by C. W. Trisef
“Put it on your calendar, P,” Ana sang as she met up with Paige outside her physics class. “Homecoming is less than two weeks away!”
“Oh, that’s all?” Paige winced, noticeably less excited about the school dance than her friend.
“I know we’re only juniors,” Ana carried on, “but wouldn’t it be awesome if one of us was chosen as homecoming queen?”
“Not really,” Paige said quietly.
“You are going to come with me, aren’t you?” Ana asked.
“Well, uh…”
“Paige, you have to come!” Ana pled.
“I want to,” Paige told her, “but it’s just that I thought Ret would be home by now.”
“I know,” said Ana with sudden reality, “we all miss him.” Then, trying to solve the problem, she offered, “Why not go with someone else?”
“Yeah, I thought about that,” Paige sighed, “but it just wouldn’t be the same.”
“I know!” Ana exclaimed. “You can go with Leo!”
“But who will you go with?” Paige wondered.
“I’ll ask Dusty,” Ana stated. “We’ll all go together—in a group.” She put her arm around Paige, as if to reassure her. “It’ll be fun.”
“If you say so,” Paige obliged.
Down-to-earth Dusty was an easy sell. Over the last few months, he had been spending a lot of time with Paige and Ana—well, Ana mostly. Since they were essentially next-door neighbors, it was a rare day when they didn’t cross paths. Dusty became a regular at the Coopers’ weekly dinners, purportedly for the free food but obviously to see Ana, though he was never scared off by protective Pauline always placing him on dishwasher duty. He would go out of his way to find Ana in the Manor or on its grounds, and whenever she and Paige happened to pass by where he was working on the hardware of the communications system, he would ask Ana to hand him a screwdriver or a hammer or (once) a turkey sandwich. The attention flattered Ana but annoyed Paige.
While Dusty was warming up on Ana’s range of romance, however, Leo was cooling on the back burner. Now that the Coopers lived across the creek, it was harder for Leo to come around. He didn’t see Ana at work anymore because she was no longer employed, finding no need to earn money for gas since the family car had been destroyed in the house fire. So when Ana asked Leo to the homecoming dance, even though as Paige’s date, he gladly accepted. It was progress.
For Paige, the best part about the dance was in making her own dress for it. During the summer, she had asked Pauline to teach her how to sew. It was an idea that Pauline surged toward rather than skirted around. Ana showed little interest in the lost art until her mother brought out some old patterns to make different kinds of dresses. They made them all, wearing them to church and other formal functions. And so, when it proved difficult to find a modest dress for the homecoming dance, Paige and Ana decided to make their own.
Ana chose the A-line dress pattern, using a beautiful lavender fabric. She took it down to mid-calf, added puff sleeves, and topped it off with a little flower brooch that she pinned near the collar. For her dress, Paige decided on an empire waist design with bell sleeves. Her ruby red gown went all the way down to her feet. She planned to go in flats rather than heels and wear her blond hair down in her usual long, thick curls.
When the night of the dance arrived, Dusty met the girls at the Cooper home. He looked dashing in his three-piece designer suit, complete with cuff links and a pocket square. Pauline fetched the camera to snap a few photos.
“Oh, here, Mrs. Cooper,” Paige said, handing her cell phone to Pauline. “Will you take one with my phone? My dad’s still in the Arctic, but he wanted to see how my dress turned out.”
“I’d be happy to, dear,” Pauline smiled. “What a good father you have.”
Following the photos, Missy escorted the trio to the hangar, where the teens got in the car with their undercover bodyguard and departed.
They picked up Leo on their way to the school. Embarrassed by where he lived, he asked them to meet him on the corner down the street from the orphanage. Dusty tried to suppress a laugh when he saw Paige’s date. Leo was wearing an old brown coat—double-breasted and made of wool—with black slacks that were a little too short for him. His dress shoes were graying at the toes, and his thin, pastel-colored tie looked like the kind you’d find at the bottom of a used-clothing donation box. With hair slicked back and glasses wiped clean, he was ready for his very first dance, even if he did smell like mothballs.
