314 wt-1

by A. R. Wise

“Yeah, sure,” said Jacker.

  “That’s basically the same thing as Chaos Magick. It’s the idea that if you focus on one thing, you can make it a reality. I never studied up on it, but my mother was obsessed with it. She said that we had to come up with a symbol that we could focus on that was tied to the day Ben disappeared. She started with his name, and would write it on slips of paper that she would hide all over the house, but when that didn’t work she decided to try the date.”

  “March 14th?” asked Paul.

  Alma nodded and took her ring off. “To be more specific, 314.” She held the ring up to show to them. “3.14 is also the number for pi, the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter.”

  “Uh oh,” said Paul as he made a goofy grin. “We’re not getting into math, are we? Because I suck at that.”

  Alma shook her head and offered a grin. “No, not exactly. The reason it was important is because the date that my brother disappeared was also a symbol; the symbol for pi. In Chaos Magick, you’re supposed to choose a symbol that you can focus on to help force everything else out of your mind. My mother started writing 314 on everything, and then switched to the symbol for pi. She would force me to stare at it for what felt like hours at a time.”

  “Wow,” said Jacker. “You had some nutball parents.”

  “Well, the crazy thing is that it kind of worked.”

  Both Jacker and Paul sat forward in anticipation of what Alma was going to say next.

  “My mother found a scrap of paper that my father had written the cabin’s address on. She took me back to Widowsfield, to the cabin, and forced me to stare at the symbol. She kept asking about what happened, but I couldn’t remember anything. And you know how I was saying that I’d forgotten about Ben?”

  Paul and Jacker nodded.

  “That was still the case. I couldn’t remember anything about him except for what I saw in pictures. It was as if he’d never existed except for how my mother could prove that he did. It was in Widowsfield, when my mother was forcing me to look at the symbol for pi that I suddenly remembered who Ben was. I remember it so clearly. I was standing in the kitchen, and my mother had drawn the symbol on the kitchen floor and circled it with candles. She made me sit there and stare at it while I hummed a tune. Then, suddenly, everything came flooding back. It was the most intense and terrifying moment of my life. I can’t even explain what it was like. One minute I had no brother, and the next I was feeling such terror and grief over his loss. It was overwhelming.”

  “That’s so creepy.” Jacker had moved forward to the edge of his seat and was listening to Alma intently.

  “It was like my brother was born and died all at the same time. I experienced the emotions of having a sibling all at once. After that, I told my mother everything I could remember about our trips to Widowsfield.” Alma sadly shook her head and stared at her mother’s ring. “It wasn’t long after that,” Alma closed her eyes and forced herself to finish the sentence, “she killed herself.”

  “Oh crap, Alma,” said Jacker. “I’m so sorry.” The big man seemed uncomfortable and uncertain how to respond. “I know we just met, but can I give you a hug? I feel like you need a big bear hug.”

  Alma laughed as her eyes filled with tears. Then she nodded and stood up to accept Jacker’s kindness. He wrapped his arms around her and she tried to do the same to him, although he was too big for her hands to touch behind his back. He started with a soft hug, but then lifted her off the ground and squeezed her in a tight embrace. “You’ve got Paul to take care of you, kid. And I know how much you mean to him, so I’ll be there for you too if you need me. Okay?”

  “Sure, thanks,” said Alma as Jacker set her back down.

  Paul took her hand as she sat back down. “Thanks for telling us.”

  “Thanks for listening,” she said. “It feels good to talk about it. I need to figure out what happened. It’s been too long. I need to know what happened to Ben.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?” asked Paul.

  Alma got up and went to the counter to get Rachel’s business card. She brought it back to the living room and handed it to Paul. “The reporter that interviewed me is going to Widowsfield today. She wanted me to go with her, which is why my father showed back up again.”

  “How did he know?” asked Paul.

