged with green, his breathing labored.
The rest of us stay back in the shade of the bus. The only sound is the breeze through the sagebrush and Rick's hitching breaths and pacing steps.
Dr. Thompson looks concerned. Like maybe using Rick as a human guinea pig isn't such a bright idea. Rick is pale as a ghost, soaking in sweat, and he's stopped moving.
It's looking more and more like we have a problem.
Dr. Thompson looks at his Slider. He examines the readout and looks across the desert. He walks to his left and lifts the Slider into the air. From where I stand I see the readout go from red to green. We all know what that means. "Rick, it's time. The field is opening. You need to program the Slider."
He's frozen and he's gripping the Slider so hard that his knuckles are white.
"Rick." Dr. Thompson walks towards him. "Remember the steps from class. You need to activate the Slider into search mode so you can locate a vortex. I'm getting strong readings that you'll be able to go, but you need to get started."
Nothing happens.
"Rick? Are you still with us?"
He looks around, like he's seeing us for the first time. "Um, okay." He activates the Slider. The silence is heavy.
I can't believe this is happening.
Rick walks away from us, towards the desert. From a distance I can see him going through the steps we learned about in class. Then, all of a sudden, I hear a hum. It's a new noise. Something I've never heard before. Like the desert is coming alive all around us.
The lights on Rick's Slider change and the hum grows louder. Casey covers her ears.
"It's working," Dr. Thompson mutters.
Then the air in the desert changes. Blurry little pockets surround Rick. He holds the Slider up and starts turning the dial. Dr. Thompson takes a deep breath.
Rick doesn't move. The Slider starts to vibrate in his hand. The hum threatens to split our ears.
"Run, Rick. It's time to go."
He doesn't move. It's almost like he has crazy glue stuck to the bottom of his shoes. For a brief moment I'm worried he'll back out.
"Go, Rick, go! It's time! Run into the vortex."
He hesitates. And then he starts running. He runs straight into one of the blurry patches of air.
And disappears.
Rick
Eighteen Months Earlier
It feels like a vacuum cleaner pulling you through time. Everything around you is a blur. You feel the pull. It's like all the molecules in your body are being pulled apart. I feel time pulling me. I look at my hand and it's a million different dots. I watch the dots zoom through the air. The world blurs around me as I reach out I can feel time slipping through my fingers. I close my eyes.
And hope this isn't the end.
\*\*\*
The news plays in the background. It's news about the election. That's all that's on TV now: election coverage and the affect of the recession on politics. The country is eager for change -- they just don't know how much change is possible. Dad's home from NASA, watching the news. He logged into his work computer and didn't log off. He didn't know better.
I stand in the doorway, waiting for Dad to turn around to say hi. But he doesn't. I might as well be invisible. That was his other mistake. Not paying attention. Like I was never even there.
"Dad?"
He doesn't look away from the TV. "Yep?"
"Can Ryan Morgan come over?"
"Yep," he says, still without looking.
"Okay, thanks."
I leave the room. Ryan was already coming. Asking was just a courtesy.
\*\*\*
"Dude, this is your dad's computer though. Are you sure we should be doing this?"
Ryan's always such a pussy. He doesn't know I've gone into the future and figured out what I did wrong. That's what I realized. I should have been able to go in undetected. They want me to change my past? Well, I am changing my past. But not in the way they want. Last time I just pulled out random secrets. This time I know what I'm looking for.
I check my thumbnail. Underneath the nail is a speck of dirt. The speck of dirt I hoped would make it through the travel.
I know I shouldn't be doing this. Lisa told me not to. Lisa gave me a list of things I have to change. Everything else is to remain the same. That's what she said: Only change what's on the list. But what Lisa doesn't know is that I can hide my tracks. And now I'm looking for something else. I'm looking for the Party's secrets. Back then I was just hacking in to show off. I needed to prove myself to the Cons. Now I've got something to search for.
"Look, he won't know. I have the code to cover my tracks. No one has to know it was me that logged in."
"Isn't this, like, illegal or something?"
I nod my head. "Of course it's illegal. But I need to do research."
"What?"
I want to tell him everything I know. I want to tell him about the Party. I want to tell him about the future. I want to tell him I've already been here and I'm changing what happened. About the ePrivacy device that fits under my thumbnail that no one knows about.
But I can't.
And, anyway, I don't want to boggle his mind.
"I'm just looking for information."
"Well..." Ryan looks nervously at the door. "Don't tell anyone I was here when you logged in. I don't want any part of this."
"Fine, pussy. But you have nothing to worry about. They won't even know I'm here."
Ryan walks over to the door and locks it. I sit at Dad's desk and rub my thumbnail across the back of the computer. The screen flickers: it worked. I take Dad's password and log into his remote account. His account doesn't have what I'm looking for -- but it's the first step in.
After ten minutes I'm past all the layers of security. Amateur hour. That's what it is: just a bunch of crap any kindergartner with half a brain could figure out. That's the thing about old people and government workers. They think they have all the answers. It doesn't matter I have a face full of zits and no high school degree.
I'm not an amateur. It's why the Party chose me. It's the same reason that they should have given that selection more thought.
Anyway, the one thing different this time from last is that I know what I'm looking for, and I have the ePrivacy to cover my tracks. Lisa would be so pissed if she knew what I was doing. There's no way for her to know, though: she's waiting for me a year and a half in the future.
Ryan is sitting with his back against the door. "What's taking so long?" He yawns and looks at his watch. I know he wants to take the bus down to Red Robin. That's what everyone does on spring break.
"I'm almost there."
I look through the files on the computer. The closer I get to the Party's secrets, the tougher the security.
I can't be online too long. That's other trick. Get in and get out. Cover your tracks. Go undetected.
I'm starting to think it won't work, when I look up and see ...
The personnel files of all the Party members.
"Ah ... this is what I wanted." I scan the notes. Pictures of the future leaders of America. If I'm going to be able to find out the secrets in the desert I need to know what I'm dealing with, who the important people are. I put a memory device the Cons gave me. I can download anything undetected.
It only takes a couple of minutes. Ryan's not paying attention. He's too worried about my dad walking into the room. He's got his ear against the door. I'm surprised he hasn't peed his pants and watered down the floor.
"Okay, let's go." I log off the computer, take out the memory device, and scrape the ePrivacy back under my thumb.
This is what I need to uncover what's going on. I don't trust the Party and they shouldn't trust me.
This time I covered my tracks. This time no one needs to know I logged into Dad's computer.
I came back and got exactly what I needed. I did everything Lisa said -- just not the way she wanted. And now I've got something better.
Blackmail material.
\*\*\*
I appease Ryan with a trip to Red Robin. I have to go, it's on the list. We get to Red Robin and it's the regular crowd. The crowd that always ignores everything we do. I don't know why we even bothered coming. But Ryan has it bad for Kailey Morgan, and he'll go anywhere she is so he can stare at her from afar.
The restaurant is packed with our classmates on a Saturday night. Ryan gives our name to the hostess. I have twenty dollars in my pocket that I lifted out of Dad's wallet. I doubt he'll even notice. He obviously doesn't keep track of his things. His lack of attention to detail is what got me where I am.
We're shown the same crappy table at the back of the restaurant by the swinging doors we always get. It's like it has got our name on it or something.
"Anything to drink?" The waitress barely looks at us when she asks.
"Coke," Ryan answers.
"Same for me."
"Nachos, and we want nachos."
The waitress glares like we've thrown her off. You order food after you've received your drinks. Apparently Ryan didn't get the memo.
She disappears with our order and I look around the restaurant. The noise is deafening, the words impossible to make out. Ryan spots Kailey in the corner. She's laughing with her friends. She swooshes her hair over her shoulder and her teeth sparkle when she smiles. Ryan is wasting his time. I've been to the future and I know Kailey will never give him the time of day.
But he won't stop staring at her.
We sit at our empty table for twenty minutes. No drinks. No food. People around us are served. My stomach growls. The waitress talks to a guy about her age two tables over.
This is what happens when people don't know who you are. They don't care. I should take names. The people in here don't know who they're messing with.
The waitress walks by us for like the fifth time that night. She doesn't even glance our way.
Ryan and I are skinny and I have a face full of zits. But I also have forty dollars in my pocket I swiped from dad's wallet and the same rights as everyone else to be served food.
I wave at her as she walks by. "Hey, where's our food?"
She keeps walking.
"Ma'am?" My voice is louder this time. I want to make sure she hears me.
Ryan gives me a worried look. Things are different this time: I'm not going to be dissed twice. "What are you doing?"
"Getting our food. What else?"
She finally approaches, looking more disinterested than ever. "Yes?"
"We've been waiting for a half hour and we don't even have our drinks."
She looks down at our table like it's just now occurred to her we even exist. And that was the thing then, one of the reasons I hacked Dad's computer. I hated being invisible. I want people to know who I am.
"Oh, I guess I forgot. I'll be right back."
\*\*\*
Five minutes later we have our food and drinks. Ryan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a mini bottle of rum. He dumps half the contents into his drink then passes the bottle under the table so I can dump the other half into mine.
A warm buzz floats over me. I look over my shoulder at Kailey. She doesn't even know we exist. I can change that though. Back then I felt invisible. Like I really had to do something to get attention. Now I know better.
Ryan won't stop looking over to where Kailey is sitting. No one stops by to say hello to us. We're sitting on a deserted island in a restaurant.
It's not on the list, but I want to do this for Ryan. It'll save him from the years of rejection I know are coming. Even if Lisa has a total cow, I'm sure a minor change isn't going to set time on a path to destruction.
"Dude, just go talk to her."
Ryan comes out of a daze. Like he's hearing me for the first time. "Huh?"
"Go talk to her, don't just sit there staring. You look like an ape."
"Don't say that! That's awful!"
"Well."
"I ..." He looks back toward Kailey. "I ... can't."
"Why not?"
"Because she doesn't know I exist. And she'll tell me to get lost."
"Then why are we here?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess it is kind of pathetic, sitting in the back of the restaurant where no one even stops to talk to us."
Last time we just sat here. Sipping rum and Cokes and watching the world happen all around us.
This time is different.
I stand up.
Ryan panics. Like the sight of me doing anything but sinking into invisibility will send him into a fit of hysteria.
"What are you doing?" His voice is high, piercing. Screeching, even. "Sit down!"
But I know it doesn't matter. High school never gets better for us. What I do know is it won't make a difference at all.
I walk over to Kailey's table.
"Hey."
It takes a minute. They're deep in conversation. Kailey's friend looks my direction and dismisses me.
"Hey, Kailey."
She stops talking and looks at me. Her eyes narrow. Her friend crosses her arms over her chest and glares. I'm not welcome here. They look at me like a bug has flown to their table and they forgot the repellant.
"Can we buy you something to drink?" I nod my head back at Ryan who wants to crawl under the table. He looks like he might die. I hope they have a defibrillator in the restaurant.
"Um ..." she looks at her friends. One shakes her head and stifles a laugh.
"What's your friend's name?" She motions back to our table.
"Ryan."
"He's in my Chemistry class," she says to her friend. "I need help with Chemistry. Isn't he some kind of genius or something?"
I shrug. "He's pretty smart."
"Well," she says, and her voice wavers. Her friends giggle and shake their heads. She ignores them though, which is a total surprise. "Do you want to come sit with us?"
I can't believe it. I was expecting to be rebuffed. Sent away. I had a list of smart retorts.
"Sure."
I wave Ryan over. He shakes his head like I'm pulling something on him. That's the way things were for us. But not now. I've changed things. Lisa thought the world would end, but instead it made our existence just a little bit better.
Now I just hope I can get back and I didn't change too much.
I'm a potential Party member. I'll rule the country. I'm a different person.
\*\*\*
The List says 11:00 AM at the corner of Thornton Drive and 87th Ave. I have the ePrivacy device embedded under my thumbnail and the data I saved taped into the cuff of my pants. My research tells me it will make it through the vortex.
It's the only way I'll be safe.
Dad's at the table reading the paper. He says, "Good morning, Rick," but he doesn't look up.
"Hi, Dad." There's so much I want to say to him. But I don't have time to talk. I need to make an escape.
"Going out for the morning?"
"Yep."
"I'll see you when you get back then."
"Sure, Dad, sure."
\*\*\*
I run down the street. It's 10:58. It's taking longer than I thought. I take deep breaths and focus. I need to make the slide. If I miss the slide the next one is in eighteen hours and then too much will change. If too much changes I won't be able to go back.
I run faster. The air burns my lungs. My legs shake. I'm not an athlete. One look at me and anyone could tell I'm not a marathon runner.
My watch beeps. It's 11:00. I pull the Slider out of my pocket and turn the dial. The air blurs on the corner of Thornton Drive and 87th Ave. The Slider's readout turns green. I run faster. I'm sprinting. The waves in the air begin to fade. I'm running out of time.
I pump my arms and jump into the waves.
The world blurs around me. The vortex sucks me through time. My arm is ten feet long, my hand waves in the distance and I'm worried it's pulling away from my body.
I travel to the present.
\*\*\*
"Welcome back, Rick." It's Dr. Thompson. He's standing in the middle of the desert, surrounded by my classmates. "Congratulations. You are the first. Follow me. We have a lot to discuss."
The world is a haze. It's almost like the vortexes are all around us. It's the Slider that allows me to see them. I'm the first person that really knows. I follow Dr. Thompson to the bus.
The cool air is a welcome relief.
We put on our blindfolds and head back to the hotel.
And when I'm sure no one is looking I examine the cuff of my pants.
It made it through.
Matt
I can't believe Rick entered the vortex. He was there and then he was gone.
Poof.
Just like that.
I can't believe it worked. He came back in one piece. But there's something different about him. He hasn't admitted it, but I can tell. Something's changed.
It's almost my turn. I'll follow Rick's footsteps. The only difference is I won't be coming back.
Everyone's gone off to bed. No surprise everyone's tired: stress and the heat of the day do that. The desert is quiet and dark. I look out the window at the casino lights glittering in the distance. I imagine vacationers drinking cocktails and placing money on the table for one more chance at luck. The lights are filled with dreams and wishes, hopes for a change. The Strip is a place for misplaced optimism. The people in this town have no idea what happens on the upper level floors of Winn Hotel.
My stomach is in knots and adrenalin pumps through my veins. I take deep breaths and try to count sheep. I need to try to sleep, but nothing happens.
I give up on trying to sleep and head to the common area.
Farrah's sitting on a couch, covered with a blanket, her eyes on the TV. Always on the TV. She does this every night. I can tell Farrah's trying hard to hold onto her past. It's an unhealthy obsession.
Like I have room to talk.
"Hey." I walk into the room and sit on the couch across from Farrah. In the dim light from the TV I see her face redden. Farrah doesn't need to be embarrassed around me for watching her mother over and over.
She picks up the remote control and stops the DVD. The evening news comes on.
"You don't have to do that."
She shrugs her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm done watching it. My dad's always saying I shouldn't watch it all the time. He acts like I have some kind of problem. He thinks I should just move on."
"I don't think there's anything wrong with watching your mom's movies. She was a great actress. If you're going to watch something, you might as well watch your mom, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
The news plays in the background. A body was found shot behind a casino on the Strip. A blond newscaster with burned skin who looks like she spent the day baking in the Nevada sun interviews the person who found the body. It's a security guard for the Party. The interviewee looks excited. Like the fact that he found a body will make him famous.
Like death is something to strive for.
"You can turn the movie back on; it's better than the news."
She picks up the remote, presses play, and her mother is back with us.
Farrah's watching Taxi Driver. It's my favorite movie of her mother's. Her mom reminds me of a discount version of Farrah Fawcet. Maybe being too much like someone else is what hurt her career.
Farrah smiles when her mom walks into the room. The smile tells me the real reason she decided to spend the summer at IYD. But I want to hear her say it.
"So has Lisa given you instructions on what to do when you go back?" I'm not sure if I should ask. But I feel like I can trust Farrah. And I hope she knows she can trust me.
Farrah jumps, like she forgot I'm still in the room. "Yeah," she says. Her voice is sheepish. Like she's afraid to share the date.
"When are you going back?"
"The week Mom died."
I nod my head without saying anything. I don't want to freak her out or scare her away. Farrah's like a porcelain doll; if you drop her, she'll break.
She turns away from the TV screen for the first time and examines me from across the darkened room. She's really seeing me for once. Not looking off in the distance, searching for what's no longer still there.
