The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2019
Page 41
MADDIE: [Muffled.] Mom, shut up. [Clear.] Anyway, it’s all good here. Thanks again for dropping me off at the airport.
FEMALE VOICE: Invite her too. Have her come with you when it’s time.
MADDIE: Mom, stop.
FEMALE VOICE: [Close to microphone.] Come for Christmas!
VOICE: End of message.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 7.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: Dear ethnography diary, or whatever this is now. Am I a terrible person? All signs currently point to yes.
I have, at this point, moved beyond Facebook-stalking my outlier—listen, that was her joke at first, not mine, and I think there’s a three-month minimum before you can actually call someone your girlfriend. Point is, I’ve moved past casually Facebook-stalking Maddie and into deep Facebook stalking.
I wanted to look at pictures of Maddie as a kid. I just did, okay, I stand by that, I stand by my own weirdness, because, yeah, when I say it like that, it makes me sound like a weirdo. But hopefully a romantic weirdo. Anyway. So I dug through Maddie’s Facebook looking for pictures and couldn’t find any picture of her pre-2009. Nothing. And, like, I don’t know, maybe she was an ugly teenager or something or wanted to do an online makeover. But there’s not even pictures that her friends had posted.
And, like, because I was bored on the Internet, and because I’m a jerk, I went and searched for [garbled], her hometown, and I couldn’t even find it. And that’s where it stops being sort of jerky and starts being kind of stalkery, because then I actually went to the library and looked in an atlas and still couldn’t find it. Nothing.
[13 seconds of ambient silence. A siren passes nearby. It fades into the soft noise of birdsong, barely audible.]
NITA: I don’t know why, but this feels like . . . a red flag? Yeah. And if it was anybody else, I’d probably ghost. Block her number, stop answering her texts. I should have renamed my project: autoethnography of a ghost. Wait, no. A ghoster? I dunno. But, like, I’ve ghosted everyone that came before Maddie, and usually for similar stupid-ass reasons. Except for my high school girlfriend, because you can’t really ghost someone that you had four classes with, although trust me, I tried.
[12 seconds of ambient silence. Nita sighs. Her breath has weight.]
NITA: This is the most masturbatory thing I’ve ever done as an artist. Except for that time I pretended to masturbate onstage. Ugh. Nita out.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 8.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Garbled.]
MADDIE: —boutique hotel, and I swear to God, they, like, origami the pillowcases and towels.
NITA: In Anacortes?
MADDIE: Yeah. It’s weird going there in the off-season, but we had a good time.
NITA: You didn’t go to your mom’s place at all?
MADDIE: . . . I don’t really like going to [garbled].
NITA: Still, it seems weird to go all the way out there for Thanksgiving and not even, like, go to your mom’s house.
[. . .]
NITA: Sorry. That came out—
MADDIE: No, I know it’s—
NITA: Really didn’t mean to sound that . . . that . . .
MADDIE: Judgey. You sounded judgey.
NITA: Shit. I’m not judging you. I’m not, really. I’m just, like—you make me intensely curious, and I’m trying to, like. Curb that. But it’s hard.
MADDIE: Thanks. I think.
NITA: I just think you’re super-interesting, and I know it’s super dorky, but I—I really like you. And I want to know you.
[. . .]
NITA: Look, is this still about the ethnography? Because I promise that I—
MADDIE: I don’t need you to promise anything, okay? That’s not what I’m asking for.
[Ambient noise. Chairs shifting on the linoleum, someone’s fingers tapping nervously on the tabletop. The kitchen table sounds like it has gotten larger, stretching to a gulf between them.]
NITA: You could. Ask me to. I’d promise . . . shit, Maddie, I’d promise you a lot.
[Chair scraping.]
NITA: [Closer to microphone.] Ask me to promise you something.
MADDIE: [Hoarse, soft.] I don’t care if you . . . if you’re curious, okay? I don’t care if you dig up everything. But you can’t ask me about it, okay? It’s hard enough, keeping—
[them]
MADDIE: —it all out of my head.
NITA: Okay. I won’t ask you.
[Sound of kissing.]
[. . .]
[Time is running out.]
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 9.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Traffic. Voices. The subtle rumble of an underground train. Sparrows and starlings squawking. Bicycle bells.]
MADDIE: So I’ve discovered how to make voice recordings on my phone. I guess that makes this a self-ethnography. Or something. Maybe it’s just a confession? Whatever. This is weird. I don’t know how you do this, Nita. I don’t know if I’m going to send you this.
[23 seconds of ambient noise and birdsong.]
MADDIE: I’m not supposed to—I told you that I can’t talk about this. I’m not supposed to say anything about [garbled] or what happened to . . .
[Don’t]
MADDIE: They stick in my throat, even now, even here. I’m in Daley Plaza because it’s the farthest place I can think of from, from the woods, from . . .
[13 seconds of ambient noise. The sound of birds intensifies.]
