The Fading

by Christopher Ransom

  ‘It’s not the eyes,’ Anlun said. ‘It’s the brain. You’ve gone into memory somehow, in a way that not only wipes you from their minds and eyes, but takes away the possibility of them ever recognizing – of remembering – you ever again. At least, unless you want them to. Unless they see you again, in the flesh, memory-stamping you at a later time and place, and so on.’

  Noel said nothing. He was thinking of his mother, the damage done.

  ‘After Dalton’s body was found, we set up a perimeter around the resort. You were spotted in the cab line, then we kept finding you and losing you at the airport, when it became evident you had control over it. On and off, whenever it suited you. We knew you were heading for Los Angeles, so we canceled as many tickets as time permitted and placed our bet.’ Anlun stretched his long legs and adjusted his belt. ‘Imagine the applications of that, Noel. Casting a defensive cone against all witnesses within your given perimeter, through walls, up and down several floors, clearing the building, a city block, leaving no evidence where it matters most. In the minds of the ones who were there. If I can control the access to the scene and who sees the evidence after, and you can control the witnesses from inside, well, whatever it is, it’s like it never happened.’

  ‘No,’ Noel said. ‘It happened. But no one will ever be able to connect me to it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve been on this for a while,’ Noel said. ‘You know more about it than you’re telling me. How many others are there? What else do you have them doing?’

  Anlun handed the DVD case up front in exchange for a single disc. ‘There aren’t any others, not any more. We’ve come close to a few, but not like you, not like this.’

  ‘Dalton said there are dozens more. Maybe hundreds.’

  Anlun thought about this. ‘Maybe. People are strange, you know. When they have something, a talent like yours, a power, they tend to get very cagey. It tends to ruin them very quickly. They go into hiding, fall into drug and alcohol addiction, commit suicide. Until someone comes forward or we get lucky the way I got lucky finding you in Boulder, you’re our best hope. And, frankly, your shelf life’s probably not much better than a car battery’s.’

  Noel did not think any of this was good news. ‘Best hope for what?’

  ‘I told you that on the plane,’ Anlun said.

  ‘You said you needed me find something precious for you in Bolivia. You didn’t tell me what or why or anything else about it.’

  Anlun eyed him up and down. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes were deep with sadness, and more, some kind of personal failure.

  ‘Would I be correct in assuming you haven’t been following the news much lately?’ he said at last.

  ‘I’ve been preoccupied.’

  ‘There’s a lot of eyes on this one now, but they don’t know what’s going on inside, how bad it really is. The potential for a public relations disaster has become enormous. This makes our job difficult. A lot more difficult.’

  Anlun inserted the last disc. This time he did not turn and face the screen when Noel did. He simply sat sideways, watching Noel. Reading him, his reactions to what was unfolding on the monitor.

  It was very boring for almost seven minutes, then disturbing without being clear what was going on, who these people were, or why they all looked so miserable. The footage was grainy, sloppily captured, in and out of daylight and nighttime. Then there were a lot of people, white and black and brown, men and women and children, filing down a trail in some sort of woods or sparse jungle, all dressed alike in plain gray clothes, walking toward a tent with stadium lights raised up on poles.

  There was a jarring cut, then static, then they were standing in rows in a large room, like a gymnasium or auditorium of some sort, though it might have been open air, the sky too dark to tell. There were bleachers. Then a man stepped on stage before them and began to talk. Calmly and jovially for a few minutes, then with increasing energy. Soon he was pacing, winding up like a motivational speaker, then thundering with anger, and the audience was no longer miserable but animated and, with alarming and unnatural speed, becoming rapt.

  They cheered and smiled and clapped, but their eyes were dull, vacant, lost.

  The footage jump-cut to a smaller room. There were fewer people in this one, and the same man, who was handsome but chubby, his face sweating, his hair mussed. He wore different clothes from the others, a suit of sleek black cloth that seemed to be all of one piece, some kind of holy garment that might have been homemade. He wore large-framed glasses and pointed at the gathered ones with hands clad in leather work gloves.