  “They contacted him first, to see if he’d be willing to go on camera and talk about what happened. He followed them here, which is how he found me. He’s desperate to keep me from going back to Widowsfield, which is exactly why I have to go.”

  “Why do they want you to go?” asked Paul as he looked at the card.

  “They’re doing a story on the disappearances in Widowsfield for their website. They wanted me to go back there with them and talk about what happened.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Paul.

  Alma responded as if he were joking. “No, not at all, but I’ve been trying to avoid this for years. I can’t keep hiding from it, and maybe this is the best way to force myself to confront it.”

  “Yeah, but on camera?” asked Paul. “Why don’t you let me take you there? We can do whatever you need to do by ourselves instead of with some strangers.”

  Alma considered the offer, but was already set on her course. “I know it sounds insane, but I’ve been hiding this for so long; I think the best solution is just to fling the doors open on it as wide as I can. Does that make sense?”

  Paul shook his head. “Nope.”

  “I get it,” said Jacker. “You want to force yourself to be honest. I can respect that.”

  “I think you should be careful,” said Paul as he offered the card back to Alma. “I wouldn’t trust these people at all.”

  “Then come with me,” said Alma as she took the card.

  “All you’ve got to do is ask,” said Paul.

  “I’m asking,” said Alma. “Come with me to Widowsfield. We can go with these guys, and tell them that we’ve got final say on what footage they use. You can help me try and figure all of this out.”

  “Are you scared?” asked Jacker. Alma didn’t answer immediately and Jacker elaborated what he meant. “I’d be scared out of my mind. I admire what you’re doing, but if I were you I’d be terrified of going back there.”

  “Why?” asked Alma.

  “I don’t know, I guess I’m just scared of skeletons that want to be left alone in their closets.”

  PART TWO: RESPITE

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Preparations

  March 10th, 2012

  Rachel snorted loudly when she awoke. There was hardly a morning that passed where she didn’t wake up confused and frantic, and she looked back and forth in an attempt to get her bearings. She wiped the drool off her lips and then looked at Stephen to see if he was still asleep.

  Her phone was ringing and the shrill pitch hurt her head.

  “Crap,” she said as she slid out of bed. The new, silk sheets were slick and she fell to the floor where she cursed again.

  “You all right?” asked Stephen without moving.

  Rachel bounded up, wearing only a pair of underwear, and pulled the cover off the bed to wrap around herself. “Where’s my phone?” Rachel was useless in the morning, and always had trouble figuring anything out before having her first cup of coffee. It took Stephen several months to get used to her manic morning routine, but now he mostly ignored her.

  Stephen was laying nude, face down on the bed, and pointed lazily toward the kitchen. “In there somewhere.”

  Rachel ran off and nearly tripped over Stephen’s discarded clothes. “Phone, phone, phone,” she said as she searched. “Aha!” It was on the kitchen counter beside an empty bottle of wine. The bottle was one of two that they’d finished the night before.

  “Hello,” she answered. The blanket fell off her shoulder when she tried to hold the phone against it. “God damn it.”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” asked the woman on the line.
r />   “Depends,” said Rachel. “Who is this?”

  “Alma, from the school and the restaurant yesterday.”

  “Oh, Alma!” Rachel tried to sound more cordial. “I’m sorry, I just woke up. I am, without a doubt, the worst morning person you’ve ever met. And to make matters worse, I’m pretty hungover at the moment. Sorry.”

  Alma laughed. “I understand completely.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Have you and Stephen left for Widowsfield yet?”

  “No,” said Rachel as she started to make coffee. “We’re heading out today. Why?”

  “Got room for two more?”

  Rachel dropped the scoop of coffee grounds as if she needed to give her full attention to the phone call. “You want to come?”

  “My friend and I wanted to go, if that’s okay.”

  “Oh my God, yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. We’d be happy to have you. Stephen is going to be ecstatic to hear that you’re coming. We’ve been planning this for such a long time.”

  “Do you have room for both of us?”

