Shimmer

by Matthew Keith

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  “Alex,” Dad whispered urgently. “Alex, wake up.”

  Alex opened his left eyelid a fraction of an inch and squinted at the clock.

  “Its 4:30 in the morning, are you freaking kidding me?” he groaned. He covered his head with a pillow.

  “Alex,” Dad pressed, his voice louder. The bedside lamp came on.

  Alex knew he was going to have to get up. His dad wasn’t someone who took no for an answer, but that didn’t mean he had to make it easy on the old man. “Dad,” he moaned. “Seriously. You don’t have to do this right now, not this early. I still have to go to school and learn stuff. This is borderline child abuse.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  Even as annoyed as he was at being woken up two hours early, the kindness and love in his father’s voice made its way in and tugged at his heart strings. Alex sighed theatrically and peeked out from under his pillow. He turned his head like it weighed a thousand pounds and blew out a loud, resigned sigh.

  It was no surprise that his dad had woke him up early. Today was special. He hadn’t forgotten.

  “Do we really have to do this now?” Alex groused, propping himself up on his elbows.

  Of course they did. Dad was always up before the sun and usually didn’t come home from work until well after it set. Sometimes Alex wondered if his father ever slept at all.

  Dad was kneeling next to the bed. Carefully, he placed a small box wrapped with a yellow ribbon on the mattress near Alex’s pillow. The gift had become a yearly tradition. It wasn’t Alex’s birthday, but the day held just as much meaning.

  More, in fact.

  This day wasn’t about acknowledging when a life had joined the family, it was about acknowledging when one had left. It was the anniversary of the day his mom had disappeared, six years ago. A day that had changed their lives forever.

  From Alex’s bedside, Dad offered a thin smile, reaching out and smoothing back his son’s wild, unruly, black hair. Alex was his world, the only remaining link to a family he thought he’d have forever. And although sometimes the teenager in Alex didn’t always show it, Dad knew his son felt the same for him. Their relationship had always been strong, but after Mom’s disappearance the bond had become unbreakable.

  The loss of his wife could easily have caused Dad to become sour and bitter with self-pity, but instead he’d borne the loss with dignity. He carried with him the faith that the world still contained more goodness than evil, and constantly reminded his son that he felt that way. Alex gave thanks every day for that, even if he was unable to match his father’s grace. For Alex, the anger at their circumstances always simmered just beneath the surface, even on the best of days.

  But it was them against the world, and they’d held up well so far. Deep in Alex’s heart of hearts he hoped that one day he would be able to move past his loss and become the kind of man his father was.

  Dad was good at helping him along, good at showing him there was still more life to live even though something so precious had been taken away. The anniversary of Mom’s disappearance and the yearly gift was just one of the many ways Dad taught him to stay strong, to have faith, and always place family before all else.

  They had never given up on Mom—she was out there somewhere, she had to be. There wasn’t a day that went by which Alex didn’t see his Dad look up hopefully when he heard a car door close or the doorbell ring.

  Alex’s father believed she’d be back. And because he believed it, Alex did too. For them, there was no other option except to hold to that belief. They’d discussed it. At length. Often. Mom hadn’t abandoned them—she’d vanished, and they both knew it.

  There’d been no packed bags, no note. All of her belongings were where she’d left them and there hadn’t been any money missing from the bank. No sign of foul play. No ransom, no signs of forced entry. Her car had still been parked in its spot at a testing facility in the desert. It was like she had driven out there and then suddenly she just—

  Wasn’t.

  Disappeared into thin air.

  Privately, Alex was sure that somehow, some way, someone had coerced her into leaving. She would never have gone, not without telling him. Not without at least saying goodbye. For it to happen so abruptly with no sign of why, there had to have been someone she knew and trusted involved. Someone had either convinced her to leave or she had been taken.

  Because he held strongly to that belief, Alex found it difficult to trust anyone. People, in general, were all suspect in his eyes. If it could happen to his mom, it could happen to him too. For all he knew, it was someone he saw every single day who was responsible for what had happened to his mother.

  He never shared those fears and suspicions with his father. He didn’t want Dad to worry—the man had enough on his plate already.

  Dad smiled from the bedside, his heart in his eyes. “Six years,” he said.

  This was their ritual. Each year, Dad would wake him up before heading to the lab and give him a gift. It usually wasn’t anything specifically to do with his mom—last year it had been a baseball mitt—but the day was important to both of them and Dad never missed it. Each year after giving the gift, he would say the same thing.

  “Yeah,” Alex replied, not smiling. He looked down at his mattress. “Six years.” He’d been eleven when she’d gone. Remembering that day, there was no way he could smile. He didn’t have it in him. Might as well nominate him for homecoming king, it was about as likely. The days after he realized she was no longer going to be part of his life were ingrained into his memory as the most miserable time he’d ever endured.

  His father didn’t remark on his somber look. He understood.

  Inside the gift box was a NanoPhone, the hottest thing on the market right now and advertised as the latest and greatest in gadgetry.

  It was a very expensive gift, but Alex knew his dad probably hadn’t even looked at the price tag. In Alex’s lifetime, money had never been an issue for their family. His parents were the founders of EMIT, Electro-Magnetic Impulse Technologies, a research company primarily funded through government grants. For over twenty years, EMIT had been on the cutting edge of electronic innovation. In fact, at one point in the late nineties it was estimated that sixty-two percent of all military-grade technology had originated with them.