  Then some people were standing but others were down on the ground, crawling over one another, crawling toward him only to be pushed back from the shorter stage he prowled. He stepped down into ‘the pit’ (as Noel was coming to think of it) and two other men, both enormous in size, closed in beside him. And then he – the speaker – and he alone was doing things Noel did not believe one human being could do to another. Then he did another thing, and another, to someone else. The people changed in ways that should not be possible. They became animals and anarchy erupted and when they turned on one another barehanded and baring teeth, Noel looked away.

  ‘Stop,’ he said. ‘Turn it off, now.’

  Anlun reached across the console between them and took Noel by the back of the neck. His enormous rough hand felt like a barbell with the strength of a shop vice. Anlun squeezed his neck and drove his face downward, within inches of the screen. Noel glanced from the corner of his eye and what he saw terrified him more than what was unfolding on screen.

  Anlun’s lips were pulled back, his teeth grinding. His eyes were inflamed and the veins beneath the skin of his forehead were pulsing like small rivers.

  ‘Not me,’ Anlun growled. ‘Them. You look at them and see what’s happening down there. You two-bit carnival freak, you watch that until the very end and then you can look at me, not one second before. Do I make myself clear?’

  Noel tried to nod but he could not move his neck. Anlun felt him try. He released, and Noel’s neck began to refill with blood that had been damned up.

  Onscreen, the motivational speaker man from before was back. He had something long in his hand, a steel rod of some sort. It wasn’t until after he began to use it and the subjects began to jump that Noel realized it was a cattle prod. A cattle prod with something pronged and sharp attached to the end.

  ‘One other thing you should know,’ Anlun said. ‘And this was news to me just two months ago.’

  Noel covered his mouth and fought to keep from throwing up.

  ‘My former son-in-law, who earlier this year lost what few brains he ever had, he’s in there. With them. With that. He’s part of it now. He came back to the States once to empty his bank accounts for the cause, and on the way back decided to take my granddaughter with him.’

  Noel jerked away from the screen and stared at the non-agent. Anlun raised his eyebrows, daring him to say anything else.

  41

  The rest of the fifty-minute ride to Calabasas passed in silence. Noel was too stunned by the implications of what Anlun had shown him to notice where they were going until the agent driver swung the SUV into the driveway of the large Mediterranean home and Noel saw his father’s old restored Saab in one of the three open garage bays.

  ‘Why do you have to involve my family?’ Noel said.

  ‘We’re not involving them,’ Anlun said. ‘This is where you get off.’

  ‘Aren’t you staying? Coming back for me? What is this, my last day of R&R before we hump out?’

  Anlun shook his head. ‘We’re not coming back. You’re free to do as you please, Mr Shaker.’

  Noel would have scoffed if he didn’t think doing so would have pissed off the non-agent again. His expression must have been enough.

  ‘If you’re going to run, you’ll run,’ Anlun said. ‘I can’t make you do anything. Fritz, do we have any more coffee up there?’

  The driver
produced a thermos. Before taking it, Anlun said, ‘Is it hot?’

  ‘Iced,’ Fritz said.

  ‘Then what the fuck did you put it in a thermos for?’

  Fritz did not reply for a moment. ‘To keep it cold?’

  Anlun waved him off and looked at Noel. From his suit pocket he removed a business card and Noel took it. No name or address. Only a phone number.

  ‘Call me if you have any thoughts.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Noel said. ‘This isn’t … does my family know?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘This. About me, you, Vegas, everything.’

  ‘Not unless you tell them,’ Anlun said. ‘Which I doubt is a good idea.’

  Noel fell back in his seat. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘I’m a man of my word. We talked. You listened. You’re free to go.’

  ‘No,’ Noel said. ‘I’m not free to do anything. You’re going to track me, you’ll be there, you’ll always be there. It doesn’t work this way.’

