Ascent (21 page)

We stand out there for an eternity, just waiting for him.

Shannon’s the first person to give up and go back on the bus. I don’t blame her; my skin sizzles under the desert sun. Casey shares the worried expression that I have burning inside me. She shrugs her shoulders and heads to the bus. Marcus goes next. The air conditioning is blasting inside. Inside the bus are bottles of water and food. I don’t blame them.

My skin blisters, but I stay rooted to the spot. It’s just Rick, Dr. Thompson, Liam and I out in the heat. I shift further into the shade. Rick’s skin’s so red that it looks like it’s boiling. His face is strained. I know Rick counted Matt as his only friend.

Dr. Thompson looks at the digital timer on the Slider. I can see the time over his shoulder. Matt was supposed to be back hours ago. The vortexes on the other side are closing.

He missed the window

Dr. Thompson shakes his head and starts pacing. We’ve been standing around in silence, everyone exhibiting their own way of dealing with their nervous energy. Everyone is too on edge to say a word.

The time has passed and we have to accept what no one wants to say.

“I’m going to have the bus take everyone back to headquarters. Farrah, you need your rest and there’s no way of knowing what happened to Matt. Why don’t we pack our stuff up and get going. Liam, go ahead and bring the van around so we can head back.”

I make eye contact with the others, but still no one speaks. I know the silence is part because of me. It’s no secret how I feel about Matt. No one wants to say out loud what everyone believes.

Matt’s not coming back.

Liam pulls the bus around and we start loading the gear. I take a seat in the front by the window and lean my head against the glass. Out the window I watch Liam and Dr. Thompson speak to each other. Dr. Thompson looks at the time on the Slider again. He holds it up and starts pressing buttons. Then he shakes his head. Liam says something and Dr. Thompson waves him away. Liam heads towards the van and Dr. Thompson returns back to his seat.

Liam steps into the van and sits in the driver’s seat. “Get your goggles on,” he calls out behind him, not bothering to check if we comply. I pull the mask over my eyes, thankful to block out the world. He starts the engine and pulls away.

***

The bus pulls into to the hotel garage and the heavy metal door shuts with a
clank
behind us. I’m the first person off. I walk into the lobby in a daze. It’s full of security guards. I overhear something about a breach that occurred while we were gone. Out the window I see a white sheet covering something shaped like a body. The sheet is splattered with red. I head over to the elevator to return to my room. I don’t want anyone to see me.

My room is dark. I don’t bother to turn on the lights. I walk to my bed and pull the blankets up to my chin and close my eyes. I’m still wearing the clothes I put on this morning. The smell of dried sweat from too many hours outside burns my nose.

I should get up to take a shower but I don’t.

Visions from the day are like a movie in front of my eyes. I close my eyes and try to make Matt’s face disappear. But there he is, standing in the middle of the desert, waiting for the vortexes to open up to take him away.

I hope nothing happened to him, that the vortexes didn’t pull him into nothing but his constituent molecules. I don’t think it’s that, though. I think he didn’t come back because he didn’t want to.

When I came out here, all I wanted was one more moment with my mother. I can barely remember her. My memories are fading to nothing but what I see in the films. I wasn’t expecting to fall so hard for a guy I just met. A guy who had a secret from the past he needed to resolve.

I’m about to get my chance.

I lay it on my bed and turn to my side. Tomorrow is my turn. It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for ten years.

***

I must doze off because the buzzing of my alarm startles me enough that I almost fall out of bed. I turn my head; my neck is stiff and my head hurts like I slept all night with my jaw clenched shut.

I open my mouth. My jaw pops. I lift my arms over my head and stretch.

I want to close my eyes again when I’m startled awake by the memory that today’s my day. Today’s my day to travel.

It’s my turn to go back.

I sit up and swing my legs to the side. The room’s so quiet.I pad down the hall to the shower.

***

I don’t eat; we’re not supposed to. I wait in the foyer with everyone else. I’m leaning forward with my eyes closed, trying not to think too hard about what’s about to happen.

If I think too hard about it, it will freak me out.

I hear a door open and the sound of murmurs. I look up and see Dr. Thompson with Marvin Winn. Marvin is wearing a suit. He looks like he aged over night.

For a man with a time machine, he doesn’t seem to be using it to stop the aging process.

“I’m glad everyone is down here. I want to talk to you about what happened to your classmate.”

Marvin smiles at us and makes his way over to a chair. Dr. Thompson waits as Marvin slowly sits down, balancing his weight on his cane as he lowers himself into the chair. Once he’s settled he looks around the room and gives us a warm smile.

“Matt was supposed to enter the vortex to return home. There were several vortexes available and he’s failed to return. We believe something happened in the past that prevented his return. Perhaps he went outside the list that Lisa provided. It’s important when you go back to only follow what’s on the list. Now he’s missed the window. All efforts at communication have been lost. Our research shows that missing the Slide by more than five hours makes it exponentially more difficult to return.”

Dr. Thompson gives us a few minutes to absorb the information. I feel eyes on me, boring into me, waiting for me to freak out, but I choose to ignore them.

“We need to make sure everyone understands part of the agreement you signed when you came to IYD. You’re going back to change
only
what we asked of you. Nothing else. We need you to return through the open window. Now, I need everyone to review the document you signed when you entered IYD. Don’t go against Party rules. The outcome could be disastrous.”

Dr. Thompson pulls a stack of papers from inside a folder he’s been holding in his right hand and starts passing the papers around. It’s the same release agreement we signed when we came.

The reality of what’s about to happen hits me like falling meteor.

I pretend like I’m reading the agreement even though I have it memorized.

