Ascent

by Amy Kinzer

  “You know you can’t do anything more than what they tell us we can do? Right?”

  I smile, like it’s the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard and it’s not something I’d ever consider. “Of course. It’s in the training material.” Then I change the subject. “How about you? How do you feel about going back?”

  She looks at the ground. Her mother laughs from the TV. Her voice tickles the air. Farrah looks at the TV and then over to me.

  “You know, other than what I see there on the TV, I can’t remember that much about her. To me, she’s Lynette the actress, the faded star. Sure, I look at pictures of us together and I have some of her old clothes. I can watch her in the movies as much as I want. But when I try to picture her outside what I see on the TV, it’s all just fading away. Like if it weren’t for these DVDs, I’d hardly remember she existed.” Farrah pulls her arms tight around herself, like she’s giving herself a hug to push away the thoughts floating around in her mind. “I can’t believe these movies are all I remember of her. Maybe it’s because I was so young when she died. But what do people do after someone passes on? How to they hold onto the memories? I didn’t know Mom was going to die. I think I would have etched the memories of her in my mind deeper if I had known they were going to be my last.”

  I nod my head. I know exactly what Farrah is saying. How time makes things disappear. How the memories fade as your brain opens up space to store new ones. How sometimes you want to hold onto those moments, the moments you think about everyday, but then they disappear, gone like a light turned off at night.

  I understand why Farrah wants to hold on.

  I want to ask Farrah something, but I’m afraid it will open up too many bad memories. Maybe her mind has closed the door to those last days and thrown away the key.

  But I have to ask. “How close to the day your mom ended her life are you going back?”

  She hesitates. Her hands wring together while she considers. Then, finally: “I’m going back the week she died. They’re making me come back the day she died. Only she won’t be dead. That will be the big difference.”

  Now it’s my turn to ask. “What do you think it will be like?”

  “I don’t know… That week was such a bad period for Mom. I want to go back and spend our last week together again. I want to make her change her mind. I want to remember what she smelled like and our conversations. I want to hug her again. But I feel like, if she’s somewhere on the time continuum, wanting to kill herself again, and this time I can stop her, I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

  I nod my head. I know exactly what she means. To want to be there for someone at the end.

  And to not have a choice.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to do it?”

  One solitary tear trickles down from the corner of Farrah’s eye. “I’m not sure. I spoke to Lisa and went over the timeline. They think I’ll be able to make a change. Me? I’m not so sure.” She pauses, like she’s drifted off to another dimension. “Of course I want to help my mom. But I’m worried it won’t make a difference. My mom had been struggling with the reality of her life for years. If I help her one day, it doesn’t mean the next day will be any different. What if I can save her only to have her swallow a handful of pills later? That’s what Dr. Thompson said too; that a lot of times there’s no stopping the trajectory. If an event doesn’t happen on one day, it will happen another. But I have to do my best. It’s my only chance.”

  I pause. Can I trust her? “I have to do something for Violet. I can’t let things end the way they did. I have to go back. I’d risk anything to change that night. Anything.”

  It’s out there. The truth. It sucks the air out of the room.

  The credits to Taxi Driver start rolling and the movie’s theme song floats in the room. We both have it out in the open. The hidden reason we’re at IYD.

  We both have business to take care of from our past. Only one person will return from their mission and the other one won’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Farrah–Kate

  After Matt’s gone to bed I can’t sleep, so I head out to the pool to clear my head. I need to think. To take in everything we’ve learned and to reflect my past. The desert is quiet and the sky is clear. Diamonds glitter down at me. I lie on my back, watching the dots of light twinkle.

  Marvin says the dots represent moments in time. The light is, in some cases, from a million years ago. Maybe even a billion years ago. The universe is swirling across the time continuum.

  Somewhere in time Mom is still alive. There are a million moments going on all around us.

  My eyes examine each star, searching for Mom, wondering, wishing things were different … According to Marvin and his theories, she’s out there somewhere, and his machine is going to help me find her.

  I wonder if she’s like I remember her or if my memory is flawed, if her voice is like the woman in the films I watch on TV.

  I can hear everyone inside. Tomorrow Matt’s leaving. I can’t believe it’s already time for him to go. I hope he doesn’t do anything foolish. He has to come back.

  I can’t believe a person like him passed the assessment test. But Matt’s a good actor. Anyone would think he was the child of an actress, not me.

  And Rick passed the psychological assessment.

  Maybe the test isn’t as stringent as it should be.

  I think back to the night out at the lake, Matt and I sitting together, his warm embrace, the kiss on my forehead. I wonder how he kissed Violet.

  I sit up and look around. I try to picture the vortexes that Marvin Winn told me about that exist all around us. The pin prick sized vortexes are too small to enter. But they’re everywhere. I look at the air, searching for the waves Dr. Thompson lectured us on in class. The waves that Rick ran through. I reach out, trying to find the small little holes that could transport me someplace else.