"You?"
It surprises me she'd ask. "That night, you know, the night of the accident. Lisa only wants me there for the evening. She figures once the accident doesn't take place then I'm golden."
She nods her head. Like she knew all along but was just asking for the sake of politeness, if there is such a thing in this world anymore.
"How do you feel about reliving all that again?"
It's an honest question. Why would a guy want to relive the worst day of his life? But she doesn't know that I'm always reliving it, that I have an inescapable reel playing the images on the back of my eyelids, forcing me to look at the blood covering the interior of my car. The smell of brakes and vomit burns my nose. The screeching of the brakes and the screams rattle in my ears. The silence that follows.
I can barely stand it.
It's all there and I can't escape. I don't have a choice.
That night ended my life.
Fate stole the wrong person.
And I can't tell her I'm not planning on coming back. If I admit that they won't let me go. I'm here to be a member of the Party. Nothing more.
And I have to go.
I shrug. "The Party won't allow me to become a member unless I go back and fix that night. And I want to fix that night. I'd do anything to fix what happened."
She gives me a look like she's trying to read what's going on inside my head, that by looking at me that way, she'll know if I'm hiding anything.
"You know you can't do anything more than what they tell us we can do? Right?"
I smile, like it's the most ridiculous question I've ever heard and it's not something I'd ever consider. "Of course. It's in the training material." Then I change the subject. "How about you? How do you feel about going back?"
She looks at the ground. Her mother laughs from the TV. Her voice tickles the air. Farrah looks at the TV and then over to me.
"You know, other than what I see there on the TV, I can't remember that much about her. To me, she's Lynette the actress, the faded star. Sure, I look at pictures of us together and I have some of her old clothes. I can watch her in the movies as much as I want. But when I try to picture her outside what I see on the TV, it's all just fading away. Like if it weren't for these DVDs, I'd hardly remember she existed." Farrah pulls her arms tight around herself, like she's giving herself a hug to push away the thoughts floating around in her mind. "I can't believe these movies are all I remember of her. Maybe it's because I was so young when she died. But what do people do after someone passes on? How to they hold onto the memories? I didn't know Mom was going to die. I think I would have etched the memories of her in my mind deeper if I had known they were going to be my last."
I nod my head. I know exactly what Farrah is saying. How time makes things disappear. How the memories fade as your brain opens up space to store new ones. How sometimes you want to hold onto those moments, the moments you think about everyday, but then they disappear, gone like a light turned off at night.
I understand why Farrah wants to hold on.
I want to ask Farrah something, but I'm afraid it will open up too many bad memories. Maybe her mind has closed the door to those last days and thrown away the key.
But I have to ask. "How close to the day your mom ended her life are you going back?"
She hesitates. Her hands wring together while she considers. Then, finally: "I'm going back the week she died. They're making me come back the day she died. Only she won't be dead. That will be the big difference."
Now it's my turn to ask. "What do you think it will be like?"
"I don't know... That week was such a bad period for Mom. I want to go back and spend our last week together again. I want to make her change her mind. I want to remember what she smelled like and our conversations. I want to hug her again. But I feel like, if she's somewhere on the time continuum, wanting to kill herself again, and this time I can stop her, I have to. I don't have a choice."
I nod my head. I know exactly what she means. To want to be there for someone at the end.
And to not have a choice.
"Do you think you'll be able to do it?"
One solitary tear trickles down from the corner of Farrah's eye. "I'm not sure. I spoke to Lisa and went over the timeline. They think I'll be able to make a change. Me? I'm not so sure." She pauses, like she's drifted off to another dimension. "Of course I want to help my mom. But I'm worried it won't make a difference. My mom had been struggling with the reality of her life for years. If I help her one day, it doesn't mean the next day will be any different. What if I can save her only to have her swallow a handful of pills later? That's what Dr. Thompson said too; that a lot of times there's no stopping the trajectory. If an event doesn't happen on one day, it will happen another. But I have to do my best. It's my only chance."
I pause. Can I trust her? "I have to do something for Violet. I can't let things end the way they did. I have to go back. I'd risk anything to change that night. Anything."
It's out there. The truth. It sucks the air out of the room.
The credits to Taxi Driver start rolling and the movie's theme song floats in the room. We both have it out in the open. The hidden reason we're at IYD.
We both have business to take care of from our past. Only one person will return from their mission and the other one won't.
Farrah--Kate
After Matt's gone to bed I can't sleep, so I head out to the pool to clear my head. I need to think. To take in everything we've learned and to reflect my past. The desert is quiet and the sky is clear. Diamonds glitter down at me. I lie on my back, watching the dots of light twinkle.
Marvin says the dots represent moments in time. The light is, in some cases, from a million years ago. Maybe even a billion years ago. The universe is swirling across the time continuum.
Somewhere in time Mom is still alive. There are a million moments going on all around us.
My eyes examine each star, searching for Mom, wondering, wishing things were different ... According to Marvin and his theories, she's out there somewhere, and his machine is going to help me find her.
I wonder if she's like I remember her or if my memory is flawed, if her voice is like the woman in the films I watch on TV.
I can hear everyone inside. Tomorrow Matt's leaving. I can't believe it's already time for him to go. I hope he doesn't do anything foolish. He has to come back.
I can't believe a person like him passed the assessment test. But Matt's a good actor. Anyone would think he was the child of an actress, not me.
And Rick passed the psychological assessment.
Maybe the test isn't as stringent as it should be.
I think back to the night out at the lake, Matt and I sitting together, his warm embrace, the kiss on my forehead. I wonder how he kissed Violet.
I sit up and look around. I try to picture the vortexes that Marvin Winn told me about that exist all around us. The pin prick sized vortexes are too small to enter. But they're everywhere. I look at the air, searching for the waves Dr. Thompson lectured us on in class. The waves that Rick ran through. I reach out, trying to find the small little holes that could transport me someplace else.
I wonder about missing people. People who were walking down a road and disappeared into thin air. Maybe they walked into a vortex. Maybe they were swept away to another dimension, never to be seen again.
Butterflies try to escape my stomach. I can't believe tomorrow is the day for Matt to travel to the past. There's so much I want to talk to him about before he goes. I want to tell him about my feelings. I want to try to convince him to try not to go off track in the past because I want him to come back.
It's not worth it anyway. We're not supposed to change anything that's not on our lists. Lisa made that clear to us.
But it's not my choice. Matt is the one leaving tomorrow and he's the only one who can decide his future -- the trajectory of his life -- and I don't want to interfere with the time continuum.
I have to believe he'll come back. It's the only way I'll be able to make it out to the field tomorrow without breaking down.
And, anyway, he has to come back. Joining the Party is the only way out.
\*\*\*
The heat from the day eases as it gets deeper into the night. When the air and my body temperature reach equilibrium I know it's late. I open the door and walk into the hotel. A security guard smiles at me as I pass. I nod my head at him and he nods back.
I pause outside Matt's door. I stand still, listening for a noise, but I hear nothing. It's so late even Matt has gone to sleep.
In my room I turn on the TV. The Party monitors the channels and at this time of night the only thing on is Party-sponsored news. A blonde with bobbed hair and bright red lipstick talks about a missing child. It's a girl with blonde hair and a nose covered in freckles. She was wearing a red shorts and a Hello Kitty t-shirt. Her tearful mom cries in front of the camera.
I turn off the TV and the room goes dark save for the glow from my digital alarm clock. It's 2:25 AM. The earth is spinning towards morning. I close my eyes and dream of vortexes and trainees who disappear in the air.
Matt
I spend the night in bed, staring at the ceiling. Air rushes in, inflates my lungs, and expels out. The air conditioning runs all night. The Freon filled air rushes from the vents and blows across my bed. I have no idea why the Party chose the desert to set up their headquarters. If you spend too long outside, you'll cook.
I think back to that night as I remember it. I hate the way it ends. If I'd had more to drink that night, I might've been able to forget the ending. Violet's head rolling around on the floor, her body still strapped in the passenger seat, screams from the backseat, a body in the trees. The smell of vomit and shit.
Why was I the only one who came out A-Okay?
It's like some weird twist of fate that the person who caused the tragedy is the one person who came out fine. Barely even a scratch to show for it.
I torture myself with these visions. I have to remember. It's my punishment.
I roll to my side. The digital read out on the alarm says it's 4:22 AM. That night I sat in a police station covered in blood, waiting to be interviewed about the accident. Now I'm lying in bed in anticipation of that night, waiting to go back.
The plan is to go back and make a change and to end the night differently.
I should never have told Farrah about my plan. But Farrah is the one person who would understand.
But what if she tells someone and they bring me back before I can make a change? I can't have anyone interfere with that night. Violet didn't deserve what happened to her. It should be me lying six feet under the ground. I'm the one who doesn't deserve to be here.
The digital read out on the clock clicks over to 4:23 AM and I roll on my back and wait.
\*\*\*
I'm the first person in the lobby. The security shift is changing. The night shift is going home, looking like zombies as they trudge out, and the day shift is arriving. The day shift doesn't look much better; it's like working for the Party sucks the life out of you.
The directions say no food or water the morning of the travel. I sit on the couch, tapping my foot against the floor. The sound bounces off the walls and echoes in the empty room. I'm too nervous to sit, so I get up and pace. Pace up to the wall and back. I pace to the window. The sun is creeping up over the hills, filtering between the spaces in the casinos, lighting up the Las Vegas valley.
It's almost time.
\*\*\*
Farrah is the first person down the stairs. I hoped she'd be the last. If she were last then we wouldn't have to talk. Her eyes are puffy and she looks like she was up all night. I don't want to talk, so I avert my eyes to the ground. She's on to me though.
"Nervous?" she asks as she walks over.
I examine her: blond hair falls in waves past her shoulders, a dust of freckles sprinkle her nose. She's so skinny she's like a stick figure. She's nothing like Violet. They're like polar opposites.
"No, I know what I'm doing."
She pauses. "You have to follow Lisa's list, you know that, right?"
In the early morning light she looks like an angel. The sun filters through the window, making a halo around her head. Farrah is everything I'd ever ask for in a girl, everything but the girl who was, the girl I have to go back and save.
"Yes, I know that."
The sound of footsteps echoing down the stairs turn our attention to the foyer. It's Rick making his way down. He's never on time. There's a worried look on his face that he erases as soon as he notices me watching.
"Big day, man, huh?" He bumps my fist. "You ready to do this thing?"
I nod. "I was born ready."
"It's awesome! It's unbelievable. You won't be the first person in the history books to travel back in time but you'll be the second. The second successful one, as long as you don't screw anything up."
"Second is good enough for me -- and I won't screw anything up."
More footsteps and we're ready to go.
\*\*\*
The Party's bus is already waiting for us in front of the hotel when we get outside. Liam gets out of the driver's seat and swings open the door, letting us in. I wait while everyone else gets on first. Farrah stops and looks over her shoulder and our eyes meet before she steps onto the bus. I look up at the casino one last time.
A small group of Party opposition members have gathered outside the hotel. They're growing in size. I hear their chanting all around us. They watch us load onto the bus. I feel hatred in the way they look at us.
A familiar looking woman stands along the fence. In front of her stands a little boy. I remember her from the day I ran outside. The last time I went off campus.
It's Angela.
She's wearing the same shirt with a picture of a smiling man on the front.
"You said you would help us," she hisses at me. "Things are getting worse, not better. They're trying to control us. You have to make them stop."
Everyone is already on the bus, except for Liam who is still talking to a security guard in front of the hotel. I walk over to where she's standing. I might as well; it's not like I'll have to face my punishment when I get back.
"Who said I'm not?"
She moves back. Her face is skeptical. "You're one of them ..."
I look back at the bus and then to the hotel. Liam notices me by the fence. It's time to go.
"I'll do what I can ..." The face on Angela's shirt stares at me. Daring me to change his outcome. Liam looks at me again and heads my direction. "I need to go."
I walk away from the group and step on the bus.
\*\*\*
I expected the bus to buzz with excitement on our way out to the vortex. But instead it's silent. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts and nervous energy.
We drive towards the mountains in the distance. After maybe fifteen minutes of travel, Dr. Thompson stands up and starts walking towards us.
"We're getting close. Time to get on the goggles; we don't want to give anything away."
He starts handing them out. I slide them over my head and secure them in place. Once the outside world is blocked out a light on the side blinks and a small red dot fills my peripheral vision.
We're getting close. Dr. Thompson wouldn't have us cover our eyes if we weren't.
\*\*\*
Even though all I see is black and red, I can hear the hum of the engine as the bus moves quietly down the road. We hit an occasional bump and my body leans to the right when the van makes a turn. We're not on paved road anymore. The bus keeps moving. Then I feel the motion slowing, and I move forward on the seat before sliding back and I know we've stopped.
"Students, please release your glasses."
I reach to the side of the glasses and push the button. The grip from the suction slowly releases and light eases around the edges. I lift the glasses off my face and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. Once I'm able to see, I look out the window. We're in the middle of the desert and there's not a building in sight.
I spot Farrah in the front of the bus. She has her glasses off and she's looking out the window -- like she might see something if her eyes search hard enough. I know Farrah wants to go, but at the same time she doesn't. I wonder what it's like to be so unsure.
All I know is that I'm ready to go to the other side. I have a date with my past.
I get up and make my way to the aisle. Rick gets up and stands in front of me. He shouldn't be in a hurry; he's just observing today. I don't know why he's trying to block my exit.
"Hey, man, you got glue in your shoes or something?"
He looks over his shoulder at me. "No."
"Then pick it up."
Rick takes a couple of steps and we exit the bus.
\*\*\*
It's the hottest day so far this year. I step off the bus and the air burns my skin. The ground is hard and dusty. Everything is quiet. Tumbleweeds blow by in the wind. It's like a scene from one of those old movies Dad used to watch when I was a kid. I can't believe this is where my life has taken me. These are my last moments here in the present and I'm spending them in the middle of nowhere in one of the hottest places on earth.
Dr. Thompson walks around the field with his Slider, looking at the readings. The sun scorches my eyes and salty sweat makes them burn. I just want to get out of here. It's cooler on the other side. That much I remember.
"The vortexes are weak today." Dr. Thompson walks to the bus and returns with my very own Slider.
I take the device in my hand. It's lighter than I expected. It weighs nothing.
"Go ahead and turn it on. It's almost time. You're scheduled to leave in five minutes."
I look around. The glare from the sun makes my classmates disappear in the glow. Their bodies shimmer in the distance. They're standing in the shade of the bus in silence. They look almost like a mirage.
For the briefest moment I have my doubts.
I think of my mom. She's so close to the edge -- because of all the pain I've caused her. She didn't want me to join the Party.
I think of my friends who are still here.
My little brother who thinks I'm a superhero with a football.
My chance to be a member of the Party and to change my family's lives ... it's the only chance for a future. Joining the Party could change everything for them. I'm sure my descent will cause them problems. But I'll be a year away. What are they going to do? Come looking for me? Winn Theory doesn't work that way. They can't go back to a place they've never been.
It's like a flash.
But it's not enough.
Not enough to stay.
"The vortexes are getting stronger."
I look up and Dr. Thompson is standing in front of me.
I shake my head. It was almost as if I was already gone.
Dr. Thompson points to his right out to the field as he studies his Slider. "The strongest vortex is ninety degrees to your right. Turn the dial to locate on the Slider and in thirty seconds you'll need to pick up enough speed to penetrate the vortex. Are you ready?"
"Yes, I'm ready."
"Good. We're looking forward to getting you back in the present with a clean past. Don't delineate outside the list. Just do what Lisa told you. It's simple."
Dr. Thompson steps away, and I'm alone. I hear the clock ticking in my brain, the one that is pushing me towards my fate.
"Ten seconds, Matt."
I take a deep breath.
"Five seconds."
Another deep breath.
"Four ... three ... two ... one ..."
The present spins around me. My classmates wave like flags in the distance. Farrah gives me a weak wave. I want to run and hug her but it's too late.
"Go!"
I switch the Slider mode to locate and it vibrates in my hand. An arrow points ninety degrees to my right just like Dr. Thompson said. I start running in the direction of the arrow.
The air in front of me begins to ripple. I run towards the waves and see a tunnel. I run faster just like Dr. Thompson said.
And enter a vacuum.
\*\*\*
The vortex is like a suction tube that pulls you away. I'm in a tunnel that's sweeping me to a different place in time. A million people swish by. Babies are born. Seniors die. Teens graduate high school ...
