by Amy Kinzer
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.
Chapter Twelve
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 eve
rybody 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.
Chapter Thirteen
Matt
A knock on the door awake
ns 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.