  ‘No? How does it work?’ Anlun looked at his watch.

  Noel looked up through the windshield, to the house. He thought he saw a curtain move.

  ‘Go see your family,’ Anlun said. ‘They’re probably worried about you.’

  ‘What about Julie?’ Noel asked. ‘On the plane, you said if I ever wanted to see her again. You said they were in custody.’

  ‘I wanted to make sure I had your attention.’

  ‘Unbelievable.’

  ‘The world is full of unbelievable, Shaker. But it’s still just the same old stupid world. Now get out of my car. I’m late for a meeting.’

  Noel could not help looking back after he opened the door and slipped halfway out. He was sure they were going to grab him and tranquilize him at any moment. But the three men only sat staring forward, waiting for the door to close.

  ‘Look,’ he said, leaning in to address Anlun. ‘I wish I could help you, but I have to stay here. I have some things I need to put right with my girl. My father … I can’t do the things you want me to do. I just … there’s not a chance in hell.’

  Anlun glanced at him. ‘Understood. Thanks for hearing us out.’

  Noel backed away and shut the door softly. The big black rig reversed from the driveway, straightened and shot off through the neighborhood.

  ‘That didn’t happen,’ Noel said, shifting his lone tote bag from one hand to another. ‘There’s no way.’

  His father stepped out onto the porch and set a hand over his brow to shield his eyes from the sun.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘It’s me, Dad. Noel.’

  John Shaker lowered his hand. ‘What do you want?’

  Noel walked up onto the porch and stopped a few feet from his father. ‘I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes.’

  ‘Julie’s not here.’

  ‘All right. Does that mean you and I can’t have a conversation?’

  ‘You disappear for four years, doing God knows what in Las Vegas. You take our daughter to Las Vegas?’

  ‘Julie’s an adult, Dad. I didn’t kidnap her.’

  John’s face was filling with pressure as if air were being pumped into it. ‘Yes, and she’s finally sorted you out. She’s trying to get herself back on track, and I have no intention of allowing you to—’

  ‘Stop it, both of you,’ Julie said. She was standing in the doorway.

  At the sound of her voice, Noel’s heart skipped and then churned double-time. He looked past his father to her and began to smile, but she wasn’t smiling at him.

  John did not turn around, only glared at his son.

  Noel said, ‘I didn’t come here to create a problem or argue with either of you.’

  ‘And yet you always do,’ John said. ‘Please, Noel. Lisa’s not well. This is not a good time.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Noel said, watching Julie. ‘I have something that belongs to Julie, that’s all. I want to give it to her, then I’ll leave.’

  She stared at him for a moment, then stepped down onto the porch.

  John turned on her. ‘You have to be at work in an hour.’

  ‘I won’t be late,’ she told him as she walked by, taking Noel by the arm. ‘Come on. I need to eat before my shift.’

  She walked him to a used Honda sedan parked on the street. She got in and Noel opened his door, set the bag on the floor.

  ‘Give me one second,’ he told her.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ she said.

  ‘I won’t.’

  He walked back up the driveway. John was still staring at him, lips compressed into a flat seam, hands on his hips, gut sucked in, chest inflated.

  ‘I’m sorry for all of the problems I’ve caused you and our family, Dad. I don’t expect you to forgive me.’

  John allowed no quarter.

  ‘But whatever you think of me, of Mom, it’s important for you to know that we may be a lot of things, a lot of things you don’t like. But we’re not liars.’

  John shook his head. ‘I’m way past this, Noel.’

  ‘No, not yet. But you will be. Look at me, Dad. Look at me, now.’

  John stared at his son. With contempt. With disappointment.

  ‘Watch me now, Dad. Don’t blink. Are you watching me now?’

  ‘For chrissakes.’

  ‘Are you watching me?’