  “I really hope you love it, son,” Dad said, nudging the NanoPhone with a finger. “I already moved your contacts over.” He forced a weak grin. “It’ll make everyone at school jealous. Chicks dig guys with cool toys. They tell me ‘geek’ is the new sexy.”

  Alex snorted. He knew his Dad was trying to make him smile, but he’d struck a chord. If geek was the new sexy, Alex must be the least geeky guy in school. He only had one friend, and he was sure no girl had ever looked at him twice. He didn’t feel sorry for himself, it’s just the way it was, and he could honestly say he really didn’t care. The people in his hometown of Beaver, Utah just plain sucked as far as he was concerned. They could take their opinions of him and his family and shove them right where it hurt.

  In the beginning, right after his mother disappeared, everyone in town had been wonderful, sympathetic, and kind, even going so far as to bring over dinners for him and his dad. Anything we can do, that’s what they’d all said.

  Both his parents were minor celebrities in Beaver. Over the years they’d often been in the news for EMIT’s many technological advances. They’d done talk shows and even shaken hands with a few presidents. Three of them, to be exact. Their business was the town’s largest employer, which made their success the town’s success. Alex’s family was the backbone of the community, at least back then they were.

  When word got out that his mother was missing, camera crews and reporters swarmed the town. Alex and his father ended up needing a police escort everywhere they went to keep from being bombarded by the paparazzi.

  After a week, though, when nothing changed, the story became old news and the rep
orters and camera crews lost interest. Soon they forgot about Alex’s mom completely.

  But Beaver, Utah didn’t.

  Parents started to talk around dinner tables, speculating on what might really have happened. Their kids, in turn, began talking in school, twisting the words of their parents in the way kids are so good at doing. Soon the running story was that Alex’s mom had left home for another man, and soon after that Alex began hearing whispers that his mom cared more about spending time with her new boyfriend than taking care of her son. Foul words were used when people described her.

  Alex started getting into fights, withdrawing further and further from the people he used to think were his friends. Time went by, new classmates moved into the area, and pretty soon no one remembered why Alex withdrew from them in the first place.

  After years of sequestering himself from everyone, his classmates simply believed Alex thought he was better than the rest of them because his family was rich. But of course it wasn’t that, and Alex didn’t feel he should have to explain himself.

  Six years later, after coping with something as impossible as his mother’s disappearance, relating to the insipidity of high school life was almost laughable. It felt like serving time for a crime he never committed. Sure, there were things to be learned, but he could just as easily learn them through a home school program. The cliques, the ridiculous expectation that you dress in the latest fashion, the repercussions if you didn’t, the right way to talk, the right things to eat, who and what to like—it was all so pointless.

  Dad said school was good for him. He said it gave Alex a chance to interact socially, but Alex didn’t see the point in that either. If he wanted to be social, he’d go out and make friends. Having it forced on him wasn’t teaching him to be social. It was teaching him to co-exist.

  As for the NanoPhone, Alex needed another gadget like he needed another year of high school. He had a drawer full of electronic gizmos, half of which he’d never touched. But he knew his dad was just trying to be nice. Dad said he’d already moved his contacts over to the NanoPhone. He just had to hope the old man was smart enough to have moved over his music, too.

  It really wasn’t about the gift. His dad gave him something on this day as much for himself as for Alex. Dad needed the reminder, a tangible act to keep the memory of his wife alive. Alex would use the phone, if for no other reason than that.

  “You know your mom loved you so much,” Dad told him. “And if she did, that must mean you’re something really special, because she’s the smartest woman I ever met.”

  Those were the words Dad said every single year, so Alex knew what was coming next. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes, but for his dad he tried to look nostalgic.

  “Do you remember what she used to call you when she chased you around the house?”

  “I remember.” The hint of a smile played across his lips for the first time. That memory—it got him every time, which was almost certainly why his father always asked it. “Flash,” Alex said. “Like Flash Gordon, because she could never catch me, and it was your favorite movie when you two were in college.”

  Dad grinned, his eyes glimmering wetly. “That’s right. Flash.” He firmly pressed the phone into Alex’s hand. “This is a special day, and that’s a special phone. You’re special. Don’t lose it, it was hard to find.” Dad pressed his lips together. “I could never have done so much without you, Alex. I’m so proud of you.”

  Dad was talking about the research work they did together at the lab, but Alex had never really done anything and he knew it. He loved spending time at EMIT, but he was usually completely lost when his dad tried explaining any of the research that was done there. For Alex, it wasn’t about the work. It was about spending time with his workaholic, results-obsessed father. That, and having an excuse to stay away from the people who were supposed to be his peers. Any extra time at school usually ended up in a fist-fight or argument.

  And besides, Alex knew the lab was the only other thing that his father held sacred in his life. His mother and father had co-founded the place before Alex was born, and Alex knew it reminded Dad of Mom. It was good for his soul to spend time there.

  Dad reached an arm under Alex’s shoulders and lifted him into a hug. Surprised, Alex felt the warm wetness of tears when his dad pressed up against his cheek. Dad never cried. Not even when Mom had disappeared.

  “I love you, buddy,” Dad said into his shoulder, “Never forget that.” He clutched Alex tighter. “I love you so much.”

  Confused by the strength of his dad’s emotion, Alex hugged him back, a little alarmed but not sure how to react.

  “I love you too, Dad,” he answered.