by Jill Cooper
Tears sting my eyes and Jax stares down at the phone like it physically wounds him to see it. “Want to guess who it is? Huh?”
“I don’t have to.” His voice says softly. “It was me. But it isn’t what you think.”
I cock the safety back on the gun. “Like hell it isn’t.”
He swallows hard and his Adam’s apple rises and falls with each breath he takes. “If you do this, Lara will be alone. Without her mother. You.”
“Don’t pretend you care what happens to Lara.” My heart pounds so fast, I can barely hear anything but the rapid fire beat in my ears. I want to pull the trigger so bad, but part of me holds on. Begs me not to do it, but if I do it, I know some of the pain will go away. Everything will be more manageable. The anger won’t be so bad.
“She loved you, John. You were it for her.” Jax slowly stands up and he blinks. There’s tears in them. Like his heart is broken. Turns out pretty boy really can feel.
“We were just working on a few details about work. Training her replacement. She never stayed late after she came clean to you. Despite everything I said and tried to change her mind, she loved you.”
“How can I trust the things you say? How can I trust her?” The words choke out of me and since the police gave me back her phone, I’ve felt like my life was a lie. Everything Miranda told me over the last week, the moments in which we made love, or made dinner with our daughter—like it was all a game.
Underneath she was laughing at me. That’s how I felt.
And now it was like a fuse in me went out. I lower the gun to my side as security bursts through the door. They apprehend me, but Jax stands up and waves them off. “Leave him alone. Was just a misunderstanding.”
I glower at him. “Don’t do me any favors.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just walks out of the room. They take me downstairs and push me out the rear entrance. When I walk back to the front so I can catch the bus back home, Jax is standing in the corner meeting with someone.
Looks just like him. Except his hair is black. Jax goes pale when he sees me and this look alike, his twin or whatever, winks at and waves his hand. For some reason I go cold. But I let it go and get on the bus because the last thing I want to do is linger around.
Jax let me off the hook once, and I didn’t want to push my luck any more than I needed to.
****
I haven’t see Jax since then. And except for the damn notes he sends Lara a few times a year, I try not to think about him.
But now with her missing and the note on the kitchen table, I can’t help but open it. I rip it and leave it limp on the table and unfold the card left behind. A letter of apology. A letter that sounds like a confession.
Long ago I should have come to see you. You’re dad.
But I haven’t because I’m a coward.
Ten years ago I should have acted, but I didn’t. I’ve watched you struggle without your mom and I’m sorry. Sorry you won’t take my money and sorry for what I’ve put you through.
But it is all my fault. Even if I’m not the one who pulled the trigger.
I have a file. And if you use this key, I promise it’ll all be explained. For better or worse, all your questions will be answered.
My blood pressure boils that Jax wants to arrange a meeting with Lara. That all these years he’s been sending checks and information trying to weasel his way into her life. If there’s anything else I hate more than a rodent, it’s Jax Montgomery.
When I pick up the envelope to toss it in the garbage, something falls out and clinks as it hits the ground.
I bend over and pick up a small key. Turning it over in my hand my heart skips a beat. I had a key just like this as a kid when my parents sent me to the YMCA as a kid. It’s to a locker.
Why the hell was Jax sending anything to Lara?
And if he knows what happened to her, I was going to rip his ugly head off with my bare hands.
Chapter Five: Rick’s Morning
I had to hope that Lara would be at school that morning even though everything in my gut said she wouldn’t be. Hope was all I had as I rose early, threw on a clean hoodie and strolled out of my room.
It was still early and Mom had her usual morning shift off so I tiptoe past my parents’ bedroom and step over the squeaky floor board. Soft snores come from their latched door and the only other thing I can hear is the ticking of the old clock in the kitchen.
The idea hits me to drop by her apartment again, but if she never showed I don’t want to end up being grilled by her dad.
Once was enough. Mr. Crane was a nice guy and all, but when he was upset, he was like a growling bear.
I ride the subway to school like I usually do with Lara. Instead there is a business suit beside me reading the Metro paper and I fumble with my phone. I can’t help calling Lara again even though I know there will probably be no answer.
This time instead of voicemail I receive a message from the provider. “This phone has been disconnected by the owner.”
My heart is frantic. Lara wouldn’t disconnect her phone. Somehow I dialed the wrong number, but I always use the stored contacts so what the hell is going on?
I try again and same thing. Panic wells inside and I want to lash out and do something stupid. I want to grab hold of someone and force them to tell me what’s going on, but there’s no one around I can blame responsible. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to smash my fist into something.
When the doors open, I storm off to school. I tear through the halls like a bull in a china shop straight for Lara’s locker. Except for random kids there’s no sign of her. Frustration, anger build inside. I smash my fist against the metal door. “Ahh!” I grab my hair and lean up against it.
Donovan James the biggest and richest prick in school glares at me as he strolls by.
