I used the car’s Bluetooth to answer the call. “Hey, Zoe, sorry I didn’t call yet.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Cloud Lake. You know, for the story,” I said.
“I know that… why are you there? I know I played it off like no big deal the other night when we spoke, but after you hung up, I got to thinking. This is bad news, Jess.”
“Eva,” I muttered.
I could hear Zoe rolling her eyes. “Goddamn it, Jess… Eva. I mean it. If you don’t remember that week, let me remind you: Dad and I do. We remember the search party, the helicopters, the police dogs, the eventual arrest. Then…”
“There I was. I know, Zoe,” I told her calmly. “Believe me, that time affects me every single day of my life, with every action I take, with every interaction with people, so don’t tell me how it affected you.”
Zoe didn’t respond right away, and I feared I’d scared her off. “I know. I’m sorry, Eva. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… you were so frightened and messed up. What happened to you was terrible.”
I cut her off, tears threatening to roll down my cheeks. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Zoe.”
The line stayed silent for a moment before Zoe spoke again; this time, there was mirth in her tone. “So have you seen Clark? Did he turn out to be a beer-bellied ditch digger like you thought?”
I hadn’t thought that, but I could imagine my sister, happily married with wonderful children, wanting to know what happened to some boy she’d kissed so long ago. “He’s here,” I told her.
“Like in the car?” she sputtered.
“No, you crazy woman, he’s still in town. I think he’s a plumber,” I said.
“Have you… talked to him?” Zoe asked.
“Why would… No, I haven’t talked to him. What would I have to say to him?” There was so much Zoe didn’t know about the days leading up to my abduction, and I wasn’t about to tell her. It would only make her upset with herself, and it was a long time ago.
“Is he…?”
“Good-looking? You might say that.” I thought about those eyes, and the smile, and shook my head, trying to erase the childish crush I used to have.
“How’s the story going?” Zoe asked.
“Good. You remember the lights?” I asked, not needing to explain further.
“Sure. Some kids pulled a prank the same night you went missing. It was all over the paper and town,” Zoe said. Only then, my disappearance had trumped the news about a silly UFO sighting. I wondered why Carly wasn’t attracting more press. It was like no one knew she was gone.
I took a risk. “I’m not so sure it was a prank.”
“What are you talking about? God, not this again. What’s with you and this alien abduction fascination? The lights had nothing to do with you,” she said.
“I know.” I’d seen the evidence, read the court reports, even as an adult. But there was something to these sightings, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“Jess.” She said my real name, and I didn’t correct her this time. “Be careful there. That place has a lot darker secrets than you’d think. Grandma felt so secure, and look what was right next door to her,” Zoe pleaded. I heard voices shouting for her, and she sighed before telling them to go outside to play.
“You sound like you have a full plate. I don’t want to keep you,” I said to my sister.
“Do me a favor?” Zoe’s voice was firm.
“Anything.”
“Phone me Thursday. It can be for five minutes. I want to know you’re okay,” she said.
“Deal. Talk then.” I ended the call with the press of a button on the steering wheel, and heard the church entrance door open. I quickly maneuvered before the man could make it to his car. “Pastor Donnelly, can I have a moment?”
He stopped short of the Cadillac and appraised me, his thick fingers intertwining around his protruding stomach. His mustache wavered as he addressed my question. “Sure. What can I do for you?”
It was hot out, and I saw beads of sweat push from his tall forehead. “I’m hoping to speak with a woman from Sunday’s service. She was beside Mrs. Miller, consoling her.”
“And what do you need to speak with her about?” The pastor’s voice told me he wasn’t so quick to sell his congregation’s information.
I didn’t think the truth would work on him, so I made up a lie. I’d planned it the night before, and it flowed out smoothly. “I accidentally bumped into her car after the service, and I went inside to find her. When I came out, she was gone, and the last people here didn’t seem to know who I was talking about,” I said with expressive eyes and guilt in my voice.
“You could have left a note with me,” he said.
