by A. R. Wise
“The green fog?” asked Jacker. “I remember hearing about that part.”
“Yeah, although it wasn’t so much green as it was lit up with green light, if that makes sense. It was thick, and rolled through the street almost like it was more liquid than cloud. And somewhere inside of it there was an electric energy that kept bursting into green light, almost like there was a thunderstorm going on inside of the mist. My brother and I were watching a movie, Toy Story to be exact, and were waiting for the kids to get out of school. We always liked to watch them walk down the street. It was kind of pathetic, really, but we even started giving them all fictional names and pretending like they were our friends. We were waiting for school to get out when the fog rolled in.”
Alma heard the coffee maker start to chug through the last drops of water. She wanted to get up and go to the kitchen, but realized that she was just trying to find an excuse to stop telling her story. She spun the ring on her finger and forced herself to continue. “My brother and I were terrified. We didn’t know what to do, and my brother…” She paused and stopped spinning the ring. “Jesus Christ, it’s even hard for me to remember his name. His name was Ben. I don’t know why I have so much trouble remembering it. Sometimes I can’t even remember what he looked like.”
“I have trouble remembering what my dad looked like,” said Jacker. “He died in a car accident when I was twelve. My mom says he looked like me, but I have trouble remembering much about him.”
Alma recognized that Jacker was sharing his own pain as a way of trying to help. The big guy was genuinely sweet, and Alma liked him almost immediately. He was the epitome of the teddy bear personality.
“Ben wanted to tell my dad about the fog, but I told him not to go up the stairs. I begged him not to go.”
Alma paused for too long, and Paul asked her, “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed uncomfortably and looked at them both as she shook her head. “That’s just it. I can remember everything leading up to Ben going up those stairs. I was standing at the bottom as Ben went up, and then the fog surrounded the cabin. It blocked out the sun and I can remember the shadows closing in over us. The green electricity flashed and the television died, but there was still light coming from up the stairs as Ben went up. I yelled out for him to stop, and that’s the last thing I can remember about what happened.”
“The next thing I recall is driving in the car with my father. We were in the fog, and there were shadows all around us, almost like there were creatures running through the mist beside us. They were huge, like dragons or monsters or something, but I couldn’t see what they were. The electricity kept flashing and my father was screaming at me to shut up, but I wasn’t saying anything. He was driving fast, and was leaning forward as if he was trying to see through the fog. I was curled up in my seat, and my brother was gone. The worst part of all it was that I didn’t know Ben was supposed to be there. It was almost like I’d forgotten he ever existed.”
“We got out of the fog, and didn’t stop driving the whole way home except to get gas. I remember crying, a lot, and my father kept telling me to shut up. He told me that we were never in Widowsfield, and that nothing happened. He said that we were in a different town, called Forsythe, and that we never went through Widowsfield. And he kept checking his watch, over and over, for no apparent reason.”
Paul held Alma’s hand and she thanked him by the way she looked at him. His massive hand was so warm, and her thin fingers seemed to disappear in his grip. “Neither of us mentioned Ben until we got home, and then my mother went insane. I can remember her screaming and crying and shaking me, begging me to tell her what happened. It felt like she knew that my father had done something to Ben, and just needed me to confirm it, but I didn’t remember. Honestly, I didn’t even remember who Ben was anymore.”
“The police came, and my father was accused of all sorts of things, but no one could prove anything. I told them that we were in Widowsfield, but my father denied it. He said that we passed through the town on our way home, but that we’d been staying at a cabin in Forsythe. He even had the keys to prove it. The police eventually assumed I was making everything up, and that I had heard the rumors about what happened in Widowsfield. They couldn’t find any evidence that my father had done anything, so he was eventually cleared of all charges.”
“My mother never gave up, though. She was determined to find out what happened. She would take me back to Widowsfield, and try to get me to show her where the cabin was at, but I lied and said I didn’t know. I just didn’t want to go back there. My mother tried all sorts of tricks to get me to remember, including hypnosis, and even herbal concoctions that were supposed to help me remember past trauma. That’s how she got introduced to Chaos Magick.”
“What’s that?” asked Paul.
“You’ve actually probably heard of it, but didn’t know what it was,” said Alma. “Have you ever heard of The Secret? That book that Oprah used to talk about all the time?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Jacker.
“That’s basically the same thing as Chaos Magick. It’s the idea that if you focus on one thing, you can make it a reality. I never studied up on it, but my mother was obsessed with it. She said that we had to come up with a symbol that we could focus on that was tied to the day Ben disappeared. She started with his name, and would write it on slips of paper that she would hide all over the house, but when that didn’t work she decided to try the date.”
“March 14th?” asked Paul.
Alma nodded and took her ring off. “To be more specific, 314.” She held the ring up to show to them. “3.14 is also the number for pi, the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter.”
“Uh oh,” said Paul as he made a goofy grin. “We’re not getting into math, are we? Because I suck at that.”