“Have something to say?” I snap, but he just keeps on going with his pretty boy hair and perfect clothes. He always thinks he’s a big deal because his mom ran for senator and sits a cushy job doing God knows what at Rewind.
The bell rings signaling first class is about to start. I head there and know I can’t stay long. I won’t find Lara sitting behind some desk pouring over books.
As soon as I get to home room, I slouch into my seat, tapping a pencil to the edge of the desk. A thought hits me and I raise my hand. “Can I get a pass to the library? I have a report due.”
Mr. Davis fills one out and holds it up for me, barely making eye contact with me. I shove myself up, snatch it from him and am on my way.
The library is quiet and I drop my pass off at the librarian’s desk before I head over to one of the computer terminals. There are a few kids doing research near me, and another kid coughs over by the book stacks. Quiet chatter comes from the back, a few girls giggling about something not related to library books.
Just another day of school for everyone.
Except for me.
The computer fires up and I input my student ID and password. I use the Internet search to try to pin down anything that might relate to Lara. Rewind Agency news, accidents, hospital news.
I can’t find anything that gives me any ideas about where she might have disappeared off to. Part of me is relieved that there are no accident records to find, but another part of me wishes there was. At least that would be easy. That would be something I could deal with.
But not knowing? That was slowly driving me crazy.
I’m ready to pack up before the bell rings when the news portal I’m on begins to blink with breaking news. I click on the flashing red banner and am brought to a weather alert page.
Giant Crater Opens Up in Boston Proper
Information is still trickling in, but a giant sinkhole opened up in Boston Proper swallowing a one mile radius. Emergency rescue efforts are under way, but police are unsure about the stability of the area and warn others to stay away.
Businesses nearby, including The Rewind Agency, are opening their doors to survivors or the homeles
s for a hot meal and are handing out blankets.
Watch this space for more information as it becomes available.
The Rewind Agency.
How was it they end up mentioned in an article about a giant sinkhole?
I lean back in my chair and am lost in thought. I think about what happened last night with the sky and the torn city streets that magically put themselves back together. Now a hole opened up in the ground, swallowing part of the city.
Were they connected? If so, how?
And why did I feel like Lara was wrapped up in all this somehow? That girl had a nose for trouble, but it never destroyed public property before.
Whatever the answers were, I had to get down there. At the very least it would keep me busy while I waited for Lara to check in and explain her actions.
I check out with the librarian and head back to Lara’s locker a final time. Now that the hallways are empty I want to check the contents to see if I can figure out what her next move would be.
When I get there, I spin the dial of the locker and put in her combination. I’m dismayed when I pull the door open and find nothing.
Nothing at all.
Her magnet mirror is gone. No photos. No stickers. It’s like the thing has been fumigated and stripped clean of everything that made this locker hers. My hand reaches inside and I pat the shelf, to make it real. It’s real enough. Stark and cold against my skin.
If someone wanted to get rid of Lara, hide all traces of her, they were doing a really good job.
But I had no proof. Maybe she snuck in here and took all her stuff, distraught that her mission failed.
Or she was caught and the police were doing everything in their power to wipe her existence off the map. But she still has the right to the legal system.
Didn’t she?
I shake my head to clear it of the crazy conspiracy thoughts I’m having. Even to myself I sound like a raving lunatic.
Hefting my books up, I head toward the side exit past the main office. It’s risky, but better than going out the front door.
A whizz of air hits me. An assault of that sweet perfume hits me again and my books go flying out of my hands. They crash to the floor as something crashes against me.
It’s warmth.
Hard like a body, but softness like a soul. No one is there, but I know exactly who I was feeling. Didn’t mean any of it made sense.
“Lara?” I’m desperate and it’s in my voice. I can’t hide it. Don’t want to. I just want to see her instead of having all these crazy jack experiences.
The static is back. Like listening the radio between signals. I hear two voices. One is a guy’s and I can’t make head or tails of it, but then I hear Lara. Whispering like she’s standing right beside me.
“If we can go somewhere we can—.”
Her voice cuts off like a signal interrupted.
“Where, just tell me where!” I call out into the empty hallway and it echoes back to me. Signaling how alone I really am.
“Lara!”
And maybe crazy too.
****
I head downtown. I get eight blocks from the sink hole before the police blockades block my path. In the background there are sirens and people cluster together in small packs.
Faces are solemn and voices are serious.
I need to get around it all so I can get to the Rewind Agency. Going in would be suicide, but there’s a part of me that needs to see it and the sink hole.
But the police block my way. The officer holds his arms out in front of me, but his eyes don’t make contact with me. Instead his eyes deviate through the crowd. It’s too big for a few officers to control.
Maybe I can use that to my advantage.
I heft my backpack over my other shoulder. “Listen, I live right down there. I just need to get by.”
He smirks and his eyes are hidden behind a pair of mirror shades.
“C’mon.” I beg. “Please. I need to grab my papers I forgot for school. I promise I won’t go near the sinkhole. I’m not a rioter. I just need to get home.”
