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“Get Rachel to play Scrabble with you and
you’ll see her mean side,” said Stephen.

Alma raised her eyebrows and looked at
Rachel. “Be careful, I’m a Scrabble freak.”

Rachel stopped, straightened her posture,
and glared at Alma as if about to yell at her for something. “Don’t
screw with my emotions, Alma. Are you serious? Because I’m the
biggest Scrabble nerd, like, ever. For real.”

“Me too,” said Alma pleadingly, as if trying
to convince Rachel that it was true.

“What’s your favorite word that pisses other
people off when you use it?” Rachel seemed to be testing Alma.

She thought about it for a minute. “Xi. It’s
a letter in the Greek alphabet that’s in the Scrabble
dictionary.”

Rachel’s eyes widened and she squeaked in
pleasure. “I love you so much right now, Alma. I studied the
Scrabble dictionary and came up with all sorts of little words that
no one else knows. It pisses people off so much, but I’m always
just like, ‘Go ahead and challenge me.’ They learn not to real
quick.”

“True,” said Stephen. “I won’t play with her
anymore.”

Rachel stepped toward Alma and took her
hands. She had an oddly serious look on her face as she spoke.
“Alma Harper, would you do me the honor of playing Scrabble with me
tonight?”

Alma laughed. “I’d love to, as long as you
promise not to take back all the stuff you bought me after I beat
you.”

“Oh, those are big words, little girl,” said
Rachel. “I haven’t lost a game of Scrabble in over a decade at
least.”

“Lord have mercy,” said Stephen. “It’s like
the dork circle is finally complete. My wife found her soul mate. I
guess me and the guys will just have to break out the Xbox or
something.”

“Oh yeah,” said Alma. “Which friend of
Paul’s is coming along?”

“A big guy,” said Stephen as he held his
hand well above his head, “named Jacker.”

“Oh, okay,” said Alma. She looked at Rachel
and added, “You’ll like him. I only met him last night, but he’s a
really nice guy.”

“Jacker is a weird name,” said Rachel.

“He’s into computers,” said Alma.

“He’s a cool guy,” said Stephen. “I feel bad
about what happened with his girlfriend.”

“Why?” asked Alma. “What happened?”

Stephen looked like a deer caught in the
headlights as he stared at Alma and Rachel. “I’ve said too much.”
He made a zipper motion over his lips and tried to walk away.

“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “You have to tell
us now. What happened?”

“Sorry, babe, I’m not one of your gossipy
friends,” said Stephen. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask
him. It’s not my place to say.”

“Oh fine, be like that,” said Rachel. “How
long until food’s ready?”

“It’s good to go. I was just waiting on you
two.”

There was a knock at the back of the
apartment and then a door opened down the hall. Jacker leaned his
head inside, uncertain if it was appropriate for him to just walk
in. “Hello?”

“Come on in,” said Stephen.

Jacker and Paul came in through the door on
the opposite side of the apartment. Jacker saw Alma first, and put
his hand over his heart as he stumbled backward, emphasizing his
surprise. “Holy shit, Alma. You clean up well.”

Paul walked around his friend and was
astonished by what he saw. He blinked his eyes and shook his head.
“God damn, babe.”

Alma felt her ears burn as she blushed. She
ran her hands through her hair and asked, “Do you like it? It’s not
too short, is it?”

“Do I like it?” asked Paul. “Are you
kidding? You look like a super model.”

“Stop it.”

“No, he’s right,” added Jacker. “You look,”
he stopped in search of an appropriate descriptor, “stunning.”

Paul walked past his friend and came to
stand before Alma. He put his hand on the side of her face and then
gazed up and down at her. He was at a loss for words and could only
smile. Alma never felt prettier in her entire life.

“You must be Jacker. I’m Rachel.” The
strawberry blonde reporter was quick to introduce herself.

“Hello,” said Jacker as he shook her
hand.

“Tell me what happened with your
girlfriend,” said Rachel, unfettered by common restraint.

“Rachel, Jesus,” said Stephen,
embarrassed.

“Sorry,” said Rachel. “I don’t like to beat
around the bush with people. Stephen said you had something bad
happen with your girlfriend, and I want to know what happened.”