[say their names.]
MADDIE: Nita, you think I want you to give this up because it’s too personal. I don’t. I want you to keep going because it’s personal. It’s been four years since I left and it’s getting harder to stay away, and harder to . . .
[Maddie coughs harshly.]
MADDIE: I . . .
[The sound of birds and coughing intensifies.]
[Time is . . .]
MALE VOICE: Miss? Miss? Are you okay?
MADDIE: [Hoarse] I’m fine. Thanks, I’m fine.
MALE VOICE: Are you sure? You want me to—
MADDIE: [Stronger.] Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for—
[Come home.]
MALE VOICE: What was that?
MADDIE: I said that I’m fine.
[Come home.]
[Footsteps.]
[Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come home.][Come
[End of recording.]
Entry 10.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
MADDIE: Can’t believe you never heard about this, you’re the one who’s always carrying this thing around.
NITA: Uh, maybe, but they didn’t cover ghost-hunting in Sound Engineering for Dummies.
MADDIE: It’s not just for ghosts, it’s for . . . I dunno. Anything that might have something to say.
NITA: So people just leave the recorder running and . . . wait?
MADDIE: Leave it in an empty room and see what might be willing to speak.
NITA: Spoopy shit.
MADDIE: I’m a spoopy girl.
NITA: I know. I like it. Spoopy outlier girl.
[Maddie laughs; the sound of it is thin, brittle.]
NITA: Now what?
MADDIE: Now we leave it. Come back later and see if anything decided to leave us a message.
[Footsteps.]
NITA: Like a voicemail for ghosts.
MADDIE: Not just ghosts.
NITA: Like “4:33” for the spirit world.
MADDIE: Like what?
[A door closes.]
NITA: [Fainter] What? Have you never heard of—[inaudible]
[1:25:21 of ambient silence.]
[A bird calls, a harsh whistle. So loud that it might be inside the room.]
[43:57 of stati
c.]
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 11.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Static.]
MADDIE: Hi, this is Nita Rosen, coming to you live from the bedroom where I just fucked my girlfriend before trying to unconvincingly tell her that—
NITA: Oh my God, would you—
MADDIE: That! I, like, totally don’t want to go to her mom’s house for Christmas.
NITA: I do not sound like that.
MADDIE: Despite the fact that it gives me the perfect opportunity to dig up all kinds of dirt about her, which is the only reason I’ve stayed with this freak show this long. Stay tuned. This is NPR.
NITA: Are you done?
MADDIE: Oh, fuck no. Let me get my Terry Gross voice on. So why the sudden flip-flop, Nita? Were you getting too close to your subject? Sorry, your outlier? Sudden crisis of conscience, or did you just get bored and want—
NITA: Can you please turn it off?
MADDIE: Oh, no. I want this on the record.
NITA: I found out who Emily is.
[9 seconds of silence. No ambient noise at all.]
[Don’t say her name.]
MADDIE: [Whispering.] Don’t say her name.
[End of recording.]
Entry 12.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: One teen missing, another in critical condition after car crash in [garbled]. Underage drinking suspected as factor. The totaled car was found off Old Coach Highway in—
[4 seconds of static.]
NITA: —damage to the front and side of the car. Magdalena Lanuza, eighteen, was found in the car, several hours after the crash. The car fell from Old Coach Highway into a gully thirty feet below the road. Lanuza claims she was accompanied by eighteen-year-old Emily Longham, who is still missing. In a statement, Emily Longham’s mother, Abigail, said she believes her daughter is still out there. I’d know it if she were truly gone, she told reporters. The sheriff’s office has organized a search party. Those interested in volunteering are encouraged to call the number listed below. When asked if they were looking for—
[2 seconds of static; harsh, unyielding, angry.]
NITA: —or a body, the sheriff’s department gave no comment.
[11 seconds of ambient silence and static. She’s weighing the past four months with what she knows now. She’s thinking of long, ropy scars that rake across Maddie’s spine.]
NITA: And that’s it. No follow-up, as far as I can see. One girl nearly dies and another disappears, you’d assume that a small-town paper would be brooding on this shit for weeks, right? But there’s nothing else online at all. No Facebook pictures, no memorials of this girl. I can’t even find her parents. So here’s the thing: this is really obviously a trauma that’s in Maddie’s past, and it looks so much more interesting than it did when I first saw those scars. And I want to find out more and I fucking hate that I do. I hate myself for looking at Maddie and seeing a . . .
[An outlier.]
NITA: I don’t know what to do besides walk away from it. From all of it. She deserves someone who’s not a . . . flaky weirdo artist with a voice diary. I . . .
[Don’t.]
NITA: I don’t know.
[Don’t make her go alone.]
NITA: I don’t know what to do.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 13.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: You have reached seven seven three [garbled]. Please leave your message after the tone.
[3 seconds of silence. Nita—]
[Static.]
