Something Of A Kind

by Wheeler, Miranda

  “It sounds impossible,” Aly commented, confused and disbelieving.

  These people do this for a living with no luck. It came so easily for us. “Nah, it’s easier because we’re trained. Like, you can't just cast a footprint– you have to splatter cast it, which distributes the weight so it doesn’t dilute or disturb the original shape, which is so important. Plus, we’re hooked up with the best. We have H.D. – high definition, I.R. – infrared, refractory, digital, and stealth cams, audio recorders, shotgun microphones… all sorts of stuff. We get closer all the time. We’ve coordinated with a myriad of other researchers in all corners of the world.” Rowley’s eyes sparkled from behind his boxy glasses, his skinny arms waving in excitement. “There’s a staggering amount of encounters. Did you know even Jane Goodall was interested, even believing, in the species?”

  Why haven’t they found it, too? This is so bizarre.

  “Why don’t more people know about it then?” “It’s denounced as myth without looking at the evidence most of the time, unfortunately. I think a lot of credible researchers shy away from our work because it leads to tarnished names so quickly, leaving the entire theory unchallenged beyond the ancient alien theorist distortions.” He winced. “They just kill us sometimes. Well, figuratively.”

  “Even here though, where everyone’s supposed to be looki ng for evidence, it seems like half the people here don’t even buy it.” She bit her lip, remembering the fragments she had overheard.

  “It’s not that they don’t believe, although it’s not the world I’d use – more like, it’s like… knowing, it’s that they don’t believe you,” Rowley offered apologetically. “You’d think that dedicating their careers to this would make them inclined to put more thought than external factors into the mix.”

  “Right,” Aly said, “My dad.” “No offense, Alyson, but everyone pretty much hates him,” Rowley confessed, quickly adding, “Sorry.” A laugh burst from her chest, alleviating the tension in her shoulders for a moment. His face twisted with concern, unsure whether to alter his statement. She waved off his silent concerns. “Honestly? You have no idea how literal ‘everyone’ is.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” He scratched his head. “It’s slander. I was trying to convey that whatever issue everyone has, you’re not the problem.”

  “Well, thank you, Rowley. That makes me feel better.” “I’ve got to say, if this is what you think it is, it’s really amazing. This could change everything. If you’re… serious, I guess, you should fight for this.”

  “You mean if I’m telling the truth, I should press my story?” She raised her brow, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. He nodded, sheepish. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “I think Adam’s waiting for you in the hall.” He cupped one hand to block the other, pointing through his palm at the swish of people through the double-doors to the left.

  “Rowley Banes!” a woman’s voice, shrill and pitching, echoed through the lobby. He froze, offering an expression of mock-horror. Stepping backwards, slowly with dramatic leg lifts, he looked like an actor from a silent movie. His face twisted into an outlandish expression. She covered her lips with widespread fingers as though it covered her giggles as he winked, spinning on his heel to disappear through the door of the men’s bathroom. His name kept ringing through the halls until a pretty Asian girl ran through, awkwardly sliding around in oversized tan flats. She flashed Aly a look of desperation. With her clipboard tucked under her arm, she disappeared in the room after him, ignoring the metallic sign announcing gender-specifics.

  Unsure if she could control her laughter if Rowley ended up dragged out by the ear, Aly headed towards the hallway where she’d seen the doctors go through. Both doors were propped open with wooden wedges. A man and a woman dressed in frumpy work attire sat in close proximity. Their voices traveled, too loud for their lifeless expressions.

  Feigning patience, Aly waited in the doorway. “The report holds: distinct saginal crest, approximately between eight feet and eight and a half feet tall, blurred motion, visible eyeshine,” his voice was monotone.

  “Seems feasible.” “It could’ve been a deer,” Adam offered. “Distinct saginal crest, eight-foot? Hardly,” the woman scoffed. “There was a statement issued claiming reports consistent hold reason to believe the eyes have cones, similar to canines, that assist in night seeing for nocturnal behaviors.”