  I wonder about missing people. People who were walking down a road and disappeared into thin air. Maybe they walked into a vortex. Maybe they were swept away to another dimension, never to be seen again.

  Butterflies try to escape my stomach. I can’t believe tomorrow is the day for Matt to travel to the past. There’s so much I want to talk to him about before he goes. I want to tell him about my feelings. I want to try to convince him to try not to go off track in the past because I want him to come back.

  It’s not worth it anyway. We’re not supposed to change anything that’s not on our lists. Lisa made that clear to us.

  But it’s not my choice. Matt is the one leaving tomorrow and he’s the only one who can decide his future – the trajectory of his life – and I don’t want to interfere with the time continuum.

  I have to believe he’ll come back. It’s the only way I’ll be able to make it out to the field tomorrow without breaking down.

  And, anyway, he has to come back. Joining the Party is the only way out.

  ***

  The heat from the day eases as it gets deeper into the night. When the air and my body temperature reach equilibrium I know it’s late. I open the door and walk into the hotel. A security guard smiles at me as I pass. I nod my head at him and he nods back.

  I pause outside Matt’s door. I stand still, listening for a noise, but I hear nothing. It’s so late even Matt has gone to sleep.

  In my room I turn on the TV. The Party monitors the channels and at this time of night the only thing on is Party-sponsored news. A blonde with bobbed hair and bright red lipstick talks about a missing child. It’s a girl with blonde hair and a nose covered in freckles. She was wearing a red shorts and a Hello Kitty t-shirt. Her tearful mom cries in front of the camera.

  I turn off the TV and the room goes dark save for the glow from my digital alarm clock. It’s 2:25 AM. The earth is spinning towards morning. I close my eyes and dream of vortexes and trainees who disappear in the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Matt

  I spend the night in bed, stari
ng at the ceiling. Air rushes in, inflates my lungs, and expels out. The air conditioning runs all night. The Freon filled air rushes from the vents and blows across my bed. I have no idea why the Party chose the desert to set up their headquarters. If you spend too long outside, you’ll cook.

  I think back to that night as I remember it. I hate the way it ends. If I’d had more to drink that night, I might’ve been able to forget the ending. Violet’s head rolling around on the floor, her body still strapped in the passenger seat, screams from the backseat, a body in the trees. The smell of vomit and shit.

  Why was I the only one who came out A-Okay?

  It’s like some weird twist of fate that the person who caused the tragedy is the one person who came out fine. Barely even a scratch to show for it.

  I torture myself with these visions. I have to remember. It’s my punishment.

  I roll to my side. The digital read out on the alarm says it’s 4:22 AM. That night I sat in a police station covered in blood, waiting to be interviewed about the accident. Now I’m lying in bed in anticipation of that night, waiting to go back.

  The plan is to go back and make a change and to end the night differently.

  I should never have told Farrah about my plan. But Farrah is the one person who would understand.

  But what if she tells someone and they bring me back before I can make a change? I can’t have anyone interfere with that night. Violet didn’t deserve what happened to her. It should be me lying six feet under the ground. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to be here.

  The digital read out on the clock clicks over to 4:23 AM and I roll on my back and wait.

  ***

  I’m the first person in the lobby. The security shift is changing. The night shift is going home, looking like zombies as they trudge out, and the day shift is arriving. The day shift doesn’t look much better; it’s like working for the Party sucks the life out of you.

  The directions say no food or water the morning of the travel. I sit on the couch, tapping my foot against the floor. The sound bounces off the walls and echoes in the empty room. I’m too nervous to sit, so I get up and pace. Pace up to the wall and back. I pace to the window. The sun is creeping up over the hills, filtering between the spaces in the casinos, lighting up the Las Vegas valley.

  It’s almost time.

  ***

  Farrah is the first person down the stairs. I hoped she’d be the last. If she were last then we wouldn’t have to talk. Her eyes are puffy and she looks like she was up all night. I don’t want to talk, so I avert my eyes to the ground. She’s on to me though.

  “Nervous?” she asks as she walks over.

  I examine her: blond hair falls in waves past her shoulders, a dust of freckles sprinkle her nose. She’s so skinny she’s like a stick figure. She’s nothing like Violet. They’re like polar opposites.

  “No, I know what I’m doing.”

  She pauses. “You have to follow Lisa’s list, you know that, right?”

  In the early morning light she looks like an angel. The sun filters through the window, making a halo around her head. Farrah is everything I’d ever ask for in a girl, everything but the girl who was, the girl I have to go back and save.

  “Yes, I know that.”

  The sound of footsteps echoing down the stairs turn our attention to the foyer. It’s Rick making his way down. He’s never on time. There’s a worried look on his face that he erases as soon as he notices me watching.

  “Big day, man, huh?” He bumps my fist. “You ready to do this thing?”

  I nod. “I was born ready.”

  “It’s awesome! It’s unbelievable. You won’t be the first person in the history books to travel back in time but you’ll be the second. The second successful one, as long as you don’t screw anything up.”

  “Second is good enough for me – and I won’t screw anything up.”