Compared to their freshman year’s winter formal dance, homecoming was pretty uneventful—no Russian spy manning the drink shack, no trespasser raiding the principal’s office, not even a bomb scare. Ana spent most of the evening on the dance floor with Dusty, who turned out to be the life of the party. Having graduated from his own high school last year, he walked with a sort of immature maturity that earned him plenty of attention.
Meanwhile, Paige and Leo were sitting at an otherwise empty table on the well-lit and not-as-loud periphery of the hall, each sporting a wildly unentertained expression. Paige didn’t like to dance to such music, which worked out great since Leo didn’t know how to anyway. With longing in his eyes, Leo watched Ana from afar, that beautiful angel in the pale purple dress. In a way, it made him happy to see her so happy, but being without her made him sad in many more ways.
“You miss her, don’t you?’ Paige asked tenderly.
“Who? Ana?” Leo came to. “Nah…” he fibbed.
Paige, who couldn’t be fooled, gave him a ridiculous glare.
“Yeah, I guess I miss her a little,” Leo said.
“You’ve been staring at her all night,” Paige pointed out.
“Okay,” Leo capitulated. “I’ve just never seen anything so beautiful.” Then, as if such a compliment for Ana was an insult to his date, he awkwardly added, “Besides you—er, I mean—not that you’re not as pretty as she is, but—”
“It’s okay,” Paige held up her hand. “We’re just here as friends, Leo.”
Leo sighed, “Look how happy she is with him. And why wouldn’t she be? He’s tall and handsome, funny and outgoing. When she’s got a guy like him, why would she ever need a swain like me?”
“Aw, Leo,” Paige sympathized. “Ana really does care for you. Maybe it’s for the best that you meet other people. Like they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Or makes it wander,” Leo said under his breath. “You’re right. I reckon you would know, huh?”
Paige’s heart ached at the thought of Ret.
“Yes, well, at least you can see Ana,” Paige observed. “I wish I could see Ret again—or at least know he’s okay.”
“I saw him the night he left town,” Leo remembered.
“You did?” Paige pressed. “What did he say? Did he tell you where he was going?”
“All he said was that he was going somewhere but didn’t know where that somewhere was,” Leo retold. That wasn’t the answer Paige was hoping to hear.
Just then, Ana approached the table.
“Hey, guys,” she said cheerily. “Having fun?”
They replied with two bored stares.
“Where’s Dusty?” Leo wondered.
“He stepped outside for a minute,” said Ana. “He does that a lot, likes to get some fresh air.” Then, addressing Leo, “Would you like to dance for a bit while he’s out?”
“Would I ever!” Leo accepted, jumping from his chair. He glanced at his date to make sure it was okay for him to dance with another girl. Paige shooed him away encouragingly. Despite his nervousness, he was overjoyed to take Ana’s hand.
They hadn’t walked more than a couple steps, however, when Dusty returned.
“Hey, four eyes,” Dusty teased playfully, “what’re you doing with my girl?” He purposely slapped Leo on the back, causing a cloud of dust to erupt from his coat.
“Oh, Dusty, it’s okay,” Ana laughed. “Leo and I are just going to share a dance.”
“Nonsense,
” Dusty roared jovially. He put his arm around Ana and pulled her away towards the dance floor.
Looking back, Ana mouthed to Leo, “Sorry.”
As the night progressed, Paige and Leo saw Dusty “step outside” on several more occasions. Each time he returned, he seemed a little more animated and sociable than when he left. His demeanor was becoming louder and coarser. Several attendees were getting turned off by his increasingly rude behavior. Ana breathed a sigh of relief when the music ended and the lights came on.
At the conclusion of the dance, everyone spilled out of the school and into the parking lot. Glad to be leaving, Paige and Leo quickly spotted Missy, who was ready to ferry her four passengers home. She helped Paige and Leo into the car and then waited for Ana and Dusty, who had stopped in the crowd to talk to a noisy group of adolescents.
“Come on, Dusty,” Ana prodded him quietly, “Missy’s waiting for us.”
“Why don’t you come with me and a few of these guys over to their house?” Dusty happily invited her. “They’re going to let me use their car while they run to the store. We can chill at their place for a bit, and then they’ll take us home.”