  “I think so,” said Rachel. “Stephen just bought a shit load of equipment to take with us, but I think he’s planning on renting a van. I’m absolutely positive we can make room for you and… Who was it you were bringing?”

  “My boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, kind of boyfriend,” Alma struggled to encapsulate their relationship. She finally just said, “Paul.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll take you any way we can get you.”

  “I want to discuss some stipulations about me coming though,” said Alma. “I’m still a little nervous about the idea of airing all of this for the world to know. I’d prefer to have final say on whatever you say about me or my past, and whatever footage I’m in.”

  “I’m sure Stephen will agree to that. You’ll have to talk to him about it, but I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  “Okay then,” said Alma. “What time do we leave? Oh, and what sort of clothes should I bring?”

  “Tell you what,” said Rachel. “As a thank you, why don’t you let me take you out to buy some new clothes? We’ll make a date of it.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” said Alma.

  “No, I want to,” said Rachel. “We’ll get you something nice to make you feel good being on camera. Trust me, the right clothes make all the difference.”

  “Okay, you’re the expert.”

  “Do you still have my card?” asked Rachel. “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have this number. You see the address on the card?”

  “Yes.”

  “Meet me there at ten, if that works for you.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Alma.

  “Great! I’ll see you in an hour then.”

  Rachel squealed in delight and spun in a circle with the phone held above her head. The blanket fell to her feet, but she was too excited to mind. She bounded into the bedroom and leapt on the back of Stephen’s legs.

  “Guess what!”

  “Oh Christ!” Stephen put his head under a pillow and covered his ears, clearly a victim of their celebration the night before.

  Rachel put her phone on the bed and started to spank both of Stephen’s butt cheeks independently. “Get up, sleepyhead. Butt bongos, butt bongos,” she gleefully continued to slap him like an instrument.

  Stephen swung the pillow back at her haphazardly and laughed when he asked, “What’s gotten into you? How are you not hungover?”

  “I am, actually, I think I might still be a little drunk. I don’t know, but that’s not the point. I’ve got great news. Huge news!”

  Stephen started to turn and pushed her off the back of his legs. She bounced on the bed beside him and he slid partway over her, as if trying to pin her down with a sleepy wrestling move. However, when he realized she was partially nude he perked up.

  “Are you running around the house naked?” he asked, though he didn’t seem to mind.

  He groped her, misinterpreting her morning surprise, and she pushed his hand away. “Stop it.”

  “What?” He tried again.

  “Oh my God, stop it. We don’t have time. Someone’s meeting me here in an hour and I’ve got to get ready.”

  “An hour?” asked Stephen. His eyes were barely more than slits and he had a goofy drunken grin as he lecherously stared at Rachel’s breasts. “That’s way more time than I need.”

  “Aren’t you even a little curious who’s coming over?” asked Rachel as she relented and let Stephen play with her breasts.

  “Sure,” said Stephen for her benefit as he started to lick around her nipple.

  “You’re horrible,” said Rachel, although his attention had started to arouse her.

  “Yeah,” said Stephen as he kissed his way up her neck.

  She closed her eyes and enjoyed his foreplay. She’d learned to enjoy it whenever he took the time, which wasn’t as often as she would’ve liked. He climbed over her, already erect, and opened her legs. Rachel pushed his shoulders up as he had his lips suctioned to her nipple, and forced him to look at her. “Alma’s coming with us to Widowsfield.”

  Stephen’s eyes grew wide and a boyish excitement overtook him. “Seriously?” He sat up straight, seeming to lose all interest in intercourse.

  “Yes, that’s what I was trying to tell you. That’s who’s coming over. I’m going to take her out to buy some clothes before we head out.”

  Stephen put his hands on his head and looked like a child on Christmas. “This is great! Rachel, this is huge!”

  “I know. That’s what I was trying to tell you before you started trying to do me.”

  “What made her change her mind?”