The Party starts gripping its claws into society.
Everything changes.
I hear voices, but they're all a blur.
I feel time pulling me. I'm getting younger. I can feel the horrible effects of the last year falling away.
The blur continues to stream by.
I'm almost there.
Matt
Fourteen Months Earlier
And there I am -- back on that day -- just as Dr. Thompson said.
It worked.
\*\*\*
The party is off the hook. Just like I remember it. For a minute I forget why I'm even here. Josh walks in and heads straight for the keg. Hannah and Violet are laughing by the table. Violet is wearing that purple sweater.
I feel sick to my stomach.
"Matt!" Violet places the red cup on the table and rushes towards me with her arms extended.
"Hey, Vee." I give her a tight hug. She smells like the cosmetic department at Nordstrom -- the kind of smell that almost chokes you if you breathe in too deeply. Her hair brushes against my face. Her skin is warm. She's wearing fuchsia sticky lip-gloss. The kind you buy at the MAC counter with loud music playing in the background. I hated going there with her. That was before I realized I'd never go there again. That's the thing about life: you don't always appreciate the little things until they're gone.
She kisses me on the cheek. This time I don't wipe it off.
Things are already different.
"Oh my God, I thought you weren't coming. What took you so long? I thought you were going to be here an hour ago!"
I run my hand down her back. She's so thin, like a stick figure, like one of those little magnets Mom has on the refrigerator to hold up her to-do list.
Violet takes my hand and pulls me over to the table where everyone is sitting, playing quarters. Empty beer cans are strewn across the room. The table is covered in red cups. I take an empty chair. The cushion on the chair is cut and cotton is coming out the sides. Everything looks exactly the way I remember it.
The reel that plays in my mind night after night has already started.
"Matt, my main man, nice of you to show up, dude. We've been waiting on you. It's your turn, by the way." Josh tosses me a quarter. I go to bounce it off the table. At the last minute I move my hand to the right and miss. The quarter lands in the center of the table. Josh laughs. "Pussy. You can do better than that. Try again." He picks the quarter back up and tosses back to me. This time I'm too far to the left. So he retrieves the quarter again and tosses it to Violet. "We're never going to get our buzz on that way."
Violet is a pro at quarters, especially for a girl. One shot and the quarter's in the cup. She pushes the cup towards me. "Drink up, buttercup." She smiles and her eyes sparkle. It's hard to think what's going to happen later.
I want to forget. I'd rather just enjoy these last moments with her, lost in her blue eyes and her dark hair. So I take the cup and drink. The hops are smooth, like the beer sat in the cup all night. The outside of the cup is wet. I wipe my hand on my pants. I down the beer and place it in the middle of the table.
Around the table we go in turns. Josh picks me and I push the beer at Colton. Colton's not driving. Colton's the person the cops interviewed back at the house. I feel fuzzy, but it's not from alcohol. The feeling brings me back to the last night I felt this way. I shake off the feeling. It's a night I've been trying to forget for so long that I question why I decided to come back.
What if I can't change anything? What if everything stays exactly the same?
The first time at the party, I played at the table all night. This night is different. I get up and sit on the couch. Mason and Todd are watching college baseball. I join them in the revelry of a match up between USC and UCLA.
"Ah ... he leaves the table to join the underlings." Mason nods at me from across the couch.
"Hey, guys ..."
Todd looks at me out of the corner of his eye with his brow furrowed and then back to the TV. "What brings you over here?"
"The game."
"I've never known you to give up drinking to watch the game."
"I don't drink that much ..."
Todd gives me a look. Is that how everyone sees me? Big guy on campus who likes to drink? That guy isn't the person I want to be.
And this is my chance to make a change.
I hear Violet giggle in the background. I look over my shoulder to see the quarter flying above the table, before falling in Josh's cup. Josh picks up the cup to drink. I'm surprised that he doesn't swallow the quarter.
The short stop from UCLA sends the ball flying over the fence and the crowd on the TV breaks out in cheers. More giggles in the background. I feel my eyes grow heavy. The room stinks like hops and beer farts. I stand up. I need some fresh air.
\*\*\*
Violet is still at the table when I open the door to walk outside. Josh's parents have a pool they never use. The pool is mostly just to show off so they can have parties outside and invite all their rich friends. But it's really only used by Josh's friends when his parents are out of town. Like right now. Turns out Josh's dad did all the pool work for nothing.
I lie down on an empty lounge chair. It's a clear night and the stars twinkle just as they always have. They look exactly the same then as they do now -- in the future. It's like nothing bad ever happened.
On that day Violet was still alive and the US was still a multi-party nation. It's amazing how fast everything can change.
It's seems almost impossible.
I hear the sound of laughter ring inside. I remember it as the last time I saw the world as a happy and safe place. The last time I saw a future with Violet and I together. The last time I could be around the smell of beer without vomiting.
"Matt?"
The glass door slides open and Violet walks out. She runs her fingers through her black hair and gives me a tipsy smile. I scoot over to make room for her to lie down.
"Do you need a jacket?"
"No, I'm not cold." She snuggles next to me, resting her head on my shoulder, and her hair spills over the side of the chair. I reach up my hand and begin to run my fingers through the strands. "Why are you out here by yourself?"
"I needed fresh air."
"Oh."
Loud screams come from inside. Followed by, "Drink, drink, drink ..." I look over my shoulder and see Josh holding up the hose to the beer bong with a circle of people standing around him. He finishes and throws the hose to the ground and the room breaks out in applause.
Everything will be fine. Just as long as nobody drives.
I'll make sure of it.
I look down at Violet and see her eyes are drifting closed, like she's falling asleep. "Maybe we should get out of here," I offer.
Her eyes widen. "No, I can't leave without Hannah. I promised her I'd stay. She and Brian are fighting and she's trying to make amends. Not that I think she'll have much luck. But I promised her I'd stay so she could at least give it a try."
"Hannah will be okay on her own."
Violet leans up on her elbow and smiles at me. "No she won't. I promised her I'd stay. Plus, there's no rush. Let's stay and have fun." Then she leans down and kisses me. Her lips are warm against mine. I rest my hand on the curve of her back, glad for this second chance.
Matt
Later that night we sit around the bonfire. Josh picks up another can of beer. He punches a hole in the side and holds it over his mouth. I don't understand why he let me drive. We were all too wasted to go out that night.
This time is different. I'm not chugging beers and I have my eyes on everyone around me.
According to Lisa I need to change just enough to get a different outcome. That should be easy: Winn Theory says it doesn't take much to change the trajectory of time. I can only change what's on the list: she gave me firm orders.
"Hey, man." I join Josh on opposite side of the bonfire. "What's going on over here?"
Last time I didn't say a word.
He crunches the can in his hand. It folds into a wrinkled up piece of aluminum. He tosses the crushed can on the ground and it glows, reflecting the light from the fire.
"Drinking up."
I look around the bonfire at the glowing faces. Everyone's talking but it sounds all blurred together. It sounds more like a noise than individual words. Violet is on the other side of the fire. She is everything I remember. I know I won't be able to let her go.
"Maybe you should drink some water." I stand up. "I'll go over and get you a bottle."
"What are you man? A pussy? Since when did you start caring about what I drink?"
"I just don't want things getting out of hand."
"Why do you say that? I'm not driving."
"I just think we shouldn't over do it tonight."
He grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to him. His smile is all loopy. Nobody is going home for awhile. "Nobody is driving. We're all spending the night."
That's how it is at every party. Nobody will drive, everybody will spend the night, leave your keys at the door. But then someone gets the idea that they need to go home. Someone's mom calls on their cell phone and threatens a multi-month grounding, or a couple gets in a fight and she storms out of the room. It never ends the way it's supposed to.
"You're right, everybody should spend the night. Everyone's so blasted. No one should drive home."
Josh nods his head. Good, everybody agrees. Maybe I don't have anything to worry about after all.
\*\*\*
Since no one is driving, I return to the lounge chair, listening to the buzz of a good time happen around me. Violet has wandered back into the house to hang out with Hannah, who's having some sort of boyfriend crisis. That's Violet; always looking out for her friends. The sound of laughter grows quieter inside.
Tom walks outside and spots me on the chair and waves me into the house.
I get up and walk over. "What's up?"
"You have to come in and see the highlight reel from last football season. Ryan has it up on Josh's computer. Remember that run you did in the last ten seconds of the game against Jefferson? You should see it on tape. Dude, you look fast!"
"Okay, sure." I follow Tom into the house. Violet is still talking to Hannah. I give her a little wave. She smiles and waves back. Everyone is safe inside. Just the way they should be.
\*\*\*
Ryan has Josh's computer on with highlights from last season. He's has picked most of his own plays. He's watching himself with intensity. When he hears us enter the room, he jumps.
"Hey, pussy," Tom laughs. "Why don't you stop jerking off while you watch yourself and show Matt the recording of the play he made against Jefferson last year."
Ryan scrunches his face without saying a word. He pulls up the video of the tape.
I hate watching myself. I'm not like Ryan. I like to play and be done with the game. The game is fun. The game is an adrenalin rush. Watching the highlights I could do without.
Ryan starts playing the video. I pretend like I'm interested. I take a few steps back and look out the office door to look for Violet. The noise from the kitchen has died down. I'm getting ready to walk out to check on her when Kyle walks in with a phone in his hand.
"Hey, Josh is on the phone. They went on a pizza run and want to know if you want them to bring anything back."
Electricity shoots through my body. My stomach fills with acid. "Who went on a pizza run?"
He gives me a strange look. "Josh, Violet, Hannah, Brian. Brian and Hannah were fighting and Josh thought everybody just needed something to eat. The refrigerator is barren. Everyone's hungry."
I jump off the chair. "They drove?"
He looks uncomfortable. Like maybe he shouldn't have come out to check on me. "Yeah, how else would they get there? They don't deliver out here this time of night."
"Shit! Josh promised me no one was driving anywhere! How could anyone allow him to drive?"
"It's just pizza, Matt. You don't have to freak out over it."
I jump up and start towards the door. I can't believe Josh got in the car and drove. The whole reason I'm spending the summer at IYD and changing my past is to stop anyone from driving drunk. Him getting in a car and driving Violet on a pizza run defeats everything.
And I can't believe he would be so stupid to get in the car to drive. Dr. Thompson warned us about this. Sometimes you really can't change your past. Some endings are just meant to be.
It's the Butterfly Effect. I've changed my past -- but I haven't really changed anything.
But I refuse to believe I can't save Violet.
I have to.
I look at Kyle. "You've got my keys, right?"
He hesitates. Like he's looking at a lunatic or something. I have to admit; I'm feeling like I've stepped too close to the edge. He reaches in his pocket, but he's taking his own sweet time.
"I need my keys, now."
"Fine, okay ... But, you said to hold onto them all night. They're probably almost at the pizza place anyway. I don't know what you think you're going to do."
"I'm going to find them."
Kyle drops the keys in my outreached hand, shaking his head. "I think you're totally overreacting. They'll be back in like thirty minutes."
I take off running for the door. "I'm not overreacting. Trust me. No one should've allowed Josh to drive."
\*\*\*
Voices call after me as I run to my car. I don't hear them: they're just a blur of sound. It was my idea to leave the keys with Kyle. Everyone was supposed to leave the keys with Kyle. I pull open the door and jump in the driver's seat. Everything is different this time and everything is the same. Violet died at 10:19 PM on impact. It's 10:07.
Everything is unlike the last time.
It has to be.
It's the only reason I'd step foot in Las Vegas where the Party has set up their headquarters.
It's the only reason I'd go back to the worst night in my life.
I pull out of Josh's drive and press the gas to the floor. The road into town is quiet this time of night. It's always quiet this time of night out here.
I maneuver my car down the road as fast as it will go. Ahead of me, the road curves and twists I keep my eyes glued to the yellow and white lines. It's dark and the rain gets heavier. I feel the car hydroplane on the road. The back wheels slide to the right. I feel the car turn. I try to remember what I learned about losing control of a car in driver's ed.
Turn into the spin?
Turn out?
I want to close my eyes and let the car spin out of control. But I can't. It's 10:11 and I need to find Violet before it's too late.
The car starts to cross the centerline and two glowing headlights appear in the distance. Through the rain it's hard to tell how far away the lights are. Mr. Lehman's voice sings in my ears.
If you lose control of your car, turn into the spin; it's the only way to regain control.
I turn the wheel to the left and the fishtailing from the back eases. The car gains traction on the road and picks up speed. I grip the wheel tight and the car gets back in its lane. The car coming at me honks its horn as it races by. I refocus on driving. I need to get to Violet before fate catches her first.
\*\*\*
The lights from town glow in the distance. I haven't come upon Josh's car during the drive. Seconds fritter away, turning into minutes. It's almost time. I'm coming close to the bend in the road and that night flashes before my eyes.
Violet's hand on my knee.
Josh in the backseat with Hannah and Brian. Me behind the wheel, eyes focused on the road and everything a blur. The smell from Brian's cigarette burning my nose. Smells Like Teen Spirit from the oldies channel playing on the radio, the lyrics burning in my brain.
Everyone screams 'how low'. Everyone loves that part.
Violet knocks the beer out of my hand and I reach down to pick it up.
I accidentally yank the wheel and the car makes a sharp turn to the right.
I look up and the car's flying off the road, towards a steep embankment.
I slam on the brakes and the music is drowned out by screaming. Violet screaming.
Then comes a horrible metal sound. The sound of metal crunching, the tires squealing on the asphalt. The smell of brake dust burns my nose. A tree cut right through the center of the car, both the engine and lights cutting out. A soft whimper from the back and silence from my right.
Quiet.
Nothing but the sound of wheels spinning and the hissing sound of steam coming from the front of the car.
The weird thing about the whole accident ... the driver's seat was unscathed. That's the thing about life; bad things happen to some people and miss others. It was like I had a force field around me. Like some greater force wanted me to live so I could see what I had done. Like the universe wanted to torture me with that night for the rest of my life. Not that I deserved any protection. I'm the last guy that deserved any special treatment.
I turn to my right and I know it's bad. The tree had shorn straight through the car to the backseat. There's something on the floor close to my leg. It was like a bowling ball in a puddle of neatly styled hair.
It took me a moment to process what I was looking at.
A beer can rolls from the passenger seat down by the bowling ball that's not a bowling ball.
The driver's side door wouldn't open. I pull on the handle and give it a shove, but nothing. I try again and it's stuck.
My leg hurts. I look down and see my jeans are ripped and a cut on my leg is dripping blood. I get out of the passenger seat and crawl through a crack in the car.
We were in the middle of the forest on a barely used road and there was no one around. No sounds, no cars ... I pull my cell out of my pocket. I lit the display and use it as a flashlight.
Violet was leaned over, rubbing my leg when the car went off the road. The tree cut straight through her. There were her shoulders, covered in thick liquid -- and then nothing else.
Brian wasn't wearing his seatbelt. The back door is open and he's gone. Thrown from the car. The window by Hannah's seat is broken and covered with blood. I tiptoe next to the car and look in. The side of her face is pushed in, pieces of glass in her eye. I try to open the door, but I can't. And it doesn't matter. It's too late.
I call 911.
I look around for Brian while I wait, using the light from my phone. The rain disappeared just as fast as it arrived. The clouds give way to the stars. They twinkle, just like normal, as if nothing has changed. Nothing happened. Everything is exactly how it was. I inhale, take a breath deep into my lungs and exhale.
I hear a moan. I shine the phone the direction of the sound and spot Brian on the ground. He pulled himself away from the car, but I'm not sure where he's going. And I can't tell if he's okay or not.
But he's making noise, which is better than nothing.
"Hey, man, I called for help. Someone should be here any minute."
I reach down and hold his hand.
\*\*\*
I shake the memories from that night out of my head. The red digital clock on Josh's dash reads 10:19 just as I come around the curb from that night. I could never forget the location of the curb. I came back almost every day after the accident. It was weird at first because sometimes I would see Violet's mom here. She'd be out by the fallen tree, sitting on the stump, with her head buried in her hands. I'd hide in the forest on the other side of the road and watch her sob, her shoulders shaking like a demon was being exorcised from inside of her.
And maybe that's the thing about mourning. An exorcism is needed to take away all the bad feelings. All the horrible things that make you feel like you can't take another breath or live one more day.
It's a horrible place to be. I've been there and if I had a choice I would have been the one leaning over the center of the car when the tree cut straight through it.