Once everyone has signed the form, Marvin stands up like he has something to say.

He says, “Class.” We all look up. Everyone listens when Marvin speaks. “You are the Party’s future. The Slider is truly a world changing invention and the proper use of the Slider is imperative. Please, it’s important you follow your timeline as close as possible. We need you to return. We don’t want to lose anyone else.” His eyes are on me when he finishes speaking.

But he’s got nothing to worry about.

***

I must hold my breath as we drive out to the desert because every few seconds I find myself gulping for air. My mind is filled with thoughts about Matt and worry about sliding into the past.

What if the reason Matt didn’t come back was because the travel wasn’t safe? I mean; Rick’s the only person who has come back. What if the Slider doesn’t work? What then? Will I get trapped in the tunnel? Will all the molecules in my body get ripped apart, disintegrating me?

Norris and Matt both disappeared after entering the vortex. What if I’m next?

I shake my head. I can’t let myself freak out. I came for one reason and one reason only: to have one last moment with my mother. And nothing is going to stop me from seeing her one last time.

Dr. Thompson calls my name, breaking through my panicked thoughts.

It’s time to go.

Chapter Thirty-One

Farrah–Kate

Ten Years Earlier

She sits in front of the mirror on her red velvet vanity chair. She leans closer to the mirror, examining her features and then backs away. I watch her from the doorway of her room as she pulls back the skin on her forehead. Her very faint wrinkles disappear. They’re more like smile lines, really. She spreads red lipstick over her lips and smiles. She’s the Joker from Batman. The smile is all wrong though. There’s no happy behind the smile.

My heart feels like it might burst. It’s her; it really is her, after all this time.

It’s my mother.

I want to say something but I can’t. Back then I used to watch her in silence as she sat for hours examining her expression. I should’ve told her how beautiful she looked. She always looked beautiful to me – in a frozen and distant type of way – like an ice princess.

Life is full of should haves.

I feel something brush up against my leg. It’s Bandage.

“Hey, Bandage!” I reach down and scratch his head. Bandage was my cat. Poor cat got hit by a car on a day my dad left the front door open to grab the phone. A piece of my heart breaks off as I bend down to scratch his head.

Mom wipes red lipstick off her teeth and tries another smile. The looks are her movie star poses. They’re the looks that, at one time, made her famous.

The sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway, headed my direction. I forgot what the sound of Dad’s heavy steps sounded like on our house’s wood floors back when he was so full of life. The sound
thud, thud, thud
s down the hall. I cross my arms in front of myself protectively.

His eyes narrow when he sees me standing outside Mom’s room. “Farrah, you should be in bed. What are you doing up still?”

I hesitate. I was always a little afraid of Dad when I was a kid. “I want to say goodnight to Mom.” My voice is high and small. It’s so quiet that I barely hear the words coming out of my mouth. I’m eight again and my mom’s still alive. I want to save her from her demons but I don’t know how.

“Well,” he says, and he peeks in the crack of the door at her. She doesn’t turn around. Like she doesn’t even know we’re outside. “She hasn’t been feeling well lately. Maybe you should just go off to bed. It’s way past your bedtime. You should’ve been in bed hours ago. Mom’s going to take you to an audition tomorrow and she can’t have you falling asleep on set.”

I can’t stop watching her through the crack in the door. I want to go in the bedroom and hug her, but I can’t. I’m going through the motions of a past that already happened.

“Farrah,” Dad says again. He reaches over and puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to get off to bed.” And he directs me away from the door.

I walk down the hallway, towards my darkened bedroom.

***

Mom’s audition is at the Centennial. The part is for a commercial. That’s it, just some crappy commercial for laundry soap. It’s been a long time since Mom has been in a movie. She’s wearing a denim skirt from K-Mart and huge Hollywood sunglasses that cover the circles under her eyes. I follow her out to the car and get in the backseat without saying anything. Being around Mom is like being in the presence of a sun that’s about to explode, shining with everything it’s got for one last time. I’m afraid to say anything around her at all.

We listen to Nirvana and Pearl Jam on the drive. Mom weaves in and out of traffic. She moves into the right lane. A horn blares and I peek out the window at a car that’s just inches from us. Mom swerves back into her lane. I catch my breath. I don’t know why a near sideswipe would make me nervous. I know nothing is going to happen to me. That’s the amazing thing, knowing for certain that it’s not me the Grim Reaper is about to come looking for.

It’s Mom I’m worried about.

***

We pull into the parking lot. The lot is filled with fancy cars with foreign names – the vehicles of the stars who have already made it and studio executives sitting around conference tables to discuss the Next Big Thing. Mom drives towards the back of the lot to park next to the hopefuls: beaten down metal boxes. One has a broken window. The car she parks beside has a huge dent on the bumper. She cuts the engine, then holds perfectly still and doesn’t move. I hear deep breaths and can see her chest expanding from where I sit in the backseat. The upholstery is peeling back and I tug at the foam from inside the seat while I wait. Another car pulls alongside us and a tall woman with huge melon breasts and California blonde hair steps out and walks towards the building. Mom watches her reflection in the rearview mirror, but doesn’t speak.

“Mom?” I’m still getting used to my voice. It’s been so long.

She doesn’t move. I’m wearing a plastic watch with a Hello Kitty face. The second hand clicks around the circle. Her audition is in a few minutes, and she can’t be late. She’s not in that kind of position anymore.

I try again. “Mom?”

“Just a minute, dear, I need to fix my makeup.” Her voice is shaky. I recognize the sound of fear; Mom always let her nerves get the best of her. It sounds worse now. Like at the time I didn’t know how bad it was.