He sighs and lets me slip by. “Go straight home, son. I don’t want to hear reports about anything fishy going.”
“Thanks, pal. You won’t regret it!” I take off running, before he can change his mind. My heels kick up and I duck behind a building.
Officers are coming and I don’t want to get caught by someone who won’t believe my sob story. I duck into a door way, suck in my breath and pray I go invisible.
Hopefully it’s enough.
They walk past and their walkie talkies beep with information. “Another sink hole’s been detected on the water front over by the Hood bottle. Officers needed on site.”
The old Hood bottle is a concession stand over by the children’s museum in the fisherman district. How many more sink holes can there be? Is Boston going to just fall into the harbor?
None of it feels right. None of it.
I wait for the officers to be completely out of sight before I make my way toward the sink hole. The area around it is like a graveyard. Quiet, empty. Everything feels solemn.
Then I see it.
A major crater in the ground. The street around it is cracked. Debris of personal belongings lay on the ground where they fell. A blue car is half inside a broken crevasse while a school bus is over turned on its side.
The street is like a washed away sand castle. The closer I get to the police tape surrounding the sink hole, the less stable the ground feels. But I want to get close, so I keep going.
Edging my feet on. I inch forward until I can see inside the sink hole. I grip the police barricade and peer down.
Eyes frozen in horror, I don’t know what to expect, but the shooting lights of stars isn’t it.
A gush of wind pushes my hair back and I realize I’m not staring at dirt or old road structures.
I’m staring directly into space.
Stars and dust. Blackness and the infinity of it all clenches my heart.
None of it can be possible. It shouldn’t be happening.
What the hell is going on?
****
When I’m this lost and need to think, there’s only one place I go. With or without Lara I head to the Charles River footbridge and sit on some rocks, gaze out at the river.
Why? I’m not sure.
There’s something calming about watching the sailboats and the students running the track. There are couples on the lawn, some children playing and the hot dog vendor’s shouts to bring in business are something I don’t have. Something I rarely did.
Normal.
My parents tried hard, they did, but it didn’t keep my brother from the gangs. Dealing drugs and being sent away to prison nearly destroyed me. But I had Lara, somehow that cemented me and it saw me through the grief. I vowed I’d never follow in his footsteps.
Mom and Dad kept a close eye on me. Sometimes I hated it, but I knew why they were worried. So I wasn’t exactly normal in the everyday sense.
But hearing voices? Feeling someone who wasn’t really there? That was a level of crazy I wasn’t comfortable with.
Neither were giant folds in space and sink holes on the ground so deep, you could see outer space. Shouldn’t that suck us all in? Void the planet of oxygen? Did that mean there was a giant crack in the Earth?
Why wasn’t it on the news?
The questions just came coming. And coming. I didn’t have any answers, but only more questions.
And there was one question I never asked.
Whenever Lara talked about changing the past, I warned her about what would happen to us. Would our future’s change? Would our past?
But I never wondered what would happen to those she left behind. I guess I never thought of it that way. In terms of it actually happening. It was two dimensional, a hypothetical question.
Now it was very real. What if Lara succeeded? What if Lara did change the past and now it was destroying our world?
I bit my finge
rnails as that horror sunk in. My teeth tore into it and I spat the fragments onto the grass.
Behind me there’s a crunch. I spin around expecting to see a person, but there’s only the wind blowing the leaves around. No one is there. I turn my attention back to the water when I hear a voice.
“Hey.”
I stand up and spin around. It’s happening again. Lara is like a ghost and showing up when I least expect it.
“Can you hear me?” My voice floats out into the abyss.
More deafening silence signals my defeat. Wherever she is, whatever she is doing, Lara can’t hear me. She might not even realize she’s talking to me.
Does that make her dead?
Or worse is she lost somewhere?
Chapter Six: John Takes Over
Lara never came home.
All night, I pace across the floor, wearing a hole in the carpet if only in my mind. I think she’ll show up with the usual lame teenager excuse. Scratch that. I hope she will show.
But in my heart I know if Lara asked me to be home, bring flowers, and didn’t show it’s for a very good reason.
Very good.
I catch only a few winks thanks to a fit full sleep on the sofa, half covered in a tattered blanket. By the time the sun shines through the window, I’m on my second cup of coffee.
I should be at work in a half hour, but I call in. There are things I need to do.
There are more important things on my mind.
In the cluttered bedroom, I toss on a fresh shirt. I catch my reflection in the mirror. My beard growing back. There’s no time to catch a shave. I have a date with an old friend.
My wife’s old jewelry box is hidden under photos of her and Lara. Inside I fish out a small key. I’ve kept it in case of an emergency. I bend down, grab the metal box from under the bed and unlock it.
Inside is the revolver I hoped I would never need. Hurrying through the small apartment, I grab the letter Jax sent and the key along with it. If I’m going to follow this trail he left for Lara, I’m going to need protection.