“Normal people try to get to know someone
before grilling them with questions like that,” said Stephen as he
headed for the refrigerator to get a beer.

Rachel shrugged and walked hand in hand with
Jacker toward the kitchen table. “Well, I’m not a normal girl.
Here, sit down and talk to me.”

Jacker obeyed, although he looked
uncomfortable.

“Now tell me what happened. I know a lot of
pretty girls who are suckers for a guy with a broken heart. Trust
me.”

Alma and Paul went to sit at the table with
them as Stephen got everyone something to drink. The dining room,
living room, and kitchen were all connected, but there was a thin,
paper partition adorned with Japanese symbols that broke up the
area. Paul tried, and nearly failed, to not knock over the
decorative wall as he edged his way around the table.

Jacker splayed his hands out over the dark
wood and tapped his fingers as he sighed. “It’s my fault, really.
I’m as much to blame as she was.”

Paul grimaced and shook his head.
“Bullshit.” He accepted a glass of beer from Stephen and Alma
assumed that Paul had already taught the host how to properly pour
their favorite beer because it had the perfect amount of head on
it. “Don’t blame yourself for it. That bitch cheated on you, plain
and simple.”

“Is that true?” asked Rachel.

Jacker nodded and then crossed his arms.
“Yeah.” He was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable with the
conversation, but Rachel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She
was a consummate journalist, more interested in the details of the
story than the ramifications of discussing it.

“Why do you think it’s your fault then?”
asked Rachel.

“Because, I don’t know, I should’ve paid
better attention to her, taken her out more; that kind of
stuff.”

“But, she cheated on you, right?” asked
Rachel.

“Yep, with the stock boy at her work,” said
Jacker. “She’s a cashier down at the grocery store on Thirtieth and
Boston.”

“If she’s the one that cheated, then she’s
the one to blame,” said Alma.

She hadn’t meant it as a barb for Paul, but
realized that it would be after she said it. Still though, she
didn’t feel bad. He deserved to feel guilty for some of his past
mistakes.

“All right,” said Stephen loud enough to end
the conversation. “Let’s give the guy a break and focus on the next
few days.” He set a glass of beer in front of Jacker.

Jacker tipped the glass in Stephen’s
direction and said, “Thanks.” It was obvious that he was thankful
for more than the beer.

Stephen sat down and leaned back until the
top of his chair rested against the wall. “Let’s talk about
Widowsfield.”

“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “Let’s save it
for the show.”

Stephen let his chair drop back down and
then crossed his arms. He nodded his head as if coming to the
conclusion that his wife was right. “Okay, fine. But let’s at least
go over the agenda.”

“Okay,” said Rachel.

“If we leave tomorrow morning we can get
there before dark,” said Stephen. “I figure we should stay the
night in Branson, which is about forty miles from Widowsfield.
Then, on Monday morning, we’ll head out to the old Main Street.
It’s a ghost town now. We can do some filming there, and get a
bunch of b-roll, that’s just exterior shots that we’ll use to fill
in places for the actual show. It’ll give us a chance to explore
some of the more famous spots around town.”

“What spots are those?” asked Alma.

“Well, like I said, there’re a lot of
theories about what happened,” said Stephen. “There was a UPS truck
in the area at the time, and the driver disappeared just like
everyone else. The guy wasn’t from Widowsfield, so it’s unlikely he
was tied to the meth ring. His truck was found on Main Street,
outside of a used book store. We can go there, and check out the
store.”

“And then there’s the hill,” said
Rachel.

“Right,” Stephen pointed at her as he
nodded. “Some of the teenagers from the area go to a hill that
overlooks a farm near Widowsfield. It’s kind of a make-out spot for
the kids, but a lot of them have reported seeing a cloud appear
over the field, filled with green light, and then suddenly
disappear.”

“I’ve seen some videos of that shit online,”
said Jacker. He was getting infected with Stephen’s enthusiasm
about the project.

“Right,” said Stephen. “It’s creepy, isn’t
it?”

“Fuck yeah it is,” said Jacker.

“I want to go spend the night on the hill,”
said Stephen.