  “I don’t know,” said Rachel. “She just called and said that she’s willing to come as long as we let her boyfriend come too.”

  “She can bring the philharmonic for all I care.”

  Rachel chuckled. She liked seeing Stephen this excited. “She wants to have final say on what footage airs, and what we talk to her about, but we were going to give her that anyhow.”

  “Sure, that’s fine by me.” Stephen got off the bed and started to gather his clothes.

  “Hey,” said Rachel as she lay on the bed, watching him get dressed. “What are you doing? You’re just going to get me all ready to go and then leave me cold?”

  He looked at the alarm clock to check the time. “Don’t you have to get ready?”

  She gave him a derisive grin. “I’m pretty sure we can fit in the few minutes you need to finish up here.”

  “Few minutes?” He crawled back onto the bed and over her. “Baby, you’d better get ready for at least, like, five minutes of heaven.”

  Rachel laughed and then squealed as he dove over her and started to bite playfully at her neck.

  * * *

  “Come in,” said Stephen when he answered the door.

  Alma was nervous as she looked in at Rachel and Stephen’s gorgeous apartment. It was on the north side of the city, on the first floor of a converted duplex. The old, stone edifice was gated with delicately crafted wrought iron and the façade was replete with lush ivy. The wood floor looked old, but beautifully so, with dents and scratches that gave it character. All of the furniture inside was white, with black legs, and looked as if it had been set in place with the purpose of being used for a magazine photo shoot. Even the haphazardly tossed magazines on the glass coffee table looked as if they’d been purposefully disheveled.

  “Your apartment is gorgeous,” said Alma.

  Paul walked in behind her, and even the sound of his boots clopping on the floor was out of place. Alma knew he was uncomfortable without even looking back at him.

  “Thanks,” said Stephen. “That’s all Rachel’s doing. When she moved in, she made me chuck out all my stuff. She likes to pretend she’s the one that picked out everything, but don’t let her fool you. Her father is an interior decorator. He’s responsible for all this.”

  “Well he can come over
to my place anytime,” said Alma.

  “Hi, I’m Stephen.” He reached out his hand to shake Paul’s

  “Paul.” The gruff, one word answer would have to do.

  “Come on in, sit down. Can I get you some coffee or something?” Stephen was wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans and a Northwestern t-shirt. He was barefoot, and his steps didn’t seem to make a sound as he padded through the room. However, every step that Alma and Paul took seemed to echo like hammer strikes on the wood.

  “I’m fine,” said Alma.

  “Same here.” Paul stayed behind Alma, as if more nervous than she was. He slipped his index fingers through belt loops on either side of her waist and stayed pressed against her back.

  “Rachel’s just finishing getting ready.” Stephen picked up a wine bottle and smiled as he held it aloft. “We might’ve been a little too liberal with the wine last night during our celebration.”

  “What was the celebration for?” asked Alma as she stood with Paul just past the foyer.

  “Besides the fact that it was Friday?” asked Stephen with a smile. “Yesterday was Rachel’s last day at the station. Yours was her last story.”

  “Oh wow,” said Alma. “She didn’t mention that before.”

  Stephen tossed the empty wine bottle into a trash can that had been set aside for recyclables. “That’s because she didn’t know it at the time. She didn’t decide to take the plunge until we got home from the restaurant. We got our first deposit from the online ads from our video yesterday. It was more than twice what Rachel makes per month.”

  “Nice,” said Paul.

  “You can say that again. And I’m an independent contractor for the station, so I can keep pulling in an income while we focus on the site. I don’t have to work full time for them if I don’t want to,” said Stephen as he walked to the living room. “Come on in, sit down.” He waved them over to join him.

  “Should I take off my shoes?” asked Paul. He looked hilariously out of place amid the designer decorations that surrounded them.

  “No,” said Stephen as he waved off Paul’s concern. “Don’t be silly. Come on in, have a seat.”