“I didn’t think of it. I’ve never scratched someone’s car like that, and I was flustered. It was so hot, and that poor little girl is gone. It’s a trying time for the community,” I said.
He was glancing over at my car, as if trying to inspect where my damage was on it. “Are you new to town?” he asked.
“Yes.” I told him I lived in Grandma’s house, using her address, and he didn’t flinch, not that I expected him to.
“Good. I hope you enjoyed the sermon the other day.”
I nodded.
“That woman is Maddie Lawson. She works at the town library, and I anticipate that’s where she is at this moment,” Pastor Donnelly told me. He went for his car and glanced back at me. “I hope to see you Sunday, Miss…”
“Heart. Eva Heart,” I said, digging my nails into my palms.
He drove off, leaving me alone in the parking lot. That settled that. At least I knew where to find my target now. It was off to the library, but first, I had to get some groceries for my dinner date. Date. The word wasn’t one I used often, and it felt weird even thinking about it.
I wondered at John’s intentions. Had he invited me over to be kind to a visitor? Or had he anticipated something more? I’d met him at church, so that gave me hope that he wasn’t going to try to make a move tonight. But if he did, would it be such a bad thing?
I was in the car, driving into town, and I pictured myself at the small table in the cabin, hosting John; only when I saw the man with me, poking at a piece of salmon, it was Clark’s face looking back at me.
“Let it go, Jess,” I told myself, realizing I’d used my old name only after I’d said it aloud.
I had to be more careful.
The library was right off Main Street, and I mentally marked it as I kept moving toward the grocery store, parking beside the building. It was smaller than I remembered it, and before I turned the car off, I thought back to the day after my fishing trip with Dad.
July 11th – 2001
Zoe and I parked our bikes outside the market and stepped onto the big rubber mat that set the automated sliding doors off. Zoe stomped down with her Skechers, trying to get the door to work, but it wouldn’t open.
Someone left through the manual door on the other side, and I ran to it, catching the door before it closed behind the man. “This way,” I said.
The store smelled off today, and it was hot and muggy. It was obvious they were having some issues with their power. There was no air conditioning, and when I looked through the door, I saw the big blue power company van skid into the parking lot, like they were on a deadly mission to prevent any more ice cream from melting.
“Do you think this means the slushies are down?” I asked, Zoe who gave me a light punch on the arm.
“You could stand to skip the sugar one day in your life.” She winked, and even though the words were mean, I knew she didn’t intend any harm behind them. It was just her way, and I loved that she gave me that kind of hard-to-please attitude.
The store was busy. It was mid-afternoon, and everyone was trying to get prepared for dinner. This week was busy in Cloud Lake. You couldn’t step outside without smelling roasting hot dogs or barbecue burgers. Or hearing kids playing as
they chased each other with water guns and splashed into the lake. I loved it here. There was something special about this summer, and I was soaking it all in. It was partly because of Grandma’s condition, partly because Dad and I had grown a little closer, and Zoe and I were still besties, even when I thought she might try to pry away from her smaller sis.
There was more to it as well, but I didn’t quite understand what it was. Then I saw him. Clark was in the snack aisle, loading a cart up with an assortment of sunflower seeds, chips, pop, and hot dogs with matching buns. He spotted me and locked eyes, giving me a wave.
Zoe was there in an instant. “Oh, hi, Clark.” She stepped around me, moving with the efficiency of a jungle cat stalking her prey.
“Hey, Zoe. What are you guys doing here?” he asked.
“Got tired of tanning in my bikini, so I thought I’d bring the kid sister to town for ice cream.” Zoe’s left foot was planted on her toes, and her hips swayed side to side. I wanted to tell her to shut up, that Clark had seen me first, but I bit my tongue.
Clark reached around her and stuck his hand out. “We didn’t meet. I’m Clark,” he said, and I thought my heart might explode.
I stood there shaking his hand, and Zoe laughed. “This is the part where you tell the nice boy your name.”
“Jess… Jessica,” I said.
