by Amy Kinzer
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.
Chapter Three
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.
Chapter Four
Matt
Mom drops me off at Boeing Field at 8 AM. I’m waiting in a special area for the private plane that wi
ll 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 premi
er 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.
Chapter Five
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.