Authors: Amy Kinzer
Now I just hope I can get back and I didn’t change too much.
I’m a potential Party member. I’ll rule the country. I’m a different person.
***
The List says 11:00 AM at the corner of Thornton Drive and 87
th
Ave. I have the ePrivacy device embedded under my thumbnail and the data I saved taped into the cuff of my pants. My research tells me it will make it through the vortex.
It’s the only way I’ll be safe.
Dad’s at the table reading the paper. He says, “Good morning, Rick,” but he doesn’t look up.
“Hi, Dad.” There’s so much I want to say to him. But I don’t have time to talk. I need to make an escape.
“Going out for the morning?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll see you when you get back then.”
“Sure, Dad, sure.”
***
I run down the street. It’s 10:58. It’s taking longer than I thought. I take deep breaths and focus. I need to make the slide. If I miss the slide the next one is in eighteen hours and then too much will change. If too much changes I won’t be able to go back.
I run faster. The air burns my lungs. My legs shake. I’m not an athlete. One look at me and anyone could tell I’m not a marathon runner.
My watch beeps. It’s 11:00. I pull the Slider out of my pocket and turn the dial. The air blurs on the corner of Thornton Drive and 87
th
Ave. The Slider’s readout turns green. I run faster. I’m sprinting. The waves in the air begin to fade. I’m running out of time.
I pump my arms and jump into the waves.
The world blurs around me. The vortex sucks me through time. My arm is ten feet long, my hand waves in the distance and I’m worried it’s pulling away from my body.
I travel to the present.
***
“Welcome back, Rick.” It’s Dr. Thompson. He’s standing in the middle of the desert, surrounded by my classmates. “Congratulations. You are the first. Follow me. We have a lot to discuss.”
The world is a haze. It’s almost like the vortexes are all around us. It’s the Slider that allows me to see them. I’m the first person that really knows. I follow Dr. Thompson to the bus.
The cool air is a welcome relief.
We put on our blindfolds and head back to the hotel.
And when I’m sure no one is looking I examine the cuff of my pants.
It made it through.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Matt
I can’t believe Rick entered the vortex. He was there and then he was gone.
Poof.
Just like that.
I can’t believe it worked. He came back in one piece. But there’s something different about him. He hasn’t admitted it, but I can tell. Something’s changed.
It’s almost my turn. I’ll follow Rick’s footsteps. The only difference is I won’t be coming back.
Everyone’s gone off to bed. No surprise everyone’s tired: stress and the heat of the day do that. The desert is quiet and dark. I look out the window at the casino lights glittering in the distance. I imagine vacationers drinking cocktails and placing money on the table for one more chance at luck. The lights are filled with dreams and wishes, hopes for a change. The Strip is a place for misplaced optimism. The people in this town have no idea what happens on the upper level floors of Winn Hotel.
My stomach is in knots and adrenalin pumps through my veins. I take deep breaths and try to count sheep. I need to try to sleep, but nothing happens.
I give up on trying to sleep and head to the common area.
Farrah’s sitting on a couch, covered with a blanket, her eyes on the TV. Always on the TV. She does this every night. I can tell Farrah’s trying hard to hold onto her past. It’s an unhealthy obsession.
Like I have room to talk.
“Hey.” I walk into the room and sit on the couch across from Farrah. In the dim light from the TV I see her face redden. Farrah doesn’t need to be embarrassed around me for watching her mother over and over.
She picks up the remote control and stops the DVD. The evening news comes on.
“You don’t have to do that.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m done watching it. My dad’s always saying I shouldn’t watch it all the time. He acts like I have some kind of problem. He thinks I should just move on.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with watching your mom’s movies. She was a great actress. If you’re going to watch something, you might as well watch your mom, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The news plays in the background. A body was found shot behind a casino on the Strip. A blond newscaster with burned skin who looks like she spent the day baking in the Nevada sun interviews the person who found the body. It’s a security guard for the Party. The interviewee looks excited. Like the fact that he found a body will make him famous.
Like death is something to strive for.
“You can turn the movie back on; it’s better than the news.”
She picks up the remote, presses play, and her mother is back with us.
Farrah’s watching
Taxi Driver
. It’s my favorite movie of her mother’s. Her mom reminds me of a discount version of Farrah Fawcet. Maybe being too much like someone else is what hurt her career.
Farrah smiles when her mom walks into the room. The smile tells me the real reason she decided to spend the summer at IYD. But I want to hear her say it.
“So has Lisa given you instructions on what to do when you go back?” I’m not sure if I should ask. But I feel like I can trust Farrah. And I hope she knows she can trust me.
Farrah jumps, like she forgot I’m still in the room. “Yeah,” she says. Her voice is sheepish. Like she’s afraid to share the date.
“When are you going back?”
“The week Mom died.”
I nod my head without saying anything. I don’t want to freak her out or scare her away. Farrah’s like a porcelain doll; if you drop her, she’ll break.
She turns away from the TV screen for the first time and examines me from across the darkened room. She’s really seeing me for once. Not looking off in the distance, searching for what’s no longer still there.
“You?”
It surprises me she’d ask. “That night, you know, the night of the accident. Lisa only wants me there for the evening. She figures once the accident doesn’t take place then I’m golden.”
She nods her head. Like she knew all along but was just asking for the sake of politeness, if there is such a thing in this world anymore.
“How do you feel about reliving all that again?”
It’s an honest question. Why would a guy want to relive the worst day of his life? But she doesn’t know that I’m always reliving it, that I have an inescapable reel playing the images on the back of my eyelids, forcing me to look at the blood covering the interior of my car. The smell of brakes and vomit burns my nose. The screeching of the brakes and the screams rattle in my ears. The silence that follows.
I can barely stand it.
It’s all there and I can’t escape. I don’t have a choice.
That night ended my life.
Fate stole the wrong person.
And I can’t tell her I’m not planning on coming back. If I admit that they won’t let me go. I’m here to be a member of the Party. Nothing more.
And I have to go.
I shrug. “The Party won’t allow me to become a member unless I go back and fix that night. And I want to fix that night. I’d do anything to fix what happened.”
She gives me a look like she’s trying to read what’s going on inside my head, that by looking at me that way, she’ll know if I’m hiding anything.
“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.