Alma shook her head and offered a grin. “No, not exactly. The reason it was important is because the date that my brother disappeared was also a symbol; the symbol for pi. In Chaos Magick, you’re supposed to choose a symbol that you can focus on to help force everything else out of your mind. My mother started writing 314 on everything, and then switched to the symbol for pi. She would force me to stare at it for what felt like hours at a time.”
“Wow,” said Jacker. “You had some nutball parents.”
“Well, the crazy thing is that it kind of worked.”
Both Jacker and Paul sat forward in anticipation of what Alma was going to say next.
“Somehow my mom found out the address of the cabin. She took me back there, and forced me to stare at the symbol. She kept asking about what happened, but I couldn’t remember anything. And you know how I was saying that I’d forgotten about Ben?”
Paul and Jacker nodded.
“That was still the case. I couldn’t remember anything about him except for what I saw in pictures. It was as if he’d never existed except for how my mother could prove that he did. It was in Widowsfield, when my mother was forcing me to look at the symbol for pi, that I suddenly remembered who Ben was. I remember it so clearly. I was standing in the kitchen, and my mother had drawn the symbol on the kitchen floor and circled it with candles. She made me sit there and stare at it while I hummed a tune. Then, suddenly, everything came flooding back. It was the most intense and terrifying moment of my life. I can’t even explain what it was like. One minute I had no brother, and the next I was feeling such terror and grief over his loss. It was overwhelming. Easily the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, which is why I never did it again.”
“That’s so creepy.” Jacker had moved forward to the edge of his seat and was listening to Alma intently.
“It was like my brother was born and died all at the same time. I experienced the emotions of having a sibling all at once. After that, I told my mother everything I could remember about our trips to Widowsfield.” Alma sadly shook her head and stared at her mother’s ring. “It wasn’t long after that,” Alma closed her eyes and forced herself to
finish the sentence, “she killed herself.”
“Oh crap, Alma,” said Jacker. “I’m so sorry.” The big man seemed uncomfortable and uncertain how to respond. “I know we just met, but can I give you a hug? I feel like you need a big bear hug.”
Alma laughed as her eyes filled with tears. Then she nodded and stood up to accept Jacker’s kindness. He wrapped his arms around her and she tried to do the same to him, although he was too big for her hands to touch behind his back. He started with a soft hug, but then lifted her off the ground and squeezed her in a tight embrace. “You’ve got Paul to take care of you, kid. And I know how much you mean to him, so I’ll be there for you too if you need me. Okay?”
“Sure, thanks,” said Alma as Jacker set her back down.
Paul took her hand as she sat back down. “Thanks for telling us.”
“Thanks for listening,” she said. “It feels good to talk about it. I need to figure out what happened. It’s been too long. I need to know what happened to Ben.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” asked Paul.
Alma got up and went to the counter to get Rachel’s business card. She brought it back to the living room and handed it to Paul. “The reporter that interviewed me is going to Widowsfield today. She wanted me to go with her, which is why my father showed back up again.”
“How did he know?” asked Paul.
“They contacted him first, to see if he’d be willing to go on camera and talk about what happened. He followed them here, which is how he found me. He’s desperate to keep me from going back to Widowsfield, which is exactly why I have to go.”
“Why do they want you to go?” asked Paul as he looked at the card.
“They’re doing a story on the disappearances in Widowsfield for their website. They wanted me to go back there with them and talk about what happened.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Paul.
Alma responded as if he were joking. “No, not at all, but I’ve been trying to avoid this for years. I can’t keep hiding from it, and maybe this is the best way to force myself to confront it.”
“Yeah, but on camera?” asked Paul. “Why don’t you let me take you there? We can do whatever you need to do by ourselves instead of with some strangers.”
Alma considered the offer, but was already set on her course. “I know it sounds insane, but I’ve been hiding this for so long; I think the best solution is just to fling the doors open on it as wide as I can. Does that make sense?”
Paul shook his head. “Nope.”
“I get it,” said Jacker. “You want to force yourself to be honest. I can respect that.”
“I think you should be careful,” said Paul as he offered the card back to Alma. “I wouldn’t trust these people at all.”
“Then come with me,” said Alma as she took the card.
“All you’ve got to do is ask,” said Paul.
“I’m asking,” said Alma. “Come with me to Widowsfield. We can go with these guys, and tell them that we’ve got final say on what footage they use. You can help me try and figure all of this out. You can be my big, burly security guard.”
“Nothing would make me happier,” said Paul as he held Alma’s hand.
“Are you scared?” asked Jacker. Alma didn’t answer immediately and Jacker elaborated what he meant. “I’d be scared out of my mind. I admire what you’re doing, but if I were you I’d be terrified of going back there.”
“Why?” asked Alma.
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just scared of skeletons that want to be left alone in their closets.”
314
PART TWO : RESPITE
CHAPTER 8 - Preparations
March 10th, 2012
Rachel snorted loudly when she awoke. There was hardly a morning that passed where she didn’t wake up confused and frantic, and she looked back and forth in an attempt to get her bearings. She wiped the drool off her lips and then looked at Stephen to see if he was still asleep.