“Oh, I—I don’t know,” Ana faltered.
Several in the group pressured her, “Come on.”
“It’ll be fine,” Dusty roared.
“Okay,” Ana gave in. “Let me go tell Missy.”
Ana ran across the lot to where Missy was still standing.
“I’m going to go with Dusty over to his friends’ house,” Ana told her sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. “They’ll take me home. I’ll be back before curfew.”
Missy, who was no spring pig, raised Ana’s chin, looked the young girl in the eye, and said caringly, “Miss Ana, I strongly recommend you come home with us, but I’ll leave it up to you.”
Ana looked torn.
“Come on, Ana!” Dusty bellowed from across the lot.
“It’ll be alright,” Ana said. “I’ll be home soon.”
Missy nodded. Ana ran off.
“Where’s Ana going?” Paige asked when Missy sat down in the driver’s seat.
“To the after party,” Missy frowned, watching through the rearview mirror as the rowdy group cheered when Ana returned to join them. She started the car and headed for home.
The group of loitering teenagers split up. Half set out on foot for the convenience store down the street. Ana followed the other half into the car, with Dusty behind the wheel. He turned the key and floored the gas, causing the engine to thunder, much to the delight of his passengers. After doing a few donuts, Dusty turned out of the school parking lot and screeched down the street.
Ana sunk low in the backseat. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Dusty was driving recklessly, and his friends were egging him on. They sped up and down the empty streets of the small town with no regard for law or safety.
It was during a hard right turn when Ana felt something hit her foot. She moved her dress aside and looked down on the floor. It was a can of beer, and it was empty. Then she realized the soda can that Dusty kept sipping at and returning to the drink holder wasn’t soda—it was beer. She glanced down at the ground around other people’s feet and discovered more empty beer cans. Now she knew what Dusty had really been doing at the dance every time he went outside.
Ana found herself in a very dangerous situation. These people were drunk, and Dusty was driving the car under the influence of alcohol. Ana was scared. She should have listened to Missy, not the thoughtless crowd. But it wasn’t too late. She would simply ask to get out.
“Um, Dusty,” Ana tried to say, but her sweet voice could not be heard above the riot.
“Dusty,” she said a bit louder, “I want to get out.” Again, he didn’t hear, but the person next to Ana gave her a snooty look and laughed.
Finally, Ana yelled, “I want to get out!”
Dusty brought the car to a screeching halt, and everyone went silent.
“What did you say?” he asked, as if suddenly sober.
“I said,” Ana restated calmly, “I want to get out.” Her request was met with derision.
“Okay, then go ahead,” Dusty politely told her. Ana reached for the door and had slightly opened it when Dusty floored the gas pedal. The car lunged forward, and his friends erupted in laughter.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dusty lied, slamming on the brakes. “Now go ahead.” Ana hastily tried to exit again, but Dusty took off like before.
Frightened and upset, Ana shouted, “Dusty Thorne, you let me out of this car right now!” From behind, she struck him on his shoulder.
In that instant, Dusty snapped. He went from a social drunk to a belligerent one. He became angry and turned on Ana.
“Fine!” he howled, throwing the car into park. “You want out?” He burst out of his door, got out, and then swung her door open. “Then get out!” He yanked her from the backseat, slammed the doors, and then sped off, his friends celebrating all the more now that their party pooper was gone.
Standing there in the middle of the vacant street, Ana started to cry. She felt painfully foolish. The whole altercation had left her with a sick feeling. The influence that had come over Dusty over the course of the evening was foreign to her. To her knowledge, she had never been around an intoxicated person before, and she would have paid more attention to the early signs of drunkenness had she known what they were. But she was safe now and had learned a great lesson.
Ana started for home. She texted Paige, apologized, and asked if they could pick her up. Paige said they were almost home but would turn around and come get her. Still in her dress, Ana sat down on the curb and waited for her ride. She wiped her eyes dry, so relieved to be out of that car.
A few moments later, a series of quick noises disrupted the nighttime air. First, there was the screeching of tires, then the colliding of metal, followed by the shattering of glass, and finally the honking of a jammed horn. They were the unmistakable sounds of a car accident.