“I like it. Nice to meet you finally, Jess… Jessica. What are you guys up to tonight?” he asked casually.
Zoe answered a second later. “We’re coming to your party.” She nodded to the cart full of food.
“Cool. We’re heading to the beach for a bonfire at around eight.” Clark looked around, as if someone might be listening in on our conversation. “Not the beach the tourists know about, the local beach.”
My ears perked up. We’d been coming here for a long time, and I’d never heard of this local beach. “Where is it?” I asked, getting a glare from Zoe, as if I was sucking any potential cool from us by being in their presence.
“I’ll draw you a map.” Clark smiled, grabbing a pen from the bulk food bins behind us. He found a coupon, plucked it from under the bag of chips, and scribbled on it until black ink formed a circle. Then he drew the lake, a path leading from the main road, and marked the beach with an X. “This is it. Eight o’clock. Don’t tell anyone. Especially any adults,” he said with a smirk.
My heart was racing for a multitude of reasons. He was so cute, and I couldn’t put an age on him. He might be as old as seventeen, but he still had that puppy-dog face that might mean he’d grown faster than his years. Luke back home had been like that. I hoped he was fifteen, and that he didn’t mind the idea of kissing a girl a year younger than him. I stood there frozen in time as I watched him talking, not hearing a word, only seeing his lips move.
“We won’t tell. I’ll be there, but I’m not sure Jess can make it. I wouldn’t want her to get into trouble. Curfew and all that,” Zoe said, as if not realizing how badly she was breaking the best friend/sister bond we’d worked so long at forming.
“I’m coming too,” I said, and saw a faint smile form on Clark’s mouth.
“Cool. I better go. Still have to cut a couple yards today. Later,” he said, and pushed the cart away.
When he was out of earshot, Zoe grabbed my arm. “What are you doing? He’s totally into me. Don’t be such a tagalong,” she said, and walked away. It was the first time I’d really felt betrayed by her, and it hurt.
July 13th – 2020
The store was much the same, except the doors worked properly, and it was nice and cool inside as I walked in, feeling like I was entering a time warp. Everything was almost as it had been. The color scheme was dated, the linoleum flooring freshly waxed, but still worn and sun-faded underneath. It smelled like baked bread and roasting chickens inside, and if I closed my eyes, I was in Chelsea at the local market, shopping for my weekend groceries.
“Excuse me,” a woman said after bumping into me. She scurried off, on a mission, carrying a too-full basket of processed foods.
Dinner with John. What to make? I needed something I was confident in preparing, without seeming like I was trying too hard. He’d made sandwiches, but that was kind of an after-church tradition to a lot of people. I walked the aisles, fingers sliding against a row of cans, searching the shelves for ideas. I pulled a few essentials for myself to live on for the next few days: eggs, cream, coffee, bread.
I’d thought about salmon earlier, so salmon it was. I could make a nice risotto with it, so I gathered some Italian rice, fresh peas from the produce section, a lemon, dill, Parmesan, broth, and a bottle of white wine; not too cheap, not too classy. That was something I would have called Zoe when we were kids, and she would have laughed and pretended to be insulted. I missed those times between us, when we were innocent and carefree. Things change; they always do.
I was suddenly bombarded with strange thoughts as I walked toward the check-out. I imagined the lights above Cloud Lake, the sightings, the missing persons, my own history here. What if aliens were real? What if they were drawn to Cloud Lake for some mysterious reason, and they appeared, choosing people to take with them? Abductions. A subject I’d read, watched, and listened about for far too many hours.
I tried to think what would drive them to this area. There were a lot of references to UFOs near farmland, and that was abundant here. Crop circles, cow mutilations, that kind of thing usually came with the reports, but as far as I knew, that wasn’t happening in this circumstance. I believed that most of that was manmade, including Chester Brown’s apparent missing cows. Even after all the years of obsessing over the subject, I was still on the fence. I did believe they were out there, but were they hovering over Cloud Lake? A nowhere semi-tourist town in the middle of nowhere Maine, USA? That was where it didn’t add up.
