by Amy Kinzer
I slam on the brakes and the music is drowned out by screaming. Violet screaming.
Then comes a horrible metal sound. The sound of metal crunching, the tires squealing on the asphalt. The smell of brake dust burns my nose. A tree cut right through the center of the car, both the engine and lights cutting out. A soft whimper from the back and silence from my right.
Quiet.
Nothing but the sound of wheels spinning and the hissing sound of steam coming from the front of the car.
The weird thing about the whole accident … the driver’s seat was unscathed. That’s the thing about life; bad things happen to some people and miss others. It was like I had a force field around me. Like some greater force wanted me to live so I could see what I had done. Like the universe wanted to torture me with that night for the rest of my life. Not that I deserved any protection. I’m the last guy that deserved any special treatment.
I turn to my right and I know it’s bad. The tree had shorn straight through the car to the backseat. There’s something on the floor close to my leg. It was like a bowling ball in a puddle of neatly styled hair.
It took me a moment to process what I was looking at.
A beer can rolls from the passenger seat down by the bowling ball that’s not a bowling ball.
The driver’s side door wouldn’t open. I pull on the handle and give it a shove, but nothing. I try again and it’s stuck.
My leg hurts. I look down and see my jeans are ripped and a cut on my leg is dripping blood. I get out of the passenger seat and crawl through a crack in the car.
We were in the middle of the forest on a barely used road and there was no one around. No sounds, no cars … I pull my cell out of my pocket. I lit the display and use it as a flashlight.
Violet was leaned over, rubbing my leg when the car went off the road. The tree cut straight through her. There were her shoulders, covered in thick liquid – and then nothing else.
Brian wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. The back door is open and he’s gone. Thrown from the car. The window by Hannah’s seat is broken and covered with blood. I tiptoe next to the car and look in. The side of her face is pushed in, pieces of glass in her eye. I try to open the door, but I can’t. And it doesn’t matter. It’s too late.
I call 911.
I look around for Brian while I wait, using the light from my phone. The rain disappeared just as fast as it arrived. The clouds give way to the stars. They twinkle, just like normal, as if nothing has changed. Nothing happened. Everything is exactly how it was. I inhale, take a breath deep into my lungs and exhale.
I hear a moan. I shine the phone the direction of the sound and spot Brian on the ground. He pulled himself away from the car, but I’m not sure where he’s going. And I can’t tell if he’s okay or not.
But he’s making noise, which is better than nothing.
“Hey, man, I called for help. Someone should be here any minute.”
I reach down and hold his hand.
***
I shake the memories from that night out of my head. The red digital clock on Josh’s dash reads 10:19 just as I come around the curb from that night. I could never forget the location of the curb. I came back almost every day after the accident. It was weird at first because sometimes I would see Violet’s mom here. She’d be out by the fallen tree, sitting on the stump, with her head buried in her hands. I’d hide in the forest on the other side of the road and watch her sob, her shoulders shaking like a demon was being exorcised from inside of her.
And maybe that’s the thing about mourning. An exorcism is needed to take away all the bad feelings. All the horrible things that make you feel like you can’t take another breath or live one more day.
It’s a horrible place to be. I’ve been there and if I had a choice I would have been the one leaning over the center of the car when the tree cut straight through it.
I don’t know what I’m expecting when I round the bend. I slow down and pull over to the side of the road and flash the headlights towards the infamous tree. It’s 10:21 and I’m too late. I turn off the engine and get out of the car. It’s perfectly quiet. No one is around. All the shrubs on the side of the road are untouched. I spot the towering pine in the distance and it’s still standing.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Is anyone out here?”
Silence.
I walk to the tree. It’s all in one piece. I feel water seeping through my shoes from the night’s rain. The clouds have raced away, leaving dots of light in the sky, just like that night. Just like I remember it.
Everything in the forest is illuminated.
But they’re not here.
And it’s then that I start to laugh.
A weird laugh – like someone hysterical, too close to the edge, mixed with enthusiasm, like I’ve just won the lottery. I barely recognize the sound as coming from myself.
Dr. Thompson was right. You can change your past.
***
I get back into the car and drive towards town. My eyes are peeled along the side of the road looking for headlights or tire tracks leading off the side. There’s nothing.
The glow from town gets brighter and the traffic picks up. I head to Tommy’s Italian Pizzeria. Josh’s car is parked in the front of the restaurant. I stop and get out. I examine the outside of the car, looking for dents or scratches. Nothing. The car looks like it was just driven off the lot.
I open the door to the pizzeria and spot them sitting at a table. Violet and Hannah are sitting next to each other. Josh and Brian are playing a video game. A huge half-eaten pepperoni pizza sits on the middle of the table.
Violet looks up and sees me in the doorway. “Matt! What are you doing here? We were going to bring pizza back for you.”
She’s taken off the purple sweater so she’s wearing just the white t-shirt she had on underneath. The t-shirt is covered with little purple lint balls. They’re like balls of light.