  ‘God knows why, but yes, I am watching you, Noel.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He faded over a period of ten seconds, until he was all the way inside. He stepped forward. He hugged his father tightly, holding him for a while. John did not move. Noel released him, stepped back, and showed himself, coloring in a smooth incoming tide. He turned his hands over, craned his neck this way and that. He smiled.

  John blinked several times.

  ‘Thank you for being my dad,’ Noel said. ‘That’s all I wanted to say.’

  John frowned, looked at Julie’s car, the houses across the street. He looked at Noel and opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come.

  ‘It’s okay, Dad.’

  John coughed and pulled himself together. ‘Well, don’t keep her late. She has a job, and homework after.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  John turned and stepped back inside.

  In the car Julie said, ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘You weren’t watching?’

  ‘I thought it was between the two of you.’

  ‘Yeah, it was.’

  ‘So? Is everything all right?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Noel said. ‘Maybe not.’

  42

  They sat on the hood of her car, a loaded cardboard carton of Double-Doubles and fries between them. Noel was sucking on a strawberry shake, Julie a chocolate. In front of them were the main runways to LAX. Every few minutes another jet floated down, wings tilting this way and that, flaps braking against the air as the engines roared and shook the palm trees lining the In N Out Burger parking lot off Sepulveda Avenue.

  ‘How far away is work?’ Noel said.

  ‘Back in Studio City, on the Valley side.’

  ‘I’m sorry I brought you all the way down here,’ Noel said, plucking a clump of melted cheese and grilled onions from the paper wrapper and cleaning his fingers. ‘You’re going to be late.’

  Julie shrugged. ‘I’m a waitress at the Mexacali Cafe. I can always find another one of those. It’s a job, not a career.’

  ‘Is there something else you’re working on?’ Julie threw a fry out onto the grass where a pigeon treated it like a worm. ‘I’m finishing my degree in art history at UCLA I only have a year and a half to go, then we’ll see.’

  ‘Maybe the MBA and travel,’ Noel said. ‘Combine the two, live in London and work in the art world.’

  Julie laughed. ‘I don’t think I can leave my mom again. I want to be close, I need a home.’

  ‘And this feels like home.’

  ‘Some days. More than anything else ever did,’ she said.


  ‘That’s good. I’m glad.’ He wasn’t even sure what he’d brought her here for. If he’d had a speech prepared, it had been rewritten so many times it was now just a mess of disappearing ink.

  Julie elbowed him in the ribs. ‘What’d you bring me?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nothing special.’

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘I’m not sure if it matters any more,’ he said. ‘Everything’s different. It was just some dumb thing.’

  ‘It’s not dumb if you thought it was important. Give it to me, or else I’m going to be pissed.’

  He looked at her, in her black dress shirt and the jean skirt and her black wedge heels. Her hair was shorter. Her skin was brown and looked as smooth as a seal’s. He could tell she had been sober for weeks, probably from the first night she left Las Vegas.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. You look like an angel.’

  She groaned and shoved him away. Noel walked around to the car door and leaned in for the bag. He came back and used the hood as a stage. He set up the traveling show, with the caged boxcars, the safari jeep, the lions and elephants and rhinos, the monkeys and the red canvas pop-tent. When he had arranged them all, he removed the mustached man in his hat and macho boots and placed him beside the tent. Lastly, he took the brave woman with her sexy khaki shorts and her plastic whip raised in one arm, and set her on the other side of the tent.

  Watching Julie, he shifted the woman closer to the man. ‘There?’ he asked.

  Julie laughed.

  ‘Maybe too close,’ he said, and moved the woman a few paces away from the tent. ‘I don’t think they’re ready to share a tent yet.’

  ‘Aw, Noel.’ Julie slid down from the hood and hugged him, holding him with her small arms until he was against her and with her from knees to shoulders. She set her cheek against his chest and he ran his palm down the back of her hair, slowly, making it last as long as he could.

  She looked up, searching his eyes. ‘What happened to you out there?’

  Noel shook his head. ‘Nothing important.’

  She knew better. ‘I don’t want to know. Except for one thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’