But there was something to it. There were far less sightings in the big cities. My theory was that if UFOs existed, they probably stayed clear of large populations. Why risk the exposure?
I was next in line, and I settled the basket down. On the magazine stand, surrounded by gum and chocolate bars, I spotted the Unknown paper with an image of a classic UFO: round base, domed top, floating over a field, with a person being beamed up. The headline read: More sightings in Cloud Lake, more missing persons.
The pimply kid at the check-out frowned at me, and I tossed the paper down on the conveyer before adding my few ingredients.
The whole time, I stared at the fake image of the UFO on the paper as it slid by.
Shortly after, the brown bag was settled in my back seat and I headed for the library, knowing I’d need to be quick to keep the fish from spoiling.
The library was old, and I finally recognized that it was once the video store. We’d spent countless hours inside there as kids, arguing over whether we should watch The Lion King again, or an eighties classic like Sixteen Candles. I usually won the battles, Zoe giving in to me, and Dad would sit and watch whatever we wanted, even if we’d seen it a dozen times already. That was how he was. He wanted to be the perfect father to us, and I knew he blamed himself for Mom taking off.
As I parked on the street a half block away, I thought about the time Zoe had made Dad pick a movie to watch. He chose some lawyer movie that had no fewer than three scenes with naked women. He was so embarrassed; that was the last time he let himself pick for movie night.
I brought my bag with my tablet and entered the library, instantly smelling the old books. I loved libraries and often loitered inside one of New York’s many. My favorite was the main branch of the New York Public Library: lion statue on guard, the immense pillars and ornate finishes inside. They always set my spirits on a high, and even though this place was nothing but an ancient video store with books on the shelving now, I still appreciated it.
Sunlight cascaded through the west-facing windows, and several elderly women sat in chairs, reading some well-worn paperback thrillers. I smiled at one as she glanced up at me, returning my gesture in kind. I walked
past a few displays of popular items, stopping at a section of alien and UFO interest. They were playing off the sightings that Cloud Lake had a history of, and I scanned through them, finding one volume I’d never heard of before. I flipped to the end and saw it was written by a local man about twelve years ago.
I stuck it under my arm and carried on to the front desk. A woman was typing away at a computer, her glasses perched on the end of her nose, perilously close to making a jump for it.
I cleared my throat. “Hello. I’m wondering if you can point me toward Maddie Lawson?”
The woman seemed surprised. “I’m Maddie. What can I do for you?” She used a finger to slide the spectacles up the bridge of her nose.
“I’m with the Brownstone Beat, and I’m doing an article on the recent sightings around Cloud Lake. I was wondering if you’d be willing to talk to me about Carly Miller?” I used my friendliest voice, smiling widely.
“What a tragedy. Poor girl, poor family. What does that have to do with your story?” she asked.
“There could be a connection. I’m trying to cover all bases,” I told her.
“How does a phony UFO sighting relate to Carly being taken from a sleepover?” Maddie asked.
“I’m only saying someone could have used the lights as a distraction. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened in Cloud Lake,” I said, swallowing hard.
“Did you say you’re from around here?” she asked.
“No. Eva, from New York. The City.” I smiled again.
“Well, I don’t have much to tell you other than what you probably know already. She was over at the Uptons’ house and apparently vanished in the middle of the night. The girls thought she went home, but she never made it. No sign of her anywhere. We scoured that neighborhood. Sheriff brought in dogs from the city, even. Nothing. It’s so tragic. Nancy Miller is my best friend. You should see her…” Maddie was crying, tears flowing down her face, streaking the thick mascara around her eyes.
I patted her hand over the counter, and she sobbed. “Where do the Uptons live?” I asked.
“Only five houses down from Nancy. That’s why she never minded Carly walking herself there all the time. She’s been doing it since she was a little girl. We’re in Cloud Lake. Nothing like this ever happens.”
Lights Over Cloud Lake Page 10