  “Was that another forum comment, an anonymous tip, a theory…? Or was it actually, specifically circulated by the B.F.R.O. this time?” He snickered.

  “Irrelevant,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders. “Maggie,” he stated. She balled her fists, resting them on her hips. As he nodded towards the door, Maggie swiveled around. Aly realized he wasn’t reprimanding his partner, but instead announcing her presence.

  Maggie stood briskly, smoothing the fabric of her tan slacks and extending a hand. As she moved, bleached wisps fell from the redheaded bun knotted at the nape of her neck. Aly accepted the shake. The grip was too firm, as painful as the woman’s strained expression. Maggie’s dragon-clawed nails left deep imprints in Aly palm.

  “You must be Gregory’s daughter,” Adam offered, smiling tightly. When Aly stepped forward to enter the room, his head cocked to the side. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

  She leveled her gaze with his. He blanched.

  It’s always in the eyes. “Take a seat, Miss Glass. I’m Doctor Margaret Stone, this is Doctor Adam Birnbaum,” Maggie presented, her chest inflating with confidence at their titles, the only waver in the monotone.

  “I’d introduce myself, but it seems unnecessary,” Aly said, carefully selecting each word. With the woman’s arm still outstretched, she took the seat across from them. Despite the hardwood chairs and red accents, the room seemed like it belonged with a criminal investigation. She felt like she was an eye-witness to a homicide rather than an animal sighting. With the look of death in Maggie’s eyes, perhaps a suspect would be more fitting.

  Aly forced a smile, her chin rising through the intimidation. “I understand you have questions.” The doctors turned to each other nervously, sharing a curt nod. Rather than relaxing, Maggie began to pace and Adam stiffened. Anxiety crawled up Aly’s spine. She leaned back in her chair, away from the table. Manila folders were slathered across like background checks, filled with evidence she thought would be received joyously.

  I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve got to stay calm. Instead of acceptance, she was being questioned. Noah’s hesitation and Luke and Owen’s refusal made sense with epiphany- level clarity. It reminded her of a childhood punishment, where her mother jerked her chin up with two fingers and demanded, ‘Are we clear?’

  Crystal.

  In speaking, Aly open the floodgates. “We have to be extremely selective in what we deem worthy of investigation, nonetheless what we file as a legitimate claim.” Maggie’s voice was tight.

  “You have to understand that encounters like this are extremely rare, and from our research, the location seems near impossible,” Adam frowned. “Not only does the likelihood of a hoax appear to be incredibly high, seeing as the information here”

  “Frankly, it’s too good to be true,” Maggie interrupted. “That is often the biggest concern in our field. The Patterson-film argument has been rolling under that argument since it was released. Which is to say, it’s perplexing how you can suddenly offer so much… insight. Multiple witnesses, all children of well-versed natives or specialists, with an eerily consistent story, collecting more evidence than most in the field can collect in weeks – sometimes more than what’s uncovered in entire expeditions and reporting it immediately after the sighting with nearly intact record?”

  “That’s a lot of stars falling into place,” Adam continued. “You also have to consider that reporting it in one of the only areas we don’t investigate isn’t only convenient, it’s unlikely. From our decades-old research, we have a basic understanding of the species, and in an area wi
th such little resources – the ecosystem doesn’t fit.”

  “They pull bears out of dumpsters in the midd le of the city, and you’ve already ruled that the environment doesn’t fit?” Aly offered, her voice high. Her nails dug into her elbows. She hadn’t realized her clasped hands had flexed into crossed arms. It was standoffish and abrasive, mirroring their passive aggressive monotones. Too calm, almost airily, she murmured, “Unbelievable.”

  They’re just like my father – trying to make me feel crazy. “We’re not saying it’s impossible, we’re not even saying you children are lying,” Adam continued. “We haven’t even factored in the plentiful abundance of natural factors that could explain it.”

  “The plentiful abundance,” Aly repeated offering an unimpressed stare. Adam swallowed, pulling at his turtle neck. Fidgeting, he straightened, folding his hands on the table. Maggie paced behind him.