I don't know what I'm expecting when I round the bend. I slow down and pull over to the side of the road and flash the headlights towards the infamous tree. It's 10:21 and I'm too late. I turn off the engine and get out of the car. It's perfectly quiet. No one is around. All the shrubs on the side of the road are untouched. I spot the towering pine in the distance and it's still standing.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
"Is anyone out here?"
Silence.
I walk to the tree. It's all in one piece. I feel water seeping through my shoes from the night's rain. The clouds have raced away, leaving dots of light in the sky, just like that night. Just like I remember it.
Everything in the forest is illuminated.
But they're not here.
And it's then that I start to laugh.
A weird laugh -- like someone hysterical, too close to the edge, mixed with enthusiasm, like I've just won the lottery. I barely recognize the sound as coming from myself.
Dr. Thompson was right. You can change your past.
\*\*\*
I get back into the car and drive towards town. My eyes are peeled along the side of the road looking for headlights or tire tracks leading off the side. There's nothing.
The glow from town gets brighter and the traffic picks up. I head to Tommy's Italian Pizzeria. Josh's car is parked in the front of the restaurant. I stop and get out. I examine the outside of the car, looking for dents or scratches. Nothing. The car looks like it was just driven off the lot.
I open the door to the pizzeria and spot them sitting at a table. Violet and Hannah are sitting next to each other. Josh and Brian are playing a video game. A huge half-eaten pepperoni pizza sits on the middle of the table.
Violet looks up and sees me in the doorway. "Matt! What are you doing here? We were going to bring pizza back for you."
She's taken off the purple sweater so she's wearing just the white t-shirt she had on underneath. The t-shirt is covered with little purple lint balls. They're like balls of light.
I reach down and give her a hug. She still smells like the cosmetic counter at Nordstrom, only now it's mixed with the faint smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
"I'm glad you're okay."
She looks up at me and smiles. It's a loopy smile, happy and without a care in the world. The kind of smile that comes from having a few too many beers to drink and no worries in the world. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"
I shake my head. "Josh shouldn't have driven. You're all riding back with me. I can't believe you'd get in a car with him."
"Great! Let's go, we ordered an extra pizza and Hannah and I have just been waiting for the guys to finish playing that video game."
Violet makes her way towards the pizza and Hannah goes over to retrieve Josh and Brian. Everyone is here, breathing and moving.
I feel a smile cross my face. It's been a long time since I smiled.
Farrah--Kate
I couldn't sleep. I spent the night tossing and turning and staring at the digital clock on the counter beside my bed. I have no idea what happened to Matt.
All I know is that he didn't come back.
I sit in the lobby waiting for the others, fearing the worst, and scared of what's to come. Members of security are pacing. A guard keeps looking out the window like Matt will walk up and it will be like nothing happened.
My stomach twists in knots as we ride out to the desert. The bus is silent. Two people have traveled and only one person came back.
I don't know what it means for the rest of us.
If they'll still send us back or if they'll cancel the rest of the program and just keep us here.
I don't know what it means for my mother.
We take off our goggles and pile out of the bus. The desert is empty. We stay close to the bus and the air conditioning that blows out on us. It's the only way to stay alive out here.
We all came back to wait for Matt. Maybe he missed a vortex, so his return has been delayed. That's what Dr. Thompson said: he might still return. But I have a sinking feeling in my stomach, like he planned this all along. I knew there was a reason I felt like Matt was the last person I'd see at a place like IYD. Because, besides myself, Matt is the last type of person who would go to a school controlled by the Party.
We stand out there for an eternity, just waiting for him.
Shannon's the first person to give up and go back on the bus. I don't blame her; my skin sizzles under the desert sun. Casey shares the worried expression that I have burning inside me. She shrugs her shoulders and heads to the bus. Marcus goes next. The air conditioning is blasting inside. Inside the bus are bottles of water and food. I don't blame them.
My skin blisters, but I stay rooted to the spot. It's just Rick, Dr. Thompson, Liam and I out in the heat. I shift further into the shade. Rick's skin's so red that it looks like it's boiling. His face is strained. I know Rick counted Matt as his only friend.
Dr. Thompson looks at the digital timer on the Slider. I can see the time over his shoulder. Matt was supposed to be back hours ago. The vortexes on the other side are closing.
He missed the window
Dr. Thompson shakes his head and starts pacing. We've been standing around in silence, everyone exhibiting their own way of dealing with their nervous energy. Everyone is too on edge to say a word.
The time has passed and we have to accept what no one wants to say.
"I'm going to have the bus take everyone back to headquarters. Farrah, you need your rest and there's no way of knowing what happened to Matt. Why don't we pack our stuff up and get going. Liam, go ahead and bring the van around so we can head back."
I make eye contact with the others, but still no one speaks. I know the silence is part because of me. It's no secret how I feel about Matt. No one wants to say out loud what everyone believes.
Matt's not coming back.
Liam pulls the bus around and we start loading the gear. I take a seat in the front by the window and lean my head against the glass. Out the window I watch Liam and Dr. Thompson speak to each other. Dr. Thompson looks at the time on the Slider again. He holds it up and starts pressing buttons. Then he shakes his head. Liam says something and Dr. Thompson waves him away. Liam heads towards the van and Dr. Thompson returns back to his seat.
Liam steps into the van and sits in the driver's seat. "Get your goggles on," he calls out behind him, not bothering to check if we comply. I pull the mask over my eyes, thankful to block out the world. He starts the engine and pulls away.
\*\*\*
The bus pulls into to the hotel garage and the heavy metal door shuts with a clank behind us. I'm the first person off. I walk into the lobby in a daze. It's full of security guards. I overhear something about a breach that occurred while we were gone. Out the window I see a white sheet covering something shaped like a body. The sheet is splattered with red. I head over to the elevator to return to my room. I don't want anyone to see me.
My room is dark. I don't bother to turn on the lights. I walk to my bed and pull the blankets up to my chin and close my eyes. I'm still wearing the clothes I put on this morning. The smell of dried sweat from too many hours outside burns my nose.
I should get up to take a shower but I don't.
Visions from the day are like a movie in front of my eyes. I close my eyes and try to make Matt's face disappear. But there he is, standing in the middle of the desert, waiting for the vortexes to open up to take him away.
I hope nothing happened to him, that the vortexes didn't pull him into nothing but his constituent molecules. I don't think it's that, though. I think he didn't come back because he didn't want to.
When I came out here, all I wanted was one more moment with my mother. I can barely remember her. My memories are fading to nothing but what I see in the films. I wasn't expecting to fall so hard for a guy I just met. A guy who had a secret from the past he needed to resolve.
I'm about to get my chance.
I lay it on my bed and turn to my side. Tomorrow is my turn. It's the moment I've been waiting for ten years.
\*\*\*
I must doze off because the buzzing of my alarm startles me enough that I almost fall out of bed. I turn my head; my neck is stiff and my head hurts like I slept all night with my jaw clenched shut.
I open my mouth. My jaw pops. I lift my arms over my head and stretch.
I want to close my eyes again when I'm startled awake by the memory that today's my day. Today's my day to travel.
It's my turn to go back.
I sit up and swing my legs to the side. The room's so quiet.I pad down the hall to the shower.
\*\*\*
I don't eat; we're not supposed to. I wait in the foyer with everyone else. I'm leaning forward with my eyes closed, trying not to think too hard about what's about to happen.
If I think too hard about it, it will freak me out.
I hear a door open and the sound of murmurs. I look up and see Dr. Thompson with Marvin Winn. Marvin is wearing a suit. He looks like he aged over night.
For a man with a time machine, he doesn't seem to be using it to stop the aging process.
"I'm glad everyone is down here. I want to talk to you about what happened to your classmate."
Marvin smiles at us and makes his way over to a chair. Dr. Thompson waits as Marvin slowly sits down, balancing his weight on his cane as he lowers himself into the chair. Once he's settled he looks around the room and gives us a warm smile.
"Matt was supposed to enter the vortex to return home. There were several vortexes available and he's failed to return. We believe something happened in the past that prevented his return. Perhaps he went outside the list that Lisa provided. It's important when you go back to only follow what's on the list. Now he's missed the window. All efforts at communication have been lost. Our research shows that missing the Slide by more than five hours makes it exponentially more difficult to return."
Dr. Thompson gives us a few minutes to absorb the information. I feel eyes on me, boring into me, waiting for me to freak out, but I choose to ignore them.
"We need to make sure everyone understands part of the agreement you signed when you came to IYD. You're going back to change only what we asked of you. Nothing else. We need you to return through the open window. Now, I need everyone to review the document you signed when you entered IYD. Don't go against Party rules. The outcome could be disastrous."
Dr. Thompson pulls a stack of papers from inside a folder he's been holding in his right hand and starts passing the papers around. It's the same release agreement we signed when we came.
The reality of what's about to happen hits me like falling meteor.
I pretend like I'm reading the agreement even though I have it memorized.
Once everyone has signed the form, Marvin stands up like he has something to say.
He says, "Class." We all look up. Everyone listens when Marvin speaks. "You are the Party's future. The Slider is truly a world changing invention and the proper use of the Slider is imperative. Please, it's important you follow your timeline as close as possible. We need you to return. We don't want to lose anyone else." His eyes are on me when he finishes speaking.
But he's got nothing to worry about.
\*\*\*
I must hold my breath as we drive out to the desert because every few seconds I find myself gulping for air. My mind is filled with thoughts about Matt and worry about sliding into the past.
What if the reason Matt didn't come back was because the travel wasn't safe? I mean; Rick's the only person who has come back. What if the Slider doesn't work? What then? Will I get trapped in the tunnel? Will all the molecules in my body get ripped apart, disintegrating me?
Norris and Matt both disappeared after entering the vortex. What if I'm next?
I shake my head. I can't let myself freak out. I came for one reason and one reason only: to have one last moment with my mother. And nothing is going to stop me from seeing her one last time.
Dr. Thompson calls my name, breaking through my panicked thoughts.
It's time to go.
Farrah--Kate
Ten Years Earlier
She sits in front of the mirror on her red velvet vanity chair. She leans closer to the mirror, examining her features and then backs away. I watch her from the doorway of her room as she pulls back the skin on her forehead. Her very faint wrinkles disappear. They're more like smile lines, really. She spreads red lipstick over her lips and smiles. She's the Joker from Batman. The smile is all wrong though. There's no happy behind the smile.
My heart feels like it might burst. It's her; it really is her, after all this time.
It's my mother.
I want to say something but I can't. Back then I used to watch her in silence as she sat for hours examining her expression. I should've told her how beautiful she looked. She always looked beautiful to me -- in a frozen and distant type of way -- like an ice princess.
Life is full of should haves.
I feel something brush up against my leg. It's Bandage.
"Hey, Bandage!" I reach down and scratch his head. Bandage was my cat. Poor cat got hit by a car on a day my dad left the front door open to grab the phone. A piece of my heart breaks off as I bend down to scratch his head.
Mom wipes red lipstick off her teeth and tries another smile. The looks are her movie star poses. They're the looks that, at one time, made her famous.
The sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway, headed my direction. I forgot what the sound of Dad's heavy steps sounded like on our house's wood floors back when he was so full of life. The sound thud, thud, thuds down the hall. I cross my arms in front of myself protectively.
His eyes narrow when he sees me standing outside Mom's room. "Farrah, you should be in bed. What are you doing up still?"
I hesitate. I was always a little afraid of Dad when I was a kid. "I want to say goodnight to Mom." My voice is high and small. It's so quiet that I barely hear the words coming out of my mouth. I'm eight again and my mom's still alive. I want to save her from her demons but I don't know how.
"Well," he says, and he peeks in the crack of the door at her. She doesn't turn around. Like she doesn't even know we're outside. "She hasn't been feeling well lately. Maybe you should just go off to bed. It's way past your bedtime. You should've been in bed hours ago. Mom's going to take you to an audition tomorrow and she can't have you falling asleep on set."
I can't stop watching her through the crack in the door. I want to go in the bedroom and hug her, but I can't. I'm going through the motions of a past that already happened.
"Farrah," Dad says again. He reaches over and puts his hand on my shoulder. "It's time to get off to bed." And he directs me away from the door.
I walk down the hallway, towards my darkened bedroom.
\*\*\*
Mom's audition is at the Centennial. The part is for a commercial. That's it, just some crappy commercial for laundry soap. It's been a long time since Mom has been in a movie. She's wearing a denim skirt from K-Mart and huge Hollywood sunglasses that cover the circles under her eyes. I follow her out to the car and get in the backseat without saying anything. Being around Mom is like being in the presence of a sun that's about to explode, shining with everything it's got for one last time. I'm afraid to say anything around her at all.
We listen to Nirvana and Pearl Jam on the drive. Mom weaves in and out of traffic. She moves into the right lane. A horn blares and I peek out the window at a car that's just inches from us. Mom swerves back into her lane. I catch my breath. I don't know why a near sideswipe would make me nervous. I know nothing is going to happen to me. That's the amazing thing, knowing for certain that it's not me the Grim Reaper is about to come looking for.
It's Mom I'm worried about.
\*\*\*
We pull into the parking lot. The lot is filled with fancy cars with foreign names -- the vehicles of the stars who have already made it and studio executives sitting around conference tables to discuss the Next Big Thing. Mom drives towards the back of the lot to park next to the hopefuls: beaten down metal boxes. One has a broken window. The car she parks beside has a huge dent on the bumper. She cuts the engine, then holds perfectly still and doesn't move. I hear deep breaths and can see her chest expanding from where I sit in the backseat. The upholstery is peeling back and I tug at the foam from inside the seat while I wait. Another car pulls alongside us and a tall woman with huge melon breasts and California blonde hair steps out and walks towards the building. Mom watches her reflection in the rearview mirror, but doesn't speak.
"Mom?" I'm still getting used to my voice. It's been so long.
She doesn't move. I'm wearing a plastic watch with a Hello Kitty face. The second hand clicks around the circle. Her audition is in a few minutes, and she can't be late. She's not in that kind of position anymore.
I try again. "Mom?"
"Just a minute, dear, I need to fix my makeup." Her voice is shaky. I recognize the sound of fear; Mom always let her nerves get the best of her. It sounds worse now. Like at the time I didn't know how bad it was.
She pulls out her makeup bag and adjusts the rearview mirror. She reapplies eyeliner, shadow, and bright red lipstick. She powders her face and pulls out a can of aerosol hairspray. The smell fills the car and coats the closed windows. The glass gets foggy and I can barely see outside. I turn my face so I don't choke.
The second hand ticks closer to two. "Mom, I think you're going to be late if we don't start towards the building."
She wipes a tube of sticky gloss over her dark lipstick. From the backseat I can see her hand shaking.
"Okay, Farrah, I'm counting on you to be my good luck charm today. Let's go."
She steps out of the car and I follow her into the building. From the back she looks like all the other young hopefuls walking to an audition with stars in her eyes.
Mom liked to flip her hair like a 70s icon, like she was back in a time when everyone wore their hair like Farrah Fawcet and wore skinny shirts with bellbottom jeans. Mom's hair was always a variation of that flip. And she was always super skinny.
It's the lines on her face that gives away her secrets.
We walk in the front door and Mom stands in the doorway, looking around the room. It's clear by peeking around her side that I'm the only kid. I try to make myself invisible behind my mom's small frame. I'm sure everyone can see me though and I start counting tiles on the well-worn floors.
A woman sits behind a desk with a notebook full of names in front of her. Mysterious asterisks highlight some of the names. Mom's isn't one of them.
Mom walks up to the lady behind the desk. "Hi."
"Name please?"
When I was little everybody knew Mom's name. I remember clinging to her leg as people would come up and ask for her autograph. We always got the best seats in restaurants. But the public has a short memory.
"Lynette Ryan."
The lady looks over the top of her glasses and points her pen down the list. She spots it and places a check mark next to her name. Not an asterisk.
"Okay, Ms. Ryan, have a seat. Someone will be right with you."
The lady goes back to a crossword puzzle she has hidden underneath some official looking papers. I follow Mom to the back of the waiting room, towards a spot with two side-by-side chairs. She sits and I perch down next to her. I try to glue myself to her leg to try to hide from the curious looks aimed our way.
A hipster with long greasy hair and a clipboard comes out and calls a name. A woman with jet black hair and vampire white skin follows him behind the doors. Mom picks up a copy of Good Housekeeping magazine and starts flipping through the pages without reading anything. I fold my hands on my lap and size up the other women in the room to guess at Mom's chances for getting the part.