I reach down and give her a hug. She still smells like the cosmetic counter at Nordstrom, only now it’s mixed with the faint smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
She looks up at me and smiles. It’s a loopy smile, happy and without a care in the world. The kind of smile that comes from having a few too many beers to drink and no worries in the world. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
I shake my head. “Josh shouldn’t have driven. You’re all riding back with me. I can’t believe you’d get in a car with him.”
“Great! Let’s go, we ordered an extra pizza and Hannah and I have just been waiting for the guys to finish playing that video game.”
Violet makes her way towards the pizza and Hannah goes over to retrieve Josh and Brian. Everyone is here, breathing and moving.
I feel a smile cross my face. It’s been a long time since I smiled.
Chapter Thirty
Farrah–Kate
I couldn’t sleep. I spent the night tossing and turning and staring at the digital clock on the counter beside my bed. I have no idea what happened to Matt.
All I know is that he didn’t come back.
I sit in the lobby waiting for the others, fearing the worst, and scared of what’s to come. Members of security are pacing. A guard keeps looking out the window like Matt will walk up and it will be like nothing happened.
My stomach twists in knots as we ride out to the desert. The bus is silent. Two people have traveled and only one person came back.
I don’t know what it means for the rest of us.
If they’ll still send us back or if they’ll cancel the rest of the program and just keep us here.
I don’t know what it means for my mother.
We take off our goggles and pile out of the bus. The desert is empty. We stay close to the bus and the air conditioning that blows out on us. It’s the only way to stay alive out here.
We all came back to wait for Matt. Maybe he missed a vortex, so his return has been d
elayed. That’s what Dr. Thompson said: he might still return. But I have a sinking feeling in my stomach, like he planned this all along. I knew there was a reason I felt like Matt was the last person I’d see at a place like IYD. Because, besides myself, Matt is the last type of person who would go to a school controlled by the Party.
We stand out there for an eternity, just waiting for him.
Shannon’s the first person to give up and go back on the bus. I don’t blame her; my skin sizzles under the desert sun. Casey shares the worried expression that I have burning inside me. She shrugs her shoulders and heads to the bus. Marcus goes next. The air conditioning is blasting inside. Inside the bus are bottles of water and food. I don’t blame them.
My skin blisters, but I stay rooted to the spot. It’s just Rick, Dr. Thompson, Liam and I out in the heat. I shift further into the shade. Rick’s skin’s so red that it looks like it’s boiling. His face is strained. I know Rick counted Matt as his only friend.
Dr. Thompson looks at the digital timer on the Slider. I can see the time over his shoulder. Matt was supposed to be back hours ago. The vortexes on the other side are closing.
He missed the window
Dr. Thompson shakes his head and starts pacing. We’ve been standing around in silence, everyone exhibiting their own way of dealing with their nervous energy. Everyone is too on edge to say a word.
The time has passed and we have to accept what no one wants to say.
“I’m going to have the bus take everyone back to headquarters. Farrah, you need your rest and there’s no way of knowing what happened to Matt. Why don’t we pack our stuff up and get going. Liam, go ahead and bring the van around so we can head back.”
I make eye contact with the others, but still no one speaks. I know the silence is part because of me. It’s no secret how I feel about Matt. No one wants to say out loud what everyone believes.
Matt’s not coming back.
Liam pulls the bus around and we start loading the gear. I take a seat in the front by the window and lean my head against the glass. Out the window I watch Liam and Dr. Thompson speak to each other. Dr. Thompson looks at the time on the Slider again. He holds it up and starts pressing buttons. Then he shakes his head. Liam says something and Dr. Thompson waves him away. Liam heads towards the van and Dr. Thompson returns back to his seat.
Liam steps into the van and sits in the driver’s seat. “Get your goggles on,” he calls out behind him, not bothering to check if we comply. I pull the mask over my eyes, thankful to block out the world. He starts the engine and pulls away.
***
The bus pulls into to the hotel garage and the heavy metal door shuts with a clank behind us. I’m the first person off. I walk into the lobby in a daze. It’s full of security guards. I overhear something about a breach that occurred while we were gone. Out the window I see a white sheet covering something shaped like a body. The sheet is splattered with red. I head over to the elevator to return to my room. I don’t want anyone to see me.
My room is dark. I don’t bother to turn on the lights. I walk to my bed and pull the blankets up to my chin and close my eyes. I’m still wearing the clothes I put on this morning. The smell of dried sweat from too many hours outside burns my nose.
I should get up to take a shower but I don’t.
Visions from the day are like a movie in front of my eyes. I close my eyes and try to make Matt’s face disappear. But there he is, standing in the middle of the desert, waiting for the vortexes to open up to take him away.
I hope nothing happened to him, that the vortexes didn’t pull him into nothing but his constituent molecules. I don’t think it’s that, though. I think he didn’t come back because he didn’t want to.
When I came out here, all I wanted was one more moment with my mother. I can barely remember her. My memories are fading to nothing but what I see in the films. I wasn’t expecting to fall so hard for a guy I just met. A guy who had a secret from the past he needed to resolve.