  “We take our jobs seriously, Alyson,” Maggie suggested. Warnings and implications rolled from her paper thin lips. “Just think about that for a second.”

  I can’t get mad. Just breath.

  “I don’t need to do anymore thinking,” Aly clarified. “Unless you’re seeking recollection.”

  “We’d appreciate it if you would recollect a little harder.” I don’t really see how trying to be helpful warrants scolding from two strangers. If they think I need a parent, mine should be outside somewhere.

  She bit her tongue.

  “Ask away,” Aly replied.

  Maggie glared.

  “All right,” Adam cleared his throat, motioning towards her. “Why do you think your evidence is real?”

  Aly quirked a brow. “That’s your job, right? To find out if he’s real?”

  “We’re attempting,” he said flatly. “Let me paraphrase. Why should we spend our time investigating your case?”

  “Let me paraphrase,” Aly repeated, “You want me to justify to you why you should believe me.”

  “Inevitably,” Adam confessed. “It’s suspicious.” “You could start by ex plaining why I need to defend myself to you. All I did was make a report. It’s a wonder you get anywhere with this research, choking the life out of everyone who offers you anything. Except, of course, you don’t, because Greg’s my long-lostfather who everyone hates. I get it, okay?” She groaned, burying her face in her hands. Look up suddenly, she tucked a curl behind her ear. “You guys have forensic scientists and everything, right?”

  Maggie had stopped pacing. Both stared.

  I guess I’ve effectively name-dropped. “Those kind of tests…” Adam faltered. “That’s asking our limited budget to dish over hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars. It’s asking a lot.”

  “There’s lie detectors and image specialists,” she pressed. “Why don’t you have that on-staff if you’re such an authority?”

  “How would you know about any of that?” Maggie demanded. “My mom worked late shifts before she died. When your options are between N.C.I.S. or Paid Programming, you make difficult choices. I’m also well-versed with the Cooking Network, now can we get on with it?”

  “Right,” Adam muttered.

  Aly couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable with the big D, or moving off topic. He seemed uncomfortable with her in general. “That’s why you’re with Gregory?” Maggie blurted. Her jaw was in danger of hitting the floor. Aly bit her lip, looking at her hands. She didn’t want to know what her father had been claiming.

  “Yeah,” she sneered, unable to make contact. Pain was eating at her chest. “Want a DNA test too? Unless, of course, that would bleed the bank.”

  “She didn’t mean anything by it,” Adam sighed, pitching the bridge of his nose. Aly wasn’t sure who he was placating, but silence wedged into the conversation. The tapping of Maggie’s heels as she resumed pacing bounced off the walls. She realized it had never been an interview, but an interrogation. With her patience thinning, Aly smirked at the thought of making it a crime scene.

  “Do you even believe they’re out there?” she asked finally, shooing the elephant from the room. They exchanged glances, surprise carved into their faces.

  Adam said, “We know they exist. What we don’t know is if your experience is legitimate.” “Rowley told me all about your technology when I was outside. I know that if you wanted to, you could stop wasting your time looking for a confession and utilize the photographs.”

  “You do realize that claiming to know a lot about this is draining your credibility down to nothing, right?” Maggie spat.

  “Do you realize insinuating I’m a know-itall isn’t going to make me say I’m lying, right?” Aly retorted, anger welling in her chest. “Your father is the head of this sector, and you’re a child – his child. What foundation do you have for these claims? Why are you pushing this? I’m trying to keep you from embarrassing Greg,” Maggie demanded.

  “Why does this have anything to do with my father?” Aly hissed. “He doesn’t own more than a thought in my entire day.”

  “You’re lucky, then. I-” “There’s no basis for you to decide he affects anything about me or influences any part of me,” Aly continued, seething. “Whatever your obsessive personal vendetta, it’s unwarranted. I’m here to assist with a research project on an animal, and you’re acting like I’ve personally crossed you. It’s totally juvenile.”