None of the women can hold a candle to my mom.
We sit flipping through magazines for an hour. The other women's names are called out. Even a youngish-woman with platinum blonde hair and lipstick the color of Mom's rhododendrons who came in after us has her name called before Mom's. Mom watches her go when she's called. I look at my watch for the one-hundredth time.
"Maybe the receptionist forgot about us," I lean over and whisper in Mom's ear.
Mom's eyes narrow. "I don't see how that's possible since I'm sitting right in front of her," she whispers back.
The doors open and Mr. Hipster returns with his clipboard. "Lynette Ryan?"
Mom's hands shake again. I have no idea why Mom's so nervous. She's the prettiest woman in the world and the only one here that I'm sure has been in movies. She's special. She stands up and takes a deep breath and follows the guy to the back room.
After she's gone, I move to an empty seat next to the door, hoping to hear what's going on inside. My eight-year-old self is sure Mom will get the part. My seventeen-year-old self realizes Mom's light shone brightest for me.
But try as I might, I can't hear anything. When the receptionist turns away I press my ear against the wall. The voices are too far away to make out the words. Mom's voice sounds like it's coming from another world. In some ways, I imagine it is.
The audition doesn't last long. It's the shortest of all the auditions. Mom walks out alone and her face is blank. It tells me nothing. I'm dying to ask her how it went. I give her a hopeful look for a clue, but she walks past me, towards the exit, like she forgot I'm even there. I jump off my seat and follow her. The receptionist doesn't look up as we leave.
"Mom, wait for me."
Mom turns around and it's evident from her expression that she did, in fact, forget about me. I run to catch up.
"Come on, Farrah, let's go down to the pier."
"Okay!"
I love the pier but I also know it's where Mom goes when her life isn't as she wants it. By now, Mom and I had been spending a lot of time there.
\*\*\*
Mom buys me one of those multi-colored lollipops from a street vendor and I follow her out to our 'spot'. She sits down and faces west. The sun drifts down towards the horizon, casting a pinkish glow on the blue water. I sit down as close to her as I dare and transfer the red and blue colors onto my tongue.
Mom doesn't say anything. Instead she rocks back and forth. The rocking is new. I'd never seen her rock before. She places her hands under her legs and kicks her legs back and forth over the edge of the dock. Her bony knees jut out from her skirt. The sun drifts lower before it becomes a glowing orange ball on the water. I want to reach over and hold her hand but I'm too scared.
Lower and lower sinks the sun. When it becomes a sliver I hold my breath until it's gone. Then darkness takes over the sky. Lights go on around us. Little stars of light on earth. The bustling of families on the beach disappears and I wish I had a jacket. I know Dad will worry about us.
I'm worried and I want to go home. But I know we'll sit there for a while. That's one thing I remember.
It's as if Mom has forgotten I'm next to her. She can't take her eyes off the horizon or stop rocking.
The voices in the distance change from family fun days to teens on a night out with friends. Even though they're getting further away, the voices get louder.
I want to ask Mom about the audition. And I want to go home. But I can't. I'm stuck here on the time continuum.
Slowly, surely, stars begin to wink into view.
Mom's watch glows in the dim light.
She turns to me and smile, but her eyes are far away. "You know I'm part of you, right?"
I nod my head, not really sure what she means, but feeling like it's something I should agree to. "Yeah."
"Whatever happens, wherever life takes us, I'll always be right here." She reaches over and places her hand against my heart. Her hand is cold, like her life is already seeping out of her. "I'll live my life through you, Farrah. I'll always be right there with you."
I don't know what to say so I say nothing. Darkness overtakes the sky and the activity from the pier gets louder. Minutes tick by. Time keeps moving, pulling us along.
"Well now, I think we shall go." She gets up and her skinny legs wobble from sitting too long. The planks underneath us have etched weird lines into the backs of her legs.
Mom starts walking towards the car and I follow behind in silence.
Farrah--Kate
At home I study my reflection in the mirror. The reflection is from the past. I examine the person looking back at me as I run the brush through my hair one hundred strokes. I read that in a magazine. It's one of those things you believe when you're eight-years-old.
I'm wearing Hello Kitty pajamas, bright pink with little white kitties. I loved these pajamas.
I hear soft footsteps padding down the hallway. The soft footsteps belong to mom. Dad's were like a horse with metal shoes walking on the wood floors. Mom's were like a fairy steps.
It was almost as if she had wings.
A knock on the door and then the door creaks open and mom peeks in her head.
"Farrah, sweetheart? Are you ready for bed?"
I look at her and I want to cry, but I can't.
"Almost."
"You need to get your sleep Farrah." She walks into my room and sits on my bed. She looks around at the walls, taking in the posters like she's seeing them for the first time.
"Mom... I..." I pause. There are a million things I want to say to her. I want to reach over and hug her, I want to tell her I love her.
I want to give her another chance.
Dad and I should have tried harder earlier. Told her we loved her more. Not let her attribute all of her self-worth to her career.
But it was almost too late. There's only one more chance.
She leans down and kisses my forehead. Her lips are cool and they linger just a tad bit longer than normal. They feel like deli meat right out of the refrigerator against my skin. Even at eight I could tell right then that her life was slipping away.
She gets up and walks to the doorway. The lump in my throat grows, it sinks down into my chest where it feels like it will explode.
She pauses in the doorway. "Farrah-Kate, you know I love you, right?"
I nod my head. "I love you too."
"I'll live forever in your heart. Don't forget that, okay?"
"I won't."
"Promise?"
I nod my head. "Yes."
"Okay sweetheart, sweet dreams," she closes the door so slowly that if I hadn't watched her leave, I would have barely known she was gone.
Farrah--Kate
The next morning I sit in my room, straining my ears to hear the voices arguing in the living room. Dad's in his third year at law school and we need Mom to work. Mac and cheese for dinner every night is proof that we're running low. Dad hates mac and cheese. The only reason he eats it is because he has to.
"Lynn, if you're not going to be acting then you need to find some other type of job. Until I graduate, I won't have any income. In a few years you'll be able to go out on auditions again. But we need the money. Our credit cards are maxed out, the rent is late, and the fridge is empty. What are we going to feed Farrah if neither of us is working?"
There's a long pause before Mom starts speaking. For a moment I wonder if she's whispering and I just can't hear her. But then her voice is loud and clear. "I don't have a couple of years, Bill. A couple of years is an entire lifetime for an actress. I'm thirty-seven. No one will cast me once I'm forty."
Dad doesn't skip a beat. "So what are we supposed to eat? My law books? Are these auditions handing out food for the hopefuls in the lobby?"
"Don't call me a hopeful."
"Well, what are we supposed to eat?"
"I'll go down to the food bank."
"Jesus, Lynn, my family doesn't get food from the food bank. We need for you to find steady work. Pick up a newspaper tomorrow and start researching job opportunities! Acting is a pipe dream. Your agent hasn't called in months. The last movie you were in was from before Farrah was even born! Your auditions come from an ads in the newspaper, for Christ's sake."
I cringe at Dad's words. They slice through the air, sending a chill through the house. Dad will regret them later.
The sound of something like high-pitched hiccups comes from the living room, followed by silence.
A few minutes later I hear the heavy sound of footsteps. They stomp down the hallway and don't hesitate outside my room. A door slams and the house falls silent, save the sound of the evening news on TV.
After Dad leaves I walk out of my bedroom. The channel has been changed: now it's a soap opera. I pad down the hall as quiet as I can towards the living room. I'm afraid if Mom hears me she'll run away.
She's sitting on the only couch we ever owned, sunken down with her knees pulled up to her chest, resting her chin on her knobby joints. She's staring at the characters on the box, watching their every move: Mom studies acting so closely. For her it's the only thing that matters.
I tiptoe to the edge of the room, unsure what to do next. I need to stop Mom from spiraling down into her dark place. The night at the hotel is closing in on us. But how do I make it stop?
Lisa's instructions were to not let her go to the hotel that night. But she didn't tell me how.
"Mom?"
She looks away from the TV. Rivers of mascara have dried on her cheeks. Her eyes are red and puffy. But she smiles at me. Mom always saved her smiles for me.
She wipes the back of her hand under nose and then runs her fingers through her hair. "Farrah, I didn't see you there. Shouldn't you be at school or something?"
"It's spring break."
"Oh."
I walk in and sit on the edge of the couch. Victor and Nikki are fighting. Nikki's hair is perfect as she goes on about whatever Victor has done wrong on this episode. Victor and Nikki have been fighting since I was born.
"Do you want to look at ads in the paper? I bet there are some great jobs. I'm sure anyone would hire you."
Mom looks away from the TV. She doesn't want to get a job but she knows she has to. Mom hasn't worked since I was born. But now I'm practically old enough to stay home by myself.
"Okay. We'll go down to the store later and get a paper. I'll let you circle the jobs you think I should apply for and we'll get popsicles. If we can find enough jobs we'll go out and drop off resumes tomorrow. It's what Dad wants me to do. You'll be okay if I get a job, won't you?"
I nod my head. Anything to get Mom's mind off her failed acting career.
I jump off the couch. "Popsicles, yeah!" And I bound back to my room, bouncing all the way. Things are changing. Maybe Mom won't end up on a sidewalk outside a hotel.
Farrah--Kate
The next morning I get up early and I don't know why. Maybe that's the way these time travel things work -- like a loop that keeps going around and around. I know what's going to happen, but I don't.
I pick out Mom's favorite outfit. It's a dress, even though I hate wearing dresses. I plug in my curling iron and twist my hair around the way Mom taught me, careful not to burn my hand. I pull out my Mary Janes from my closet. It's a day to look professional because I'm going to help Mom find a job, even though I know Mom's employment prospects are dim. As I get ready, the house is in total silence.
I want to look my best. Because back then it was the last day I saw my mother.
I walk into the kitchen and wait at the table. My eight-year-old self is trying to make life easy for Mom. All dressed and ready for whatever the day has in store.
Dad comes into the kitchen wearing jeans and a polo-shirt with his book bag hanging off his shoulder. He fiddles with the coffee maker until it starts steaming and spitting water. While he waits for the coffee to finish, he folds his arms over his chest. When the sputtering stops he gets out a mug and pours half the contents in and screws on the lid.
Once he's done with his morning ritual, he spins around and sees me for the first time.
"You're up early," he mutters at me as he heads to the door.
"Yeah! I'm going to help Mom find a job today!" My voice is more enthusiastic than I mean it to be. It's like I can make it happen by saying the words.
"Does she know that?"
I shrug my shoulders and glance down the hallway towards her bedroom. There is absolutely no movement.
"Well, it would be great if you could actually help her find one. I wouldn't hold my breath though."
He opens the door and lets it fall back behind him. It clacks against the doorway when it shuts, echoing through the house. The car's engine starts and fades as he pulls out of the driveway.
\*\*\*
Mom doesn't make an appearance until almost 10:00. I sit on the couch watching Mom's soap operas, waiting for her to come out of the room so I can help her find a job. I'm sure anybody will hire my mom. They just need to meet her.
I eat three bowls of Lucky Charms and the only thing that stops me from a fourth is the fact I already picked all the marshmallows out of the box. I want to go down to her room and knock on the door. My ears are on high alert, waiting for the sound of her coming down the hallway. But the only sounds in the house are my breathing, Bandage's purring, and the TV.
Being around Mom is like walking on eggshells. She lives between her movie star self and her has-been self. It's impossible to balance between the two. To be around her is to always be super careful to not send her to the wrong side. My goal was to always keep Mom as her movie star self, not the self that looked like it was about to self-destruct.
But when you're eight and your mom's still around, life's still all sunshine and rainbows.
The soft sound of footsteps tickles my ears and I hear the shower run. Forty minutes later Mom comes out wearing a suit with broad shoulders pads that make her look like a scarecrow masquerading in the clothes of a linebacker.
She places a newspaper on the table and gives me a weak smile. It's the same newspaper from yesterday -- the one we circled the jobs in. "So, I guess you're stuck with me today, Farrah. You can wait in the car while I drop off resumes."
"Good!" I jump off the couch excitedly. I'm positive that someone really lucky will hire Mom. At least, my eight-year-old self is.
\*\*\*
We spend the first part of the afternoon driving through the business district. Mom walks into tall buildings, the glass windows reaching up to the sky, to drop off her resume. The trips are quick. Every time she stops and gets out of the car I wonder how long she'll be, if they'll interview her right on the spot, if they'll want her to work the same day. I'm sure every person Mom hands her resume to will want to hire her right then. I fret over who will watch me while dad at school. But she's never gone long. Every time she returns she has that same worried look.
By four o'clock she's checked off our list. We drive around in circles until we arrive at the mall. For a minute I think we'll go shopping. Kelly Miller, the girl from my school all the girls want to be, just got the cutest wedge sandals and I want a pair. I've been talking to Mom about them all week. But instead she grabs what's left of her resumes and steps out of the car.
"Farah-Kate, why don't you follow me inside? It's going to be a while and I don't want you waiting in the car by yourself. I'll give you a five and maybe you can get an Orange Julius or something."
I hop out of the car. I love Orange Julius. The idea of a fruity, frozen drink makes me forget why we're walking inside.
I walk to the center of the mall to get my drink while Mom walks into J.C. Penney's. There is nothing more depressing than J.C. Penney's. Mom has her resume firmly in hand as she walks in the store.
A clique of teens hangs out in the food court. I want nothing more than to be a teen and wear heeled shoes and makeup. Mom still doesn't let me wear makeup. The day I snuck into her room to put on her blue eye shadow she made me wash my face with her goopy cream. Dad laughed as Mom stood red-faced in the bathroom door making sure I got off every last speckle. These girls are everything I want to be. I can't stop staring as they swish their hair over their shoulders and giggle at the guys who can't take their eyes off of them.
Mom comes out of J.C. Penney's and spots me sitting alone at a table. She pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. She rests her chin on the flat of her hand and sighs. "I guess we're done for the day."
I nod my head. The high school students giggle in the distance. We might as well be in a different universe.
"Are you hungry?"
I look down at my empty Orange Julius. Besides Lucky Charms, it's all I've eaten all day. "Yes."
"Good, I know just the place."
\*\*\*
The place is a bar that has patio seating where parents can sit outside with their children. It's a warm spring day and the patio is filled with dejected hopefuls talking about parts they didn't get, failed auditions, unruly managers. The hostess seats us at a table at the very end of the patio next to a gate and the door where servers rush in and out.
Mom whips out a cigarette and lights it between her shaking fingers. In the middle of the hipsters on the patio, Mom is out of place in her eighties suit and her eight-year-old daughter.
The waiter looks like a high school student suffering through a day of torture. "Get you something to drink?" Mom looks over the menu. She can't make up her mind. "It's happy hour," the waiter offers. He picks up a card in the middle of the table and hands it to mom. I can see ½ Off Drinks From 3 -- 7 across the top.
"Oh great, okay, how about a lemon drop martini? And she'll take a regular lemonade and a plate of appetizers from the menu."
The waiter walks away and Mom is satisfied with the order. She lights another cigarette. The wind catches the smoke and blows it in my face. It burns the inside of my nose. A couple of minutes later, the waiter brings our drinks out to us. Mom takes a couple of sips. The day melts away. Mom takes off her jacket and undoes the top couple of buttons on her blouse. It's been so long since Mom's been out. It's like she forgets I'm there.
A group of guys sitting on the other side of the patio keep looking our direction. Mom doesn't notice them. The waiter brings our food and Mom orders a second drink. She's lost in her own world.
"Lynette?"
Mom looks up and recognition crosses her face. Goosebumps rise all over my body. It's the guy. The guy I've been watching out for. The guy Mom left with to go to the hotel. And Lisa gave me instructions to make sure it didn't happen.
"Greg!" She stands up and hugs him. He holds on a little longer than necessary. Then he plants a kiss on each of her cheeks. It's all very LA. "God, it's been so long. It's been..." Mom looks at me like she just then remembers I'm there.
He says, "Since before Farrah was born. Last time was during Taxi Driver. How have you been?"
"Wonderful," Mom lies.
"Still acting? I haven't seen you forever. I guess everything changes once you have a kid, huh?"
I want to disappear. To slip through a crack in the sidewalk or a vortex to take me back to the presence. I ruined Mom's career. But I have to stay. I have to keep Mom away from the hotel.