NITA: Hey, it’s me. I’m—I don’t like how we ended things last night. I want to . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry. Just give me a call.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 14.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: You have reached seven seven three [garbled]. Please leave your message after the tone.
NITA: Yeah actually, I do know what I want. I want you. I don’t know what that means in the context of you and this thing about your home and—
[Don’t say her name.]
NITA: —and what happened to you. And I don’t know what you want, or why it’s suddenly really fucking important for you to go to the creepy town that you’ve been avoiding for five years and for me to go with you, but, like. Okay. I don’t know. I wish you would have picked up the phone so I could actually say this to you and not your—
VOICE: If you would like to hear your message, please press—
NITA: God DAMN it.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 15.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: December. Second. Two thousand thirteen. Voicemail from phone number seven seven three [garbled].
MADDIE: Hey. It’s me. I . . .
[Static.]
[4 seconds of silence.]
MADDIE: Sorry, there’s something weird going on with this connection. So, like, here’s the point. You’re still invited for Christmas. If you want to go. I want you with me. I don’t want to be alone when—
[Static. Angry, electric buzzing. A high, sweet whistle.]
MADDIE: —pick up. If you call me I’ll pick up.
[. . .]
[End of recorded material.]
[Sorry.]
Entry 16.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Car engine.]
NITA: Wow, it really is . . .
MADDIE: Creepy? Dark?
NITA: Isolated. I was gonna say isolated, but yeah, those other things too. You really did grow up in the sticks. Jesus, these roads are terrifying.
MADDIE: It’s not the roads you have to worry about.
[. . .]
NITA: What the hell did you just say?
MADDIE: I said you don’t have to worry about the roads.
NITA: That’s . . . That’s not—
MADDIE: Listen to me, okay? You’ll be safe here. You’re a stranger here and that’s the best thing you can be.
NITA: What does that even mean? I thought this was just a family visit!
MADDIE: You know it’s more than that. What you need to know now— [Coughs.]
[Coughing continues.]
MADDIE: [Choking.] Just be prepared, okay? I . . .
NITA: Maddie, what’s wrong? Jesus, Maddie—
[Gravel under the wheels, a clunk as the gear shifts into park. Maddie’s breath is labored, whistling high in her throat.]
NITA: What is this, what’s wrong? Are you having an asthma attack or something?
MADDIE: [Hoarse.] It’s fine. I wish— [Coughs.]
[They are only half a mile from the road where Maddie’s car accident occurred.]
[They are a tiny beacon of light in dark, quiet hills.]
[They don’t feel the gaze of those who are watching.]
NITA: Should I drive? These roads are scary as fuck, but I can drive.
[A door opens. Birdsong and rain. Maddie’s breath smooths out.]
NITA: Here, do you want some water?
[. . .]
NITA: We don’t have to stay at your mom’s house. We can go back to Lyndon, or even Anacortes. Fuck it, we can go back to Seattle if you—
MADDIE: [Hoarse.] No. I’m all right. We’re here now, we might as well . . . Might as well finish the trip.
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 17.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: So. Here I am. Maddie’s mom, Evie, is super-nice. Her house is really pretty, up on the side of a mountain. There’s a creek nearby. Lots of woods and moss, as promised. It’s seriously in the middle of nowhere, though. I’m not sure what I was imagining, but . . . I’d originally thought that I could, like, do some detective work while I was here. This is so embarrassing, and it’s so obvious that I watched way too much TV. But I imagined myself, like, going into town and talking to the old dudes who
’d be drinking coffee, and they’d be unfriendly and I’d charm them into telling me how—
[Sharp, squealing burst of static.]
NITA: What the fuck was that?
[. . .]
NITA: Weird.
[Time is running out.]
NITA: But Maddie was right, there’s not really a town here. There is a gas station, which is also the post office and a hardware store. And I guess it’s a movie store too, since they had this, like, bucket of DVDs you could rent for a few dollars each. Maddie said there’s a couple churches too, but they’re like, Children of the Corn meets Deliverance, you could not fucking pay me enough to step foot in one. I didn’t even realize that we’d passed through the town until we hit a dirt road and it got even more woodsy.
[. . .]
NITA: Maddie—
[Nita starts to cough.]
[The sound of the wind. The sound of birds in the trees.]
[End of recorded material.]
Entry 18.
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: Okay, the timestamp is uh, 8:03. Morning of December 23rd. I’m, uh, I’m interviewing Evie Lanuza, mother of Maddie. [Clears throat.] Though I’m . . . not sure why?
EVIE: Well, my daughter told me about your project.
NITA: My project? Oh, sh— She did? Okay. Uh. What did she tell you exactly?
EVIE: Just that you were interested in where she’d grown up, this little town, and you know. What happened to her.
NITA: [Laughs.] Yeah, that, uh. That’s basically it, yeah.
EVIE: So what exactly do you want to know, Nita?