Her phone was ringing and the shrill pitch hurt her head.
“Crap,” she said as she slid out of bed. The new, silk sheets were slick and she fell to the floor where she cursed again.
“You all right?” asked Stephen without moving.
Rachel bounded up, wearing only a pair of underwear, and pulled the cover off the bed to wrap around herself. “Where’s my phone?” Rachel was useless in the morning, and always had trouble figuring anything out before having her first cup of coffee. It took Stephen several months to get used to her manic morning routine, but now he mostly ignored her.
Stephen was laying nude, face down on the bed, and pointed lazily toward the kitchen. “In there somewhere.”
Rachel ran off and nearly tripped over Stephen’s discarded clothes. “Phone, phone, phone,” she said as she searched. “Aha!” It was on the kitchen counter beside an empty bottle of wine. The bottle was one of two that they’d finished the night before.
“Hello,” she answered. The blanket fell off her shoulder when she tried to hold the phone against it. “God damn it.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” asked the woman on the line.
“Depends,” said Rachel. “Who is this?”
“Alma, from the school and the restaurant yesterday.”
“Oh, Alma!” Rachel tried to sound more cordial. “I’m sorry, I just woke up. I am, without a doubt, the worst morning person you’ve ever met. And to make matters worse, I’m pretty hungover at the moment. Sorry.”
Alma laughed. “I understand completely.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Have you and Stephen left for Widowsfield yet?”
“No,” said Rachel as she started to make coffee. “We’re heading out today. Why?”
“Got room for two more?”
Rachel dropped the scoop of coffee grounds. She needed to give her full attention to the phone call. “You want to come?”
“My friend and I wanted to go, if that’s okay.”
“Oh my God, yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. We’d be happy to have you. Stephen is going to be ecstatic to hear that you’re coming. We’ve been planning this for such a long time.”
“Do you have room for both of us?”
“I think so,” said Rachel. “Stephen just bought a shit load of equipment to take with us, but I think he’s planning on renting a van. I’m absolutely positive we can make room for you and… Who was it you were bringing?”
“My boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, kind of boyfriend,” Alma struggled to encapsulate the relationship. She finally just said, “Paul.”
“Sounds good. We’ll take you any way we can get you.”
“I want to discuss some stipulations about me coming though,” said Alma. “I’m still a little nervous about the idea of airing all of this for the world to know. I’d prefer to have final say on whatever you say about me or my past, and whatever footage I’m in.”
“I’m sure Stephen will agree to that. You’ll have to talk to him about it, but I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
“Okay then,” said Alma. “What time do we leave? Oh, and what sort of clothes should I bring?”
“Tell you what,” said Rachel. “As a thank you, why don’t you let me take you out to buy some new clothes? We’ll make a date of it.”
“You don’t have to do that,” said Alma.
“No, I want to,” said Rachel. “We’ll get you something nice to make you feel good being on camera. Trust me, the right clothes make all the difference.”
“Okay, you’re the expert.”
“Do you still have my card?” asked Rachel. “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have this number. You see the address on the card?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me there at ten, if that works for you.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Alma.
“Great! I’ll see you in an hour then.”
Rachel squealed in delight and spun in a circle with the phone held abo
ve her head. The blanket fell to her feet, but she was too excited to mind. She bounded into the bedroom and leapt on the back of Stephen’s legs.
“Guess what!”
“Oh Christ!” Stephen put his head under a pillow and covered his ears, clearly a victim of their celebration the night before.
Rachel put her phone on the bed and started to spank both of Stephen’s butt cheeks independently. “Get up, sleepyhead. Butt bongos, butt bongos,” she gleefully continued to slap him like an instrument.
Stephen swung the pillow back at her haphazardly and laughed when he asked, “What’s gotten into you? How are you not hungover?”
“I am, actually, I think I might still be a little drunk. I don’t know, but that’s not the point. I’ve got great news. Huge news!”
Stephen started to turn and pushed her off the back of his legs. She bounced on the bed beside him and he slid partway over her, as if trying to pin her down with a sleepy wrestling move. However, when he realized she was partially nude he perked up.
“Are you running around the house naked?” he asked, though he didn’t seem to mind.
He groped her, misinterpreting her morning surprise, and she pushed his hand away. “Stop it.”
“What?” He tried again.
“Oh my God, stop it. We don’t have time. Someone’s meeting me here in an hour and I’ve got to get ready.”
“An hour?” asked Stephen. His eyes were barely more than slits and he had a goofy drunken grin as he lecherously stared at Rachel’s breasts. “That’s way more time than I need.”
“Aren’t you even a little curious who’s coming over?” asked Rachel as she relented and let Stephen play with her breasts.
“Sure,” said Stephen for her benefit as he started to lick around her nipple.
“You’re horrible,” said Rachel, although his attention had started to arouse her.
“Yeah,” said Stephen as he kissed his way up her neck.