"You know I took some time off to be with Farrah, but now that she's getting older I'm getting back into things. I went to an audition yesterday. I can't wait to start acting again."
"That's great..." He looks back to his table. "Do you want to come join us? It's been so long. There's like a million things we can catch up on. Maybe we can get your kid a separate table and some crayons or something."
Mom looks at me and for a flash of a second I think she'll say "no". But this is one of her Hollywood friends. And all mom ever wanted was Hollywood.
"Sure, we'd love to join you."
Greg has the waiter pull up a separate table for me with crayons and a kid's menu to color on. Crayons are for babies. But Mom is talking to her friends. So I color and listen in on them talking. All I have to do is make sure Mom doesn't go to the hotel. If she doesn't end up at the hotel she'll have a different ending. She deserves a different ending.
They order another round of drinks. By now I've colored everything on the menu. I listen to Mom's lies about her career. She won't tell them she's an out of work actress. This is the life she always wanted.
Greg's an actor in one of those soap operas Mom watches during the day. He lives on Sunset Blvd. and he's having a party the South Beverly Hotel.
"I could have Bill come pick up Farrah." Mom glances over at me. A look of guilt crosses her face. "If I could just use your phone." Mom's voice is small when she says it. She can't afford a cellular phone.
Greg hands her his phone and she walks to the other side of the gate to call Dad. I hear her voice. For once, she sounds excited. It's a long conversation. I know Dad said "no" but she tries to talk him into it anyway.
Mom returns with a smile on her face. "Bill will be here for Farrah as soon as he fights his way through traffic.
"Mom?" She looks at me for the first time. "Can we just go home?"
"Dad's on his way." She looks back at me, annoyed. I hate pushing her.
"Why can't we just go?"
Greg gives me one of those looks you give when you don't have any kids. I don't care. He doesn't know what will happen.
"Farrah, don't use that tone."
"But ... Please? Let's just go. I have ... a stomach ache."
"Dad will be here in a few."
"But I'm sick --"
"Farrah--Kate! You were fine a few minutes ago!"
"Mom!"
She leans down and whispers in my ear. "These people know people. I need to get back to work and maybe they can help me. Be good!" Then she goes into the restaurant and returns with another menu for me to color. "Here, do this while we wait for Dad."
She returns to the table.
\*\*\*
I color the front and the back and fake puking sounds that Mom ignores. Greg flashes me a few curious gazes and then returns his attention to Mom. In the time we're waiting, she smokes three more cigarettes and has another martini.
Dad walks out to the patio in khaki pants and an untucked white t-shirt. He glances at Mom and pulls up a chair across from where I'm sitting.
"What's going on, Farrah?"
"Nothing. I want to go home and I want Mom to come too."
He looks at Mom. She's still talking to Greg. "Okay, I'll talk to her.'
He walks over to her and grabs her arm. Mom pulls it away and they walk away from the patio. They're arguing. Mom's waving her hands in the air. Acting was always more important. It was all she ever wanted.
After an eternity, Dad returns.
"Let's go, Farrah."
"Dad."
"Come on, Farrah."
"Mom?"
"I'll be home later, Farrah."
I don't get up. Dad's waiting. Tears fill my eyes. Dad gives me a strange look.
"Mom, please? Will you come with us?"
Her face softens, but it's not enough. "Later, Farrah, I'll be home later. I promise."
Dad grabs my hand and pulls me away.
Farrah--Kate
Mom jumped from a window of the South Beverly Hotel at 12:31 AM. Dad puts me to bed at 10:00 PM. At 10:15 the lights go out. The house is quiet. I wait until 10:30 before I get out of bed. I hid a flashlight under my bed along with a hundred dollars in cash that I took from under Mom and Dad's mattress.
My past is changing. That night I went right to sleep. But this night is different. I flash the light over my clothes and pull out jeans and a sweater. The evenings are still chilly and I have a long way to go.
I open the door as quietly as I can and look down the hall towards Dad's room. The lights are out. The sound of snoring drifts down the hall. I walk across the living room and out the front door.
\*\*\*
The streets are quiet. I walk to the bus stop with my head down. Cars pass by. No one stops. I sit on a bench at a deserted bus stop. I hope no one calls the cops.
The bus driver gives me a curious look when he opens the door. I put a dollar in the machine and walk to the back. The bus is almost deserted. A woman hums to herself. There's a pile of plastic bags in her lap. She looks up at me as I pass.
The bus bounces along the road. I sit in my seat with my head down until my stop. When I get off the woman smiles at me when I pass.
"It'll be okay, dear. You do what you need to do. Whatever it is, you'll be successful. Just believe."
I stop and look at her. She's missing three teeth. She gives me a big smile.
And then I walk off the bus.
\*\*\*
A clock in the lobby says it's 11:59 PM. The bus ride took longer than I expected. I'm almost late.
I know Mom jumped from the rooftop. I also know I don't want anyone to see me.
A guy and a girl in the South Beverly Hotel uniform stand behind the counter. Neither of them looks at me. Maybe I'm stuck in a time warp and I'm invisible. Or maybe they just don't care.
There's a guard by the elevators. I keep my eyes down and turn around. I need to get up to the rooftop.
I head straight to the elevator without looking anyone and press the up arrow. The security guard stares at me. I feel his eyes on my back.
I don't dare move. If I make eye contact with him he'll call the cops and report me.
But I pretend like I belong. Like I'm a hotel guest just returning to my room, back to where my parents are, like I totally belong here.
The elevator dings, the door opens up and I step inside without anyone saying a word.
\*\*\*
The elevator doesn't go to the rooftop. Instead I get off on the top floor. The sound of music is deafening. Anyone trying to sleep would call the cops.
But the South Beverly is a party hotel and industry people only come here for one reason.
I follow the sound of the noise to a door that says 'Exit' in glowing red letters. I turn the handle, expecting it to be locked -- and it turns with no problems. Now the music gets even louder.
A clock in the hallway says it's 12:15 AM. It's almost time. I hope the wheels of time haven't already started.
I slink against the wall, trying to stay invisible in the shadows. A couple comes down the stairs: a wobbly woman in the arms of a man who's pulling her along. She laughs at something he says.
She sees me in the hallway. "Are you lost, sweetie?" She stops and examines me in the shadows. I cower against the wall and don't answer. "You don't want to go up there; you don't want to see what's going on."
"I'm looking for someone," I whisper.
"You won't find what you're looking for up there. It's just a bunch of drugged out Hollywood wannabes. Where are you parents? You should let me call security so you can go back to your room."
"No, don't do that --"
She gives me a skeptical look. "Okay, suit yourself."
Then the couple walks down the stairs and disappear into the dark.
\*\*\*
The rooftop is just the way the woman described. Everyone on top is laughing at their own jokes. Bodies sway in the glow of the lights. The air smells like smoke -- and it's not cigarette smoke, either.
I hear her before I see her. She's in the corner half crying and half yelling at a guy who is twice her size.
And she's leaning against a railing.
Too close to the edge.
"Mom!"
I can't help myself. I know I should be calmer but this is how it happened. She tumbled over the edge to the sidewalk below. No one could say if it was an accident or on purpose. Now that I can see how out of it everyone is, I can understand way.
One of her hands clutches the rail. The other holds a martini glass, liquid sloshing around inside it. Her mascara has dripped down her cheeks. The guy has his hand on her waist and is telling her something. She's shaking her head violently back and forth. Her whole body sways with her. It's a wonder she hasn't already tumbled over.
"Mom!"
I run her direction. She doesn't see me. She doesn't hear me. I'm not sure she sees or hears anything but the man standing in front of her.
"Look, Lynette. I can help you get a part. I just need you to come back to my room so you can look at the script. You can do a reading for me."
"I don't ... I don't do those kind of movies." Her voice is a whisper.
"Lynette, that's all that's left, and you barely have that. If you come back to the room I can see what you've got. But if you don't, I'm afraid all the doors will be closed for you." He puts his hand on her shoulder and she moves closer to the rail.
"I ..."
"You should come with me, Lynette; it's your only chance. You're too old for anything else. The only women getting parts at your age are on the A-Lister. Everyone else is doing my films."
"I don't ..."
He reaches over to grab her arm and she leans against the rail.
"Mom!"
I push my way past him. He smells like the cologne they sell at Walgreens. It takes Mom a minute to realize who I am.
"Farrah? What in the hell are you doing here? Where's Bill?" Her words are slurred, but firm. Like she's been snapped out of a trance.
"I came to get you," I whisper.
She gives me a confused look. Her brow wrinkles as she examines me. "How did you know I was here?" she asks.
I don't know what to say. Instead I grab her hand and gently pull her away from the edge. I can feel the past changing. Time is moving forward. Mom's date with the sidewalk below has changed.
"I want to go home."
She looks over my shoulder at the man. I can feel his eyes boring into me. Disgust fills Mom's face. Mom is desperate. She'd do anything to return to work -- but not that. She'd rather give up then work for a man like him.
"Farrah, I'll have to call Dad to come get you."
I cry. I wasn't expecting to but I can't leave without her. "I want you to come too."
Mom looks around the party. At topless women dancing on the rooftop, the air filled with cigarette smoke. The man across from us.
Her face looks dejected. Like her last chance at a career is moving away.
But so is her date with death.
"Farrah... I..."
"Mom, please?" My voice is desperate. I can't let her stay.
She hesitates and looks around. The topless woman bends over and shakes her butt in the air. "Okay, let's go."
She heads towards the door and I grab her hand. It's cold and damp. And she pulls me out the door.
\*\*\*
Mom gets in the cab and sits in the backseat. Mascara puddles build on her cheeks. She smells like an ashtray. But here she is, alive. Still alive. It's 12:55 AM.
She leans her head against the window. Tears drip down her cheeks. The cab driver looks in the rearview mirror and gives her a curious look. But he doesn't say anything. Instead he just pulls out into the sparse traffic and drives us home.
Mom won't act again. And she knows it. Her night with industry people crushed reality right over her head.
But if she takes it one day at a time she can find another path. A new place in life.
I watch the world pass by outside the window. I marvel at it: the past -- a different past. Nine years ago everything was different. Mom was lying on a sidewalk surrounded by gawkers and now she's in a cab on her way home.
Dr. Thompson was right. You can change your past.
Farrah--Kate
That night I dream Mom and I are on the pier, eating ice cream, watching families pass by. Soft giggles fill the air and the smell of hot dogs wafts over our heads. Then I wake up to silence. Am I home alone? I squint my eyes at the clock by my bed. It's 9:30. Mom should have woken me up an hour ago.
I swing my legs out of bed, touching down on the cold tiles, and I immediately search for my slippers, fluffy pink slippers that look like they've been worn a million times. The house is still silent. Dad is long gone to school. They fought last night when we returned. It lasted almost the entire night.
My slippers make a soft padding sound. I walk into the kitchen and pour an overflowing bowl of sugar filled Lucky Charms. Mom hates cereal full of sugar like that. She always insisted my addiction to sugar was the reason all the other girls in the class were taller. Whatever hopes Mom had for me to be an actress or a model were erased by sugar filled cereal made by corporations that were too cheap to make anything healthier.
I take my bowl of cereal to the couch and flip on the last of the morning cartoons, breaking the silence with comic voices. I should be alarmed but I'm not. Instead I take this quiet morning as an opportunity to eat another bowl of cereal with sugar sprinkled on top.
Three bowls of cereal later the house is still quiet. I consider going down to knock on Mom's door but she was up late last night so instead I head to the refrigerator for a Coke. Mom never lets me drink Coke.
The phone rings. The TV has moved away from cartoons and onto soap operas. The answering machine picks up. It's a call back from Mom's audition. They want to see her again. None of us thought they'd call.
My eight-year-old self is excited. It's the perfect reason to disturb her sleep or whatever she's doing in her room. I pad down the hall. My slippers barely make a sound.
I'm scared to knock on the door. I hate disturbing Mom.
"Mom?"
Silence.
I wait, thinking maybe she's asleep. I can hear the seconds ticking by on the grandfather clock in the hallway and the sound of commercials playing from the living room. Mom's bedroom is completely silent. I knock again, louder this time.
"Mom?"
Still no answer.
The clock says it 11:45 AM. Her hangover should be gone. I stand outside her door and wait for a sound. Any sound to tell me she's on the other side of the door, maybe reading a book or getting ready for the day. But there's still nothing but quiet and goose bumps break out up and down my arms.
I knock again.
Nothing.
"Mom? Can I come in?"
I twist the doorknob and push the door open. It squeaks. Dad keeps saying he's going to grease all the doors in the house, but he never does.
The room is dark. The blinds are still pulled and I can make out her figure on her bed. She's still asleep. I walk quietly towards her.
"Mom? Are you okay?"
She moves and opens her eyes. She hasn't washed off the makeup from the night before. Her blonde hair is a mess, she looks like a wreck, and she smells like a bar.
But she's still alive.
And that's all that matters.
"Good morning, Farrah. What time is it?"
"Almost noon."
"Oh Lord, I better get up then. I can't believe I slept that late." She sits up and rubs her head. "Don't ever show up like that again. It's not safe for you to be out at night by yourself!"
"I won't, Mom." I hesitate with my good news. Last night Mom thought her career was over and now, because she's still here, she gets another chance. "There's a message for you on the machine."
"Really? Who from?"
My smile beams across my face. "From your audition. They want to see you again."
Her face lights up. The bad night is in the past. She has a new path ahead of her. She glows in the afternoon light that peeks through the blinds.
It's like looking at an angel.
And it's time for me to return to the present.
Farrah--Kate
It's time to go back. Everything's changed. My mother's not lying in a box at the morgue. She's at home. And now my time here is up. I have to go back. I have to do everything just the way Dr. Thompson planned.
I did everything that was on the list and nothing more.
I walk into my bedroom and pull out the Slider. I press the buttons to change the mode.
It's time to go home.
\*\*\*
I sneak out the front door while Mom watches soap operas and drinks water. And it's weird. I see myself back in the house, sitting on the end of the couch, wishing we could watch anything else.
It's like I'm separating myself from the past. I don't understand how it works, how I can be two places at once, but I guess don't have to understand. I just need to be sure it works.
I run down the street, following the readout on the Slider. The readout is all funky, like it can't find the hole for the vortex. I think I'm getting close, then the readout changes and I'm not close at all.
There's nothing at the end of the road. The vortex was supposed to be here! Where is it?
I turn in a circle, looking for the wavy lines, the hole in the air.
There's nothing.
The vortex on 164th Street is how I'm supposed to get back. If I miss the vortex, I don't know how I'll get home. I hold the Slider up to the sky. The signal is weak and getting worse. Suddenly I'm afraid. What if I'm lost? What if I can't find my way back?
Matt didn't come back. If you miss the vortex you can end up on the other side forever. And what will I do here? I already finished what needed to be done. Mom is on her own now.
My mind spins in circles as I search for the instructions for returning. Dr. Thompson showed us what to do if we miss the vortex.
Spin the dial for a signal and follow the arrow. When you get close you'll get a reading.
I stop and pull myself together. It's not like I'm going to have to stay in the past forever. I'll be able to get back. I have to. I need to find out what happened to Matt.
But maybe this is what happened to Matt. Maybe he got lost on the other side.
I turn the dial. It spins in a circle, looking from the wrinkle in time that can take me home. But there's still no signal. Nothing. I start running down 164th Street, looking for an intersection. Maybe the buildings are blocking the signal and that's why I can't get back.
As I get closer to the end of the street the dial starts to slow. I'm on the intersection when the dial stops and points to my right. I turn and run the direction the arrow is pointing. The signal gets stronger and I pick up my pace.
The Slider starts to beep.
Bull's eye.
People walk past without noticing. The airwaves blur everything in front of me and the buildings in the background disappear. A man walks alongside the vortex without even blinking. He can't see it. You need the Slider to get through. Without the Slider you can't see what's going on around you.
My hands shake as I switch the Slider to transport mode. It glows in my hand and the red light flashes 'ready'. I look around, taking in the past, thinking about what was. It's like those last moments before you leave a place you'll never come again and wish you'd spent more time taking in your surroundings. I want to soak it all in and remember a time when my life felt different. But it's too late.
It's time to go back.
I key the button and run into the vortex.
\*\*\*
This time is different. Before when I pressed the button, I was swept into a dark tunnel with people flashing by in a blur.