  More footsteps and we’re ready to go.

  ***

  The Party’s bus is already waiting for us in front of the hotel when we get outside. Liam gets out of the driver’s seat and swings open the door, letting us in. I wait while everyone else gets on first. Farrah stops and looks over her shoulder and our eyes meet before she steps onto the bus. I look up at the casino one last time.

  A small group of Party opposition members have gathered outside the hotel. They’re growing in size. I hear their chanting all around us. They watch us load onto the bus. I feel hatred in the way they look at us.

  A familiar looking woman stands along the fence. In front of her stands a little boy. I remember her from the day I ran outside. The last time I went off campus.

  It’s Angela.

  She’s wearing the same shirt with a picture of a smiling man on the front.

  “You said you would help us,” she hisses at me. “Things are getting worse, not better. They’re trying to control us. You have to make them stop.”

  Everyone is already on the bus, except for Liam who is still talking to a security guard in front of the hotel. I walk over to where she’s standing. I might as well; it’s not like I’ll have to face my punishment when I get back.

  “Who said I’m not?”

  She moves back. Her face is skeptical. “You’re one of them …”

  I look back at the bus and then to the hotel. Liam notices me by the fence. It’s time to go.

  “I’ll do what I can …” The face on Angela’s shirt stares at me. Daring me to change his outcome. Liam looks at me again and heads my direction. “I need to go.”

  I walk away from the group and step on the bus.

  ***

  I expected the bus to buzz with excitement on our way out to the vortex. But instead it’s silent. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts and nervous energy.

  We drive towards the mountains in the distance. After maybe fifteen minutes of travel, Dr. Thompson stands up and starts walking towards us.

  “We’re getting close. Time to get on the goggles; we don’t want to give anything away.”

  He starts handing them out. I slide them over my head and secure them in place. Once the outside world is blocked out a light on the side blinks and a small red dot fills my peripheral vision.

  We’re getting close. Dr. Thompson wouldn’t have us cover our eyes if we weren’t.

  ***

  Even though all I see is black and red, I can hear the hum of the engine as the bus moves quietly down the road. We hit an occasional bump and my body leans to the right when the van makes a turn. We’re not on paved road anymore. The bus keeps moving. Then I feel the motion slowing, and I move forward on the seat before sliding back and I know we’ve stopped.

  “Students, please release your glasses.”

  I reach to the side of the glasses and push the button. The grip from the suction slowly releases and light eases around the edges. I lift the glasses off my face and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. Once I’m able to see, I look out the window. We’re in the middle of the desert and there’s not a building in sight.

  I spot Farrah in the front of the bus. She has her glasses off and she’s looking out the window – like she might see something if her eyes search hard enough. I know Farrah wants to go, but at the same time she doesn’t. I wonder what it’s like to be so unsure.

  All I know is that I’m ready to go to the other side. I have a date with my past.

  I get up and make my way to the aisle. Rick gets up and stands in front of me. He shouldn’t be in a hurry; he’s just observing today. I don’t know why he’s trying to block my exit.

  “Hey, man, you got glue in your shoes or something?”

  He looks over his shoulder at me. “No.”

  “Then pick it up.”

  Rick takes a couple of steps and we exit the bus.

  ***

  It’s the hottest day so far this year. I step off the bus and the air burns my skin. The ground is hard and dusty. Everything is quiet. Tumbleweeds blow by in the wind. It’s like a scene from one
of those old movies Dad used to watch when I was a kid. I can’t believe this is where my life has taken me. These are my last moments here in the present and I’m spending them in the middle of nowhere in one of the hottest places on earth.

  Dr. Thompson walks around the field with his Slider, looking at the readings. The sun scorches my eyes and salty sweat makes them burn. I just want to get out of here. It’s cooler on the other side. That much I remember.

  “The vortexes are weak today.” Dr. Thompson walks to the bus and returns with my very own Slider.

  I take the device in my hand. It’s lighter than I expected. It weighs nothing.

  “Go ahead and turn it on. It’s almost time. You’re scheduled to leave in five minutes.”

  I look around. The glare from the sun makes my classmates disappear in the glow. Their bodies shimmer in the distance. They’re standing in the shade of the bus in silence. They look almost like a mirage.

  For the briefest moment I have my doubts.

  I think of my mom. She’s so close to the edge – because of all the pain I’ve caused her. She didn’t want me to join the Party.

  I think of my friends who are still here.

  My little brother who thinks I’m a superhero with a football.

  My chance to be a member of the Party and to change my family’s lives … it’s the only chance for a future. Joining the Party could change everything for them. I’m sure my descent will cause them problems. But I’ll be a year away. What are they going to do? Come looking for me? Winn Theory doesn’t work that way. They can’t go back to a place they’ve never been.

  It’s like a flash.

  But it’s not enough.

  Not enough to stay.

  “The vortexes are getting stronger.”

  I look up and Dr. Thompson is standing in front of me.

  I shake my head. It was almost as if I was already gone.