Ana’s heart jumped, “Oh no.”
She feared the worst and hoped it wasn’t true. She immediately left the curb and ran toward the disquieting sound of the car horn. Removing her heels and holding up her dress, she sprinted up the street two blocks until she came to the main road. That’s when she saw it. There were two mutilated cars in the intersection. Dusty was behind the wheel in one of them, now in a drunken daze after causing the head-on collision. Ana was heartbroken when she recognized the unconscious driver in the other car: it was Missy.
CHAPTER 12
LYE’S TROUBLES
Mr. Coy couldn’t believe his eyes. From the safety of the submarine as it floated just beneath the Arctic ice, he watched through the scope as Lye led Ret by the hand out of the dogsled’s cargo bed and onto the ice. Coy wished he could hear what was being said.
“Let me see that scar,” Lye hissed. As if Ret couldn’t move on his own, Lye grabbed Ret’s left hand, opened the palm himself, and glared at the scar. Then he shuffled along the ice, pulling Ret with him and referring to the scar often. He was obviously trying to arrive at a specific spot and needed the scar to help him get there.
Eventually, Lye stopped and rejoiced, “Here it is! This is it! This is the exact spot of the North Pole. Look—look at the scar. Now the barbs are lined up: the moveable barb is overlapping the barb that is always fixed on the south. That’s because when I stand in this exact spot, any way I turn is south. I’m on the North Pole—the top of the world. No matter which way I look, it’s south.” Lye waited for Ret to respond to the great news, but Ret didn’t even blink.
“So, Ret,” Lye continued, “what do we do next, I wonder?” Again, no response. “Here, you stand here. Maybe you’re the one who has to do it.” He positioned Ret on the exact spot of the North Pole and prepared for something extraordinary to happen. He stood there for several minutes, hoping for the ice to part or the sky to open or a secret passageway to appear—something, anything—like what usually occurred with elements pas
t. But nothing happened.
With immense frustration, Lye howled, “Then what does this scar mean?!” Despite Lye’s vehemence, however, Ret remained as dull as a post.
Mr. Coy couldn’t watch any longer. He fell back in his chair in total disbelief. As pleased as he had been to have tracked down Lye, he was stricken with horror the moment he saw Ret with him. Why was Ret working with Lye now? Had he really joined forces with the enemy? How could this be? Coy’s heart sank.
“You alright, Coy?” Thorne asked, seeing his friend slip into somber spirits. Coy passed the lens to him but didn’t expect Thorne to understand.
“There’s the old man,” Thorne observed cheerfully while looking through the scope at the scene outside. “And is that…is that Ret with him?”
“It would appear so,” Coy said with sorrow.
“I wish I could hear what they’re saying,” Thorne said as he looked on.
Back outside, “Bah!” Lye spat with fury, casting Ret’s hand away. “Why am I even talking to you? You’re not real. You’re not the real Ret. You’re just a clone. You’re just a bunch of skin and bones. You may have some of his blood in you, but you don’t have his brain. You don’t even have a brain. You can’t think for yourself. You can’t even move without a spark of electricity to bring you to life. The only thing you’re good for is the scars, but what good are even those if you don’t have the mind to interpret them?”
The clone seemed unfazed by Lye’s verbal abuse. It just stood there like an exhibit at a wax museum. There was only one thing about the clone that made it seem alive: its eyes. The clone didn’t have blue eyes like the real Ret; in fact, it didn’t even have pupils. Instead, there was a small current of electricity surging across the whites of each eye.
“What a waste,” Lye rehearsed to himself on his trek back to the sled, pulling the clone along. “I went to great lengths to duplicate Ret—collected a sample of his blood while he was unconscious at the Vault, hired the brightest (and most expensive) minds in science, painstakingly cultured his clone for months until I finally had my own set of scars—then I traveled all the way out to this miserable place, by dogsled no less, and all for what?” Lye pushed the clone onto the cargo bed, then raised his cane and took back the spark that he had previously bestowed. The clone’s eyes went blank, and the lifeless mass folded to its former resting place.