Then I'm out on a lake. The sky is cloudy. Time is floating all around me. Clocks with wings float from the sky.
Where am I?
I panic. This is nothing like I've ever seen. I spin in a circle, looking for a vortex. I'm surrounded by water; it's like nothing I've ever seen.
"Hello?" My voice echoes in emptiness. There's no one around. "Hello? Is anyone out there?"
I want to run, but I have no place to go. I'm stuck in some type of dream world.
And that's when I realize I forgot to type in the date I'm traveling to.
I'm lost in time and space.
\*\*\*
The air above the lake turns wavy. The Slider vibrates in my hand. I crawl over branches that are over the lake. They shake under my weight, twigs crack and fall into the water. A sound is coming from the waves in the air. It's almost like a low hum. The signal on the Slider strengthens.
I know I'm in the right place.
I feel the air pulling me. I feel the molecules in my body pulling apart.
I see babies born and seniors die. I see accidents and floods. It's like everything is everywhere. An earthquake pancakes a town. A car drives off a cliff. A couple kisses at a wedding. I want to panic, but I can't. I need to reprogram the Slider.
Everything around me turns to a blur as I'm sucked into a tunnel.
I hear a voice scream. In front of me I see a young girl and a man. There's something about her that's familiar, like I know her. The man has her hair wrapped around his hand and is dragging her behind him. She claws at his arm and screams again. The screams ring in my ears, shooting through my temples. He stops and kicks her. They blur in and out. She looks like she's only nine year old.
He pulls her to the edge of a pit in the forest. She grabs at his arm and tries to push him away, but he's too big. He drags her to the edge of the hole in the ground and picks something up. A brick. He swings it back and hits her in the head. One hit, and that's it. She crumples. He kicks her body over the side of the pit and starts scooping up dirt to cover her up.
I want to cover my eyes to make it go away. But they are both there and not there at the same time. I want to reach through the air and grab her, to pull her away from the man.
He scoops another shovel of dirt over her body.
The Slider vibrates in my hand. It's asking for a date. I punch in the date, the force of air sucks me through the tunnel and the vortex goes black.
\*\*\*
Dr. Thompson is the first person I see. He's studying the readout on the Slider when, suddenly, I'm standing before him.
"Farrah! Thank God! I got a reading that you were lost in the vortex. I was afraid we lost another one."
I blink against the bright sun. Everyone is wearing the same clothes from when I left. I've been gone days -- but here it's only been a few hours. I look around. Everyone is here but Matt. Matt hasn't come back. He's still lost.
My heart sinks to my stomach.
"Farrah, we need you to come back to the Institute so we can capture all your memories before they start to fade. We need to know everything you saw. You are our second successful traveler. How's it feel? It's a big deal, Farrah. You're part of history right now."
How's it feel?
I don't know what to say. I just returned from saving my mother. I'm drained. I thought I would feel better, but instead I'm exhausted.
Casey comes running over and throws her arms around me, giving me a tight hug. She smells like sweat, like she's been standing under the scorching sun all day, blistering in the heat, waiting. Which I guess she has.
"I'm so glad you're back. I was so worried you'd end up like Matt and try to save your mother. You did the right thing." She squeezes again and the air gets pushed out of my lungs. "What was it like? Did you see your mother? Was everything the same?"
Dr. Thompson waves his hand in the air, a panicked wave that stops all the excitement. "We can't destroy Farrah's memories. We need to get her back to the ranch and interview her before her memories are affected by time. Hurry, everyone! Onto the bus! We need to get back."
We scurry onto the bus. I pull the goggles over my eyes. The sound of the engine roars to life and the bus takes us away.
\*\*\*
When I get back it's like Matt was never at IYD.
All of his stuff is gone and his room is empty. Casey opened his hotel door to show me. She said they called his parents and they came by to get his things. They came and erased the fact that he was ever even here.
Maybe that's the thing about pain. People become so damaged that they'll do anything to make the pain disappear.
They'll scrub themselves from the past.
I spend the next few days in a daze. The fresh memories of my mom start to fade. I grasp desperately to hold onto them, but time eases them away. The smell of her skin becomes fainter, the feel of her lips against my forehead, the way she crinkles her brow ... I lay in bed at night replaying my time with her over and over, trying to hold onto the memories.
And a part of me holds out hope that Matt will return. I'm the last person in bed at night and the first person up in the morning -- waiting for him to walk in the door. After all, I can't sleep anyway.
Everyone else makes it back through the vortex. Dr. Thompson is thrilled when Shannon returns. Fourteen out of fifteen's not bad if all you look at are the averages, and not the one out of fifteen who was lost.
The heat starts to loosen its grip on the desert and our time at IYD winds down
And Matt doesn't return.
Rick
They never checked me. Don't you think that's something they'd do? Pat me down? I mean, who knows what I brought back?
But they didn't. Instead they took me to a room and wired me up and started asking me a bunch of questions about my past and if I was able to change the day I hacked the governments computers.
I passed the test.
Because the answer is, yes, I did change my past. They just never asked if I changed it the way they wanted me to.
So I wasn't really lying. That must be why I passed. I've been certified. I have passed all the background checks. Now I'm about to be initiated into the Party.
I'll get an official uniform. I'll learn the Party's secrets. I'll be able to wear the flag pin on my lapel.
I've done everything they wanted me to. Sure, perhaps not in the exact way they wanted. But close.
Close enough.
Close enough to pass their little test and become a Party member.
It's too easy.
They have no idea what they're doing. If they did I wouldn't have been able to take the ePrivacy with me and Matt would have come back. That's what happens when you pick the best and the brightest in youth to develop into the world's next leaders.
Sometimes they're smarter than you are.
\*\*\*
All the travelling complete, the Party has fourteen potential recruits to initiate.
I overheard Dr. Thompson and Lisa talking about Matt. They're scouring the past. Searching for him.
Graduation is tonight. Mom and Dad are arriving at McCarren International Airport. The Party is flying them in on a private plane.
The business center is empty as usual. I was expecting Maria when I walk in the front door and when I'm met with a broad shouldered man dressed in black, I stop. Maria must have the day off. Today one of the security guards is sitting behind the desk.
"Rick."
His desk has a sheet with photos of all the Party trainees. I'm staring at a photo of myself taken on the first day of classes.
"Yeah," I say, and my voice wavers. I clear my throat to sound more self-assured. I am about to become an official member of the Party: the security guard works for me. "I just need to use the computer."
"Go ahead."
I take my regular spot and sweep the ePrivacy across the hard drive.
I glance at the desk. The guard at the desk is looking at something online. I can see the reflection of his screen on the window behind the desk. From here I can see it's ESPN.
The first order of business is to search for Matt Fenton's name on Google. Matt was a star athlete at North Shore High School. If he made it through the vortex and decided to stay, I'm sure there's an article.
The search results fill the screen in front of me. There are no stories on the accident. Instead I see that North Shore won the state championship. That was last year -- after the date Matt went through the vortex. I examine the photos. Matt is holding a trophy. There are cheerleaders standing in the back. And there, in the back, is a girl I recognize. The long black hair and skin the color of porcelain. It's Violet, the girl I saw in the photo Matt kept in his wallet.
The Party can't be happy about Matt's resistance because he's seen the future.
Matt looks happy in the pictures, like the world was lifted off his shoulders and he is able to live again.
I catch the security guard watching me. I wave at him; he nods and goes back to ESPN. I can still see its reflection in the window.
I log into my email and there's a message from Jonathan.
Have you been out to the site?
I know what he's referring to: Area 31. I glance back at the guard again. He appears to have forgotten I'm even in the room.
No. But I've passed the initiation. I'm being accepted into the Party this afternoon. After I'm a member I should have access to all the Party's secrets.
I hit send just as the guard stands up. I sweep the device off the back of the computer and stand up.
"Graduation is soon. I'm surprised you're down here on the computer," the guard says as he walks my direction.
I log off the computer and stand. "Yep, I'm heading back to my room to get ready."
"Must be something interesting you're working. You know you're only supposed to use Party-approved sites, right?"
"Of course."
Then he's standing in front of me, a foot taller and two feet wider. "Good, because I don't want any funny business on my watch."
He gives me a hard stare and I try not to squirm. When he doesn't make any move to leave I take a step around him. "Well, I've got to go get ready. I'll see you around." Then I leave the office and hurry back to my room.
Farrah--Kate
We made it. It's the final week and the remaining fourteen of us are being initiated into the Party. I won't be returning to LA. I'm moving to a higher floor of Winn Hotel and getting a larger room. I'll learn the Party's secrets. I'll go to Party training. I'll never be allowed out.
And I know I made the right decision, even if it means the rest of my life will be dedicated to a political party and I really don't care about politics at all. But the Party saved my mother, and for that I owe them everything.
The graduation ceremony is being held in the President's Conference Room in Winn Hotel. Our families will be allowed to attend. My dad is coming to graduation. I still don't know what happened to my mom. I can't wait to find out what happened after I left. To find out what the rest of her life was like.
We're all dressed up for the ceremony. I'm wearing the Party uniform: khaki pants and a white blouse. There's a pin of the American flag on the front. The pin is a flag with only one star. According to the Party, there's only one state.
I wait in the lobby for my classmates to come downstairs. Well, my classmates minus one -- the one that mattered to me the most.
Security is tight.
After the initiation we'll never be able to go back.
There's no way out.
Liam enters the lobby wearing a tux. I've never seen Liam in anything but his security uniform.
"Farrah, you clean up nicely. Ready for your graduation?"
I nod my head. "Yes, it will be good to see my dad and join the Party's ranks." The words feel like clay on my tongue.
Slowly my classmates come down the elevator. Once we have everyone, we follow Liam to the President's Conference Room. The only other time I've been in the conference room was when Kyle Everson had his little indiscretion. But now I've passed the test. We're becoming part of the elite. Everything will be available to us now. I thought I came here to only save my mother, but now I'm being offered a chance to join the world's leaders. I'm excited.
If Matt were here everything would be perfect.
\*\*\*
The President's Room is down a long hallway behind a heavy steel door. We approach the door and Liam punches numbers in a handheld device. The door slides open. The room is a cavern. It doubles as a bunker for the elite.
There is barely enough people in attendance to fill the room: it's far too large. Only the staff at IYD and family members are invited to attend the ceremony.
I'm sitting with my classmates, occasionally looking around the room at all their families. It's been along time since we've had contact with the outside world.
Dr. Thompson takes the podium and starts his speech. I sit in the front row as stiff as a board.
I listen carefully to his words. Even though I came to save Mom, my chest swells with pride. I'm one of them now. I'm part of the only group that matters.
I look behind me. Dad's sitting towards the back. Just like me, he's sitting straight as a board. I glance to the back of the crowd and spot a woman with blonde, flipped hair and Hollywood sunglasses. She stands in the corner, looking right at me.
Goosebumps line my skin.
It's the woman from the films -- the woman from my past. I'm sure it's her.
I can't take my eyes off of her. This woman, this ghost, from my past -- and she's here in the present. I can't believe we're in the same room.
She leans against the wall. From behind her sunglasses I feel her gaze. I can feel her looking at me, examining me. I'm so sure it's her that my heart skips a beat.
Marvin Winn takes the stage for his commencement speech. He stands behind the podium. I can barely see his head over the top. I glance over my shoulder and the woman is still there, hiding behind her Hollywood sunglasses, the sunglasses that protect her from the outside world.
Dad's sitting by himself. Dad always sits by himself. I look over my shoulder and give him a little wave. He nods his head at me. Like it would be too much to wave or to smile or to mouth congratulations.
"Dr. Thompson, members of the faculty and staff at the Institute for Youth Development, proud parents, and most of all, our esteemed students. Thank you for gathering here today so we can take this time to congratulate our students on their accomplishments and acknowledge their achievements."
I fold my hands in my lap. Casey is next to me, sitting perfectly straight, listening intently to Marvin's speech. She looks so different in the Party's uniform. All the while, I keep looking over my shoulder. I can't help it. Like the woman behind me will disappear if for even a moment I forget she's there.
"IYD's goal is to develop the future leaders of America. This year's graduates represent the best high school students today. We are here to celebrate their achievements."
Marvin goes on to say how much we've contributed to scientific research and how we'll be able to contribute to the Party. I'm filled with pride and empty at the same time. I can't stop looking at the vacant seat that Matt was supposed to occupy. The room feels like it's missing something without him.
Marvin finishes his speech and everyone claps. I look over my shoulder for the woman in the room.
And she's gone.
\*\*\*
We're each granted a diploma that's engraved in gold. After graduation everyone moves into the reception area. Tables filled with pastries dot the room. An ice sculpture stands, trying not to melt. Parents make small talk while they wait for the freshly minted Party members to enter the room. I spot Dad by himself, standing in the corner, with a bottle of beer in hand. He waves at me when he sees me. I walk over to meet him.
We don't hug.
"Good job with the program. Sounds like you had quite the summer." He extends a hand out awkwardly in an attempt to shake my hand. I feel like it's the only way he communicates with me. We're like two forces of energy circling, existing in the same place, but not connecting.
"Thanks, Dad." I look around the room. All the parents look so happy to see their kids who've been gone all summer. Siblings in the room talk excitedly. Cousins have tagged along. But here in the corner it's just Dad and I, standing awkwardly next to each other.
"So, how does it feel to be an official Party member?"
I shrug. "I can't believe I was lucky enough to be chosen for the program."
"Do you think you'll like living in Las Vegas?"
I nod my head. "The hotel is very nice. It's state of the art. I feel safe here."
He looks at the ground. He knows what I'm talking about. The world isn't the way it used to be. Everything is different now. Being a member of the Party is the only guarantee for the future.
"That's good. I'm glad coming out here over the summer was worth it then."
I spot Casey walking over to us, her parents in tow. They're exactly as I pictured: North Trek jackets, Keen shoes, natural colored hair ... Her brother is taller than her and looks like he spends his weekends hiking.
Casey hugs me.
"This is my friend Farrah."
I expect a handshake from her mom but instead she reaches out her arms and gives me a tight hug. I can't remember the last time a parental person gave me a hug. It's sad, really.
"So nice to meet you, Farrah! Casey told me wonderful things about you. Well, what she could anyway. I guess everything at IYD is super secret and you can only share so much, but what I heard is wonderful."
Dad's standing back with a pasted smile on his face. Like he wants to jump into the conversation, but doesn't know how. I decide to help him out.
"This is my dad, Bill."
"So nice to meet you, Bill." Casey's parents shake his hand and start up with small talk about summer, the weather, the stifling desert heat, and how there's no way they could spend the summer in the desert the way we did. But doing it to join the Party is worth it.
I listen and nod my head along with the words. I keep glancing over to where the woman was standing during Marvin's speech. She's not there, so I scan the crowd. She hasn't come back.
Casey's parents excuse themselves and retreat back to the food table.
"Dad, I need to use the restroom."
"Okay, dear."
Instead of heading over to mingle with the other parents, he heads back to the chair he's been sitting in all night. He takes a seat and watches all the activity going on around him. I pause for a moment, before walking out of the room.
\*\*\*
The hallway is empty, with the exception of servers in black pants and crisp white shirts running up and down the hall. Trays teeter in their hands. One wrong move and glasses will fly into the air and break on the floor.
I walk into the bathroom. Marvin Winn is all about the best details and it shows in the women's room. No expense has been spared. Marble floors reflect the light, tiled bathroom counters. Classical music floats in the air. I hear a swoosh that makes me jump and the smell of freshener fills the air. Hand towels are neatly folded in a basket.
I sit down on an over-filled couch and my mind replays the summer. Nine years ago I changed Mom's fate.
I wonder about the woman at the ceremony with the blonde hair, hiding behind the sunglasses that are an all-too-familiar memory in my mind.
I want to find her.
The hallways are still empty. I hear voices from the conference room. The words linger in the air -- people talking over each other -- sentences forgotten as soon as they are heard. A server rushes by and brushes his tray against my arm. For a moment the glasses wobble, and I'm afraid they're going to fall. But they regain their composure and the server hurries away.
My shoes click and echo on the polished marble floors as I walk back down the hallway. I look through open doors, in windows, searching for the woman. For once the halls are devoid of security. They're all in the President's Room -- where I'm supposed to be.
The hall turns and I find myself heading out back of the casino. The door is propped open just slightly. I gently open it and squeeze through.