“Surrounded by teenagers making out in their
cars?” asked Rachel with a grimace, as if this was the first she’d
heard of this plan. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t think they’re out there every
night,” said Stephen.

“I think you just want to catch a glimpse of
some teen girl’s boobs.” Rachel crossed her arms as she chided her
husband.

“That’d be cool too,” said Stephen.

“Could I make a suggestion?” Alma was still
timid around their hosts, and she had to force herself to speak up
to be heard over them as they playfully argued.

Rachel and Stephen turned their attention to
Alma. “Sure,” said Stephen as if surprised that Alma felt like she
had to ask permission.

Alma’s hands were shaking and she hid them
under the table. “I’d like to go to the cabin first.”

“Which cabin?” asked Stephen.

“The one that my father used to take us to.
It’s near the elementary school, on the edge of town.” Alma looked
down at her trembling hands and stilled them between her bony
knees. “The last time I was there was with my mother, and I had a…”
She stopped and struggled to continue. The others stayed silent as
she battled with herself to recount any details of what happened.
She felt like tears were about to spring from her eyes. She shook
her head, trying to break the odd, sudden emotion, and took a long,
deep breath. “That’s when I remembered my brother again.”

Rachel was quick to ask a question,
uninhibited by Alma’s obvious emotion. “What do you mean? You
didn’t remember him before that?”

Alma shook her head and continued to look
down. “No. Something happened that day, in Widowsfield, when the
cloud came through. I just forgot him. Not just what happened with
him that day, but everything about him. It was like he didn’t
exist. When my father and I got home, I saw pictures of him in our
house, but I didn’t know who he was. My mother was furious and kept
showing us pictures of my brother to prove he existed, and
eventually called the police on my father. It was the worst day of
my life. The cops interviewed me for hours and kept showing
pictures of Ben and me together, but I didn’t remember any of
it.”

“Wow,” said Stephen as he leaned forward,
his elbows perched on the table, to listen intently to what Alma
was saying. “How did you end up remembering?”

“At first, I thought I started to remember
him, but it was really just a trick of the brain.” Alma felt Paul’s
hands on her shoulders and leaned her head back into his stomach as
he stood behind her. She was thankful he was there to comfort her,
and she suddenly realized that she couldn’t do this without him.
“Have you ever heard about the study they did on childhood memories
where they Photoshopped pictures of people together in a hot air
balloon?”

Everyone shook their head, so Alma
explained. “They would take a picture of a father and son, and put
them in a hot air balloon even though they’d never gone in one
before. Then they’d show the people a bunch of pictures of their
childhood, most of them real, and the hot air balloon picture would
be mixed in with the real ones. Afterward, they asked about the
events in the pictures, and almost every time the patients talked
about their trip in a hot air balloon with their father. They made
up their own experience, and thought of it as real.”

“Hold on.” Rachel got up and rushed into the
kitchen. She came back moments later with a pad and pencil and was
furiously scribbling. Then she sat back down with the pencil, ready
to write more. “Okay, go on.”

“Do you always have to take notes?” asked
Stephen with a laugh.

“Yeah,” said Rachel matter-of-factly. “I’m a
reporter; it’s what I do. Go on, Alma.”

“Anyhow, I think that’s what happened with
me. I saw those photos of me with Ben, and I started to believe in
them. I made up a relationship with my brother, even though I
couldn’t remember that he ever existed. Then I went to Widowsfield
with my mother, and it all changed.”

“What happened?” asked Rachel. She was quick
to respond and was ever vigilant with her pencil, ready to take
down every bit of information that Alma was willing to divulge.

“Chaos Magick,” said Stephen, and his
response surprised everyone at the table. “Am I right?”

Alma nodded. “Yes. You mentioned it at the
restaurant too. How did you know about that?”

“I’ve been researching you for a long time,
Alma,” said Stephen. Then he smiled and sat back. “Not to sound too
creepy or anything. I’ve been looking into supernatural stories all
around the country, trying to figure out which one would make a
good first feature for our site. That’s when I discovered that you
lived near us. Once we figured that out, we knew it was Widowsfield
that we wanted to focus on first.”

Alma was confused as she thought about what
Stephen was saying. “Then why didn’t you come to me first? Why did
you go try to find my father first?”