I’m about to get my chance.
I lay it on my bed and turn to my side. Tomorrow is my turn. It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for ten years.
***
I must doze off because the buzzing of my alarm startles me enough that I almost fall out of bed. I turn my head; my neck is stiff and my head hurts like I slept all night with my jaw clenched shut.
I open my mouth. My jaw pops. I lift my arms over my head and stretch.
I want to close my eyes again when I’m startled awake by the memory that today’s my day. Today’s my day to travel.
It’s my turn to go back.
I sit up and swing my legs to the side. The room’s so quiet.I pad down the hall to the shower.
***
I don’t eat; we’re not supposed to. I wait in the foyer with everyone else. I’m leaning forward with my eyes closed, trying not to think too hard about what’s about to happen.
If I think too hard about it, it will freak me out.
I hear a door open and the sound of murmurs. I look up and see Dr. Thompson with Marvin Winn. Marvin is wearing a suit. He looks like he aged over night.
For a man with a time machine, he doesn’t seem to be using it to stop the aging process.
“I’m glad everyone is down here. I want to talk to you about what happened to your classmate.”
Marvin smiles at us and makes his way over to a chair. Dr. Thompson waits as Marvin slowly sits down, balancing his weight on his cane as he lowers himself into the chair. Once he’s settled he looks around the room and gives us a warm smile.
“Matt was supposed to enter the vortex to return home. There were several vortexes available and he’s failed to return. We believe something happened in the past that prevented his return. Perhaps he went outside the list that Lisa provided. It’s important when you go back to only follow what’s on the list. Now he’s missed the window. All efforts at communication have been lost. Our research shows that missing the Slide by more than five hours makes it exponentially more difficult to return.”
Dr. Thompson gives us a few minutes to absorb the information. I feel eyes on me, boring into me, waiting for me to freak out, but I choose to ignore them.
“We need to make sure everyone understands part of the agreement you signed when you came to IYD. You’re going back to change only what we asked of you. Nothing else. We need you to return through the open window. Now, I need everyone to review the document you signed when you entered IYD. Don’t go against Party rules. The outcome could be disastrous.”
Dr. Thompson pulls a stack of papers from inside a folder he’s been holding in his right hand and starts passing the papers around. It’s the same release agreement we signed when we came.
The reality of what’s about to happen hits me like falling meteor.
I pretend like I’m reading the agreement even though I have it memorized.
Once everyone has signed the form, Marvin stands up like he has something to say.
He says, “Class.” We all look up. Everyone listens when Marvin speaks. “You are the Party’s future. The Slider is truly a world changing invention and the proper use of the Slider is imperative. Please, it’s important you follow your timeline as close as possible. We need you to return. We don’t want to lose anyone else.” His eyes are on me when he finishes speaking.
But he’s got nothing to worry about.
***
I must hold my breath as we drive out to the desert because every few seconds I find myself gulping for air. My mind is filled with thoughts about Matt and worry about sliding into the past.
What if the reason Matt didn’t come back was because the travel wasn’t safe? I mean; Rick’s the only person who has come back. What if the Slider doesn’t work? What then? Will I get trapped in the tunnel? Will all the molecules in my body get ripped apart, disintegrating me?
Norris and Matt both disappeared after entering the vortex. What if I’m next?
I shake my head. I can’t let
myself freak out. I came for one reason and one reason only: to have one last moment with my mother. And nothing is going to stop me from seeing her one last time.
Dr. Thompson calls my name, breaking through my panicked thoughts.
It’s time to go.
Chapter Thirty-One
Farrah–Kate
Ten Years Earlier
She sits in front of the mirror on her red velvet vanity chair. She leans closer to the mirror, examining her features and then backs away. I watch her from the doorway of her room as she pulls back the skin on her forehead. Her very faint wrinkles disappear. They’re more like smile lines, really. She spreads red lipstick over her lips and smiles. She’s the Joker from Batman. The smile is all wrong though. There’s no happy behind the smile.
My heart feels like it might burst. It’s her; it really is her, after all this time.
It’s my mother.
I want to say something but I can’t. Back then I used to watch her in silence as she sat for hours examining her expression. I should’ve told her how beautiful she looked. She always looked beautiful to me – in a frozen and distant type of way – like an ice princess.
Life is full of should haves.
I feel something brush up against my leg. It’s Bandage.
“Hey, Bandage!” I reach down and scratch his head. Bandage was my cat. Poor cat got hit by a car on a day my dad left the front door open to grab the phone. A piece of my heart breaks off as I bend down to scratch his head.
Mom wipes red lipstick off her teeth and tries another smile. The looks are her movie star poses. They’re the looks that, at one time, made her famous.
The sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway, headed my direction. I forgot what the sound of Dad’s heavy steps sounded like on our house’s wood floors back when he was so full of life. The sound thud, thud, thuds down the hall. I cross my arms in front of myself protectively.
His eyes narrow when he sees me standing outside Mom’s room. “Farrah, you should be in bed. What are you doing up still?”