Air whooshes out the door as I step outside: it's the air conditioning, sending a blast of cold air into the hot, dry day. I squint my eyes against the sun and look around. Security guards patrol the front of the hotel. No one pays me any attention at all.
They're completely unaware that inside the hotel are the world's first time travelers and future Party members. So much has changed. The ability to go back to the past opens so many possibilities.
And it's why I'm standing outside in the heat when I should be standing inside.
I'm looking for my mother.
But she's not out here. I look in all directions, searching ... and nothing. There are only guards and a few delivery people out here.
I head back inside.
A couple of servers are speaking in the hallway. One looks at me and smiles. I smile back, aware that I should be at the reception. I walk past them like I know where I'm going. Like I'm not a student from IYD walking around where she shouldn't.
Down the hall leads to the casino. I exit and look around. Vacationers dump money into the casino machines. I walk fast down the aisle, my eyes darting around, looking for the woman that looked so much like the person I know.
And I have to hurry or I know someone will come looking for me. I pick up my pace and walk past the restaurants, the shops. I circle the casino. And still, she's not here. It's like she's disappeared into thin air -- and I'm too aware that I've been gone twenty minutes. I have to go back; my dad will come out looking for me any minute and I don't want him to think I deserted him.
I walk back to the reception area. And that's when I spot her, standing outside the door, holding a cigarette. She's small and her sunglasses nearly cover her entire face. She's the only person I've seen wearing sunglasses inside.
I approach her and she smiles when she sees me coming.
"Congratulations." The cigarette flicks ashes from her loosely held fingers.
"Thanks."
"It's quite an accomplishment, Farrah. You should be so proud."
"Mom?" The words barely squeak out of my mouth.
"Who else would it be?"
She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. Her face has lines I've never seen before. She's here but I have no idea what she's been doing the last nine years. Dr. Thompson didn't say it would be like this. Everything changed -- but I don't know what has happened in those nine years.
She reaches over and gives me a hug. I hug back. She smells like cigarette smoke. Her body is like a skeleton. It looks like the last nine years haven't been good to her, not any better than the years before.
"I'm so glad you came," I whisper. Tears drip down my face.
"Of course I came. I wouldn't miss this for anything. No matter what your dad says about me or what this political party you want to join thinks of me, I'd never miss your graduation. Even if they tried to keep me away, I'd never miss it."
I nod my head. I have no idea what to say. I can't stop staring at her, examining her features, looking for familiar expressions.
There's so much I want to say but I'm afraid to say anything.
I feel like I should go back inside, but I can't stop staring at her, searching for what her life has been like.
And neither of us knows what to say.
The door swings open and Liam pokes his head out. "Farrah! There you are! We've been looking for you. We need you to come back inside. Marvin is about to do his farewell toast."
"Okay."
Her cigarette burns to the end and she seems to remember it for the first time. "Well then ..."
I reach over and hug her one more time. I squeeze her so tight it's almost like she could break.
"Farrah! You need to come back in here!"
I turn to Mom. "I better go."
"Okay, dear. Good luck."
I walk to the door and when I turn to look over my shoulder, she's gone.
Rick
After graduation we move up two floors. I'm wearing khaki pants and a jacket with a flag pin in the pocket.
And I have a computer in my room.
Of course it has all the firewalls as the ones in the business center. But it also has greater access. I can read Party memos.
The opposition has grown since we came to IYD. Now that I have access to the news, I can see what's happening on the outside. More people are being moving into the ghettos. Cities and suburbs are being emptied out. The Party controls all the resources.
Some of the opposition was killed during an uprising.
President Everson is trying to be elected into power. The public was forgiving of his liaison with his intern. He promised to save the US from recession with his massive wealth. But conservatives are disgusted with his behavior. It's why the Party needs perfect specimens. They have to stay in control.
I don't need the access now. Everything is fine ... now. I've been included. As long as they don't do anything to make me feel like an outsider, I'm fine.
I can see the opposition from my room. They're building outside. There are tanks outside again. The Party brought them in to protect the hotel. It's resources.
Violence is building on the outside.
But I have nothing to worry about.
I'm an insider now.
And being an insider comes with access.
\*\*\*
We go from being trainees to being junior Party members. Going forward we wear the Party uniform. Slowly, surely, we're introduced to the Party's secrets. We're the first successful graduating class. Last year after Norris Chen disappeared that class was disbanded. I heard a rumor their memories were erased.
The Monday after graduation we're instructed to meet in the President's Room. I'm there first, at 7 AM. There's a banquet of bagels, muffins, scrambled eggs, and fruit. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and grab a bagel. Casey and Marcus enter next, followed by several others. Farrah is the last to arrive. She looks so different in the Party uniform with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Security guards stand along the wall. They're watching us. They still don't trust us, and they shouldn't. After all, there's no way they can be certain.
We sit around the table and the murmur of nervous conversation fills the room. No one knows what comes next.
The door opens, filtering a beam of daylight in before it swings shut again. Lisa, Dr. Thompson, and Liam enter the room, each wearing their normal outfit: Lisa in her copycat lab coat, Dr. Thompson in his real lab coat, and Liam in his black security suit.
"Good morning," Lisa says. She pastes her fake smile on her face. The usual smudge of red lipstick blemishes her front teeth. "Welcome. You may have thought that the hard part was the last six weeks you went through as part of your initiation into the Party. Trust me --" she makes eye contact for each of us in the room: "the hard part is just beginning."
Dr. Thompson stands alongside her and gives us a welcoming smile. The room has a different feeling, like we're insiders now, like everything has changed.
"We're taking you to a new facility today. It's what we've been working on as part of the scientific developmental process for the Party. This morning we'll enjoy breakfast and we'll have you sign consent forms. At 9:00 we'll get on the bus and head out to where you'll be spending the rest of your training as you learn everything you need to know to become a member of the Party."
Lisa places a thick case on the table and dials in the combination. The case pops open and she takes out a stack of paper and pens, which she passes around the room.
Confidentiality Agreement
Welcome to the Party.
As a Party member you will hereby be granted access to confidential Party secrets. You will not share this information with anyone who is not an approved Party member. Failure to obey the Party's rules is considered treason and is punishable by life in prison or even death.
Sign: \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
Date: \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
Death.
That doesn't surprise me. I know what they're hiding.
I sign the confidentiality agreement and wait for time to pull me forward.
\*\*\*
Today there are no goggles. Now that we're members of the Party we won't be returning to the general population. I take a seat directly behind Liam on the bus. I don't want to miss anything.
The bus heads out of town, but we're not headed out to IYD. Once we're out of town, the traffic thins out. We drive through what people in the southwest consider mountains, but they are really just tall hills. The bus's engine hums its way down the road. Voices whisper around me. A few brought iPods to listen to music. I take in the sights. The surroundings start to look familiar. I recognize the salt flats we pass. We stop in the middle of the desert. I look around and see nothing. It's just like IYD. No tents, no tanks, no armed guards. This can't be right. This isn't what I've been watching over the satellite feed.
What if I've made a mistake?
Dr. Thompson stands up. "We're getting closer. We need to retrofit the bus to go any farther. Hold on, we'll be continuing forward in just a moment."
We all look around at each other, a few worried faces in the group. I spot Farrah with her face against the window, looking off in the distance.
Suddenly, the bus starts making a crunching noise. The bus bounces. I grab the seat to hold on. Liam and Dr. Thompson sit in front of me. Whereas the fourteen of us in the back look nervous, neither of those two even blink. First the front of the bus goes into the air, and then the back. A voice behind me screams. Then we're sitting about two feet higher. When the noise is over, Dr. Thompson stands back up.
"That was nothing to worry about, it was just the bus retrofitting itself to four-wheel-drive. We're going off the road."
The bus lurches forward and the bumps start. We're driving on makeshift dirt tracks. It's not a road. I guess it's not supposed to be -- for a lot of reasons, I'm sure.
We drive around the salt flats. By the look of the sun it appears we're heading south. A small canyon appears in the distance. The canyon is familiar. I remember seeing it in the satellite photos.
We round a bend and crest a small hill. The bus drops down and a tent appears in the distance. It's the tent from the satellite photos. It's surrounded by tanks.
\*\*\*
Men with assault rifles dressed in the same familiar uniform as Liam stand outside. The bus pulls up to the gate and two security guards board the bus. The men are a good foot taller than me. Their shoulders are wide, their muscles rippling under their clothes. They walk up and down the aisle of the bus. The first guard gives us each a sharp look while the second holds a device in his hand. The device has a green light on the screen. At no point does he look up from it. As he walks, it lets out beeps. The two walk to the end of the bus, pause, and walk back to the front.
"It's all clear," security guard one speaks into something that looks like a walkie talkie. Then he turns to Liam. "You're clear to go in." They step off the bus and wave the driver through.
The bus pulls into the heavily guarded area and drives towards a lot populated by what look to be military vehicles.
I know Jonathan's going to be so jealous. I'm sitting on the far edge of my seat, staring out the window. The tent is huge. It must be the length of four football fields. It goes forever. The driver stops the bus and the air conditioning stops. I know we won't stay on the bus long without air.
"Team, follow me. We're going to enter through the front entrance. Each of you will get an eye scan when we walk into the tent. Remember to keep your badges visible. Everyone inside the Party Research Institute must have on a visible badge at all times."
We follow Liam off the bus. He walks towards the tent and we follow behind. I feel someone edge closer to my right. It's Farrah. She looks nervous, but she doesn't say anything.
I'm sure she wishes I was Matt, but I guess I'll have to do.
Finally, she speaks. "What is this place?" Her voice is so quiet I can barely make out the words. "Where are we?"
"It's the Party's secret research institute," I whisper back. I'm not sure if what I said was exactly right, but it's the best I can come up with.
"What do they do here?"
We walk up to the entrance and are met by more security guards. "We're about to find out."
Two guards stand alongside a body scanner. It looks like one of the scanners you walk through at the airport.
"One at a time please," says a woman in a white lab coat. She has dark hair and holds an electronic tablet in her hand. She doesn't look at us when she speaks.
"Go ahead, Rick, you always like being the first."
I step through the scanner. The woman watches the device she holds in her hand.
"You can stand over there." She points to the wall.
After we've gone through the scanner Liam walks up to the entrance of what looks like an airport tunnel. Massive air vents blow cold air on us from above. It's hard to hear anything above the noise they make.
"Follow me."
The walls of the tunnel are lit with the same low lighting as the hallways at IYD. Along the walls are hieroglyphics; they start with gladiators fighting in the coliseum, and move towards kings and queens sitting on thrones. There are hieroglyphics of our country going to war and the Apollo missions.
Then there's something else. I pause at the sight of what looks like a football shaped ship hovering over farm country. It looks like it's paused above the ground, as if it's examining its surroundings. The country is familiar. It's a place I've been before: I recognize the familiar road and the leaning barn in the back. It's Ronald Dunn's farm, my grandpa's long time neighbor.
And it looks exactly how Grandpa described.
"Rick?" It's Farrah. She's standing about five feet away, examining me. Everyone else has moved ahead. "Are you coming? We're almost there."
I take one last look at the ship and then follow Farrah down to the end of the hall.
\*\*\*
The end of the hall is closed off with a huge metal door, just like the one that leads into the IYD classroom. We wait outside. Beside the door is a metal box: Liam places his face against it. A laser scans his eye.
"Liam Woodman, head of security," an electronic voice announces. "Visitor approved. Please stand back."
Liam moves away from the door and it spins in a circle. The spinning gets faster and faster, blowing a breeze into our faces.
And then it disappears.
"Please come in, we only have twenty seconds."
Liam steps through the door first and we trot in after him. Like a good little herd.
The room opens up into a giant hangar. Men that are three feet tall, wearing lab coats like Dr. Thompson's, rush around the room. Only they're not really men. There's something different about them, and when one turns around and looks at me I jump.
Its face is round and smooth, the eyes are like little black pinpricks and its lips are bright red. It tilts its eyes at me and appears to be examining me with the same intensity as I examine it. On its chest is a computer readout. For a moment, numbers spin in a whirlwind, before settling and flashing green. The being nods its head and walks away.
"What was that?" Marcus whispers behind me.
And then I look up and see it, what I've been looking for my whole life. The miniature men are buzzing around it, like little mechanics to make sure it stays in order. I catch my breath. It's what I've been looking for since Grandpa told me the story while I was still at Fruitland Elementary School.
My mouth drops open. In the middle of the room is a football shape machine. It's about twenty-five yards wide and smooth in texture. It glows softly, pale green. And it's humming.
Liam examines the group with a smile on his face. "Yes, you're seeing what you think you're seeing. It's a spaceship. The ship was captured by the government ten years ago over Washington State. It holds many amazing scientific secrets. Some of the technology from the ship was harnessed for the creation of the Slider."
I stand behind a rope that surrounds the ship. It appears only the small beings are allowed inside the rope and that it takes all their energy to keep the ship's energy running.
I'm exactly where I want to be standing in front of the secrets of the Universe. There's so much I want to know. The place I'm standing now has made everything I've sacrificed worth it.
One of the creatures working on the ship makes eye contact with me. The word "help" rings in my ears. They can communicate with me, undetected. I nod my head. I need them to know I'm here to help.
The creature goes back to the ship. Liam waves us over and I walk over to where he's standing.
I have so much work to do. My mind turns over the possibilities.
Matt
The Paradox
A Situation That Contradicts Itself
Dr. Thompson was wrong about one law of Winn Theory. He hypothesized that if you changed your past and chose not to come back, you would have no recollection of what occurred.
That's where he was wrong.
I remember everything about the Party. Even though they haven't come into power yet. It's starting. And I know it will happen.
And since I know what will happen, I feel like I have to make it stop.
The Party is trying to brainwash everyone. To make everyone think they know what is best.
But I know better.
I don't tell anyone about what happened. I'm so afraid that if I let on then fate will come looking for me. Or that I'll wake up one morning and Violet will be gone.
So, I just pretend like I've been here the whole time. Like nothing changed. Like Violet was always okay, that on some plane of existence in the universe she hadn't been killed in a car accident on a night when I had been chugging cheap beer from red cups out of a keg. I'm sure, somewhere out there, I'm living another life. One where Violet is six feet underground and her mom and my mom are no longer friends and I'm playing football for the Party, wanting to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger.
But I'm not an expert in Physics and I have no idea how to get to that place. And even if I were, I wouldn't want to.
Violet and I aren't together anymore. A few weeks after I came back we started drifting apart. Drifting in a way you do when you graduate from high school and you have your whole life ahead of you.
Your whole life.
And I'm okay with it, really. Because all I wanted for her was a chance, a chance for a career and a husband and kids and a dog, a white wedding dress to wear down the aisle. Everything she ever wanted is hers for the taking. All she has to do is take it.
I see her around school. We don't talk. She nods at me the way people acknowledge someone that they maybe feel too strong about to do anything more. Part of me wants to hug her every time I see her. To tell her I'm so glad she's okay. But I don't. That would be just too weird, I guess.
But I'm glad she's happy.
My mom's doing great. She's all excited that Violet's sister's having a baby. Mom's helping Violet's mom plan the baby shower. My mom lives for that kind of stuff. She never had a daughter, so she gets her fix through her friends.
I watch the news. Politically the US is falling apart. The Democrats and Republicans can't agree on anything. The financial system is crumbling. It's the perfect chance for a new party to come into power. The Party. I need to find a way to make it stop. Nothing good happens once the Party is in power.
But for now, I'm fine. I'm doing great. Jimbo-dandy, like my dad would say. I hurt my knee playing football and I'm out for the rest of the season. Everyone keeps thinking I should be more upset than I am. Like the worst thing that could happen to a guy is to hurt his knee the first year of college ball.
I can guarantee everyone that being sidelined from the football field is definitely not the worst.
And like the best thing that could happen to a person is being the star, running back at UCLA.
No.
The best thing that could happen to a person is getting a second chance.
\*\*\*
I'm at home watching the news. The Party hasn't started taking over broadcast stations and cable TV yet. The very last of the journalistic news channels, they're reporting on the last election. President Everson won. He ran as a member of the Party.
They're coming into power now. It's starting. A few of the ghettos have been developed. The working class is moving into 250 square foot apartments they'll call home.
The Party didn't plan on me staying in the past and remembering what happens in the future.
They didn't count on the fact I didn't want to be a member of the Party at all.
They don't know I'm the person who wants to stop them from taking power.
Now that's Violet safe, I have my eye on stopping the Party's ascent.
#
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