  “You’re just like him,” Maggie stammered, disbelieving. Aly knew her mother would have a thousand clever things to say at that moment, but she had run dry. If Noah was at her side, she would feel safe. But Noah was home, doing his duty to the family that existed in his life long before she did, and like with everyone else, she had asked a lot. Instead of Noah’s comfort or Vanessa’s guidance, Aly went from a blind-spot to snow-blind, from inside to locked in, every edge rough, every end loose, every side vulnerable.

  Aly offered, “What use do I hav e of him? What point would there be to make here? He’s a stranger. He’s made it clear I’m nothing to him.”

  “I believe that,” Maggie swallowed.

  “I’ll bet you do.”

  Maggie shrunk back. Adam froze. Aly felt the seam – whichever piece it was inside the woman that was unraveling. Her father had left a mark on Doctor Margaret Stone. She thought of Vanessa.

  That makes three of us.

  “Manipulative,” Maggie whispered. “I can only imagine what your mother was like.” Aly didn’t care if the woman wanted to drag her fa ther through a field of glass or spit a thousand venomous insults in her face, but the doctor had approached one of two people she had no right to touch.

  Past tense.

  Your mother was. Maggie had found her way into Aly, beneath her skin, – charring her wounds, blackening her lips. Her calm disintegrated to ash.

  It hurt.

  “You know nothing of my mother,” Aly enlightened, eyes narrowed, voice low. “You are nothing compared to my mother.”

  “So you think,” Maggie said.

  “He loved her,” Aly lied. The last one hurt them both.

  ~

  After the interview, a small blonde man with a shuffling gait retrieved her from the room. After having her sign an official witness transcript on his clipboard, he led her to Greg’s office. Her hands were folded behind her back as she analyzed his space, moving around the room.

  A flat screen was placed between tall bookshelves that covered the room, except for a large window with the panels to a heating and cooling system and a vertical column of framed awards, degrees, and diplomas. He had a curved desk in the center, his chair stationed in the elbow. One end was weighted down with papers, a printer, pencil stands, an adjustable lamp – while the other was barren, except for his laptop and his gangly arms. There were no pictures.

  This place looks like it belongs to a CEO. No wonder he’s always here.

  “So,” she mused, “Any other haphazard teenage daughters I don’t know about?”

  He scratched his head, brow furrowing. “Not that I’m aware of. Why are you asking?” “
I just figured, considering Docto r-Margaret-Whatever acts like you broke her heart, called her fat, kicked her dog, and lit her house on fire.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Most people don’t find that kind of imagination charming.” Aly shrugged. “I’m not most people. So, what’d you do? Abandon her and your unborn child in your rent-due apartment with only a message saying ‘you’ll figure it out, looks like we made our choices’? Or just deport her grandparents and leave her in the woods for the New‘Squatcher-HazeWeek?”

  “That’s a lot. I mean, you're being a little… intense.” He scratched his beard, carefully selecting his words. He stood as he spoke, gesturing for her to follow him. As they left the room, he shut the lights off and locked the door. Ignoring everyone who nodded or stared whenthey passed, he didn’t stop until they sat along the chairs in the front lobby. Suspicious, Aly sat.

  Quietly, he continued, “I'm not exactly sure what your mother has said.”

  “You left us. What was there to say? She said you worked, but I was her job – notexactly profound, but fair enough.”

  “Alyson, she had the opportunity to come with me. She didn't want to.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He sat, removing his cap and rubbing its red impression on his forehead. “I was researching at a local university. Just before she was impregnated with it, I transferred to Albany, and was commuting. I don't know if you're really old enough to understand this now, but that distance... it drove a wedge, and when I got a major opportunity just outside of Ketchikan, she didn't want to come. She hated my work. She thought I was ridiculous. Vanessa told me to go.”

  Impregnated with it. There it was. Years of abandonment, desperate for a proper father to return and complete a hole-ridden family, and that's what she was. An it, something impregnated. He spoke like it was a dirty word, a foreign cuss that didn't sit well in his mouth. He never considered leaving a child, or a wife. He ran across the world, and thinks he was left by a woman who didn't respect him.