“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?”
Rachel and Stephen appeared uncomfortable. Rachel was the first to try and explain. “Well, we wanted to test out our format first, so we went to Philadelphia and did that story on the haunted house. That’s what got everyone buzzing about our site in the first place. Since we were there, we decided to interview your father.”
Alma thought about it, but still shook her head. “Still though, why wouldn’t you come talk to me first?”
Neither of them was willing to answer, and it became apparent that they were hiding something. They couldn’t hide their guilt.
“What’s going on?” asked Alma. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Okay.” Stephen put his hands down on the table as if laying out his hand in a card game. “I’m going to be totally honest with you, because you deserve to know everything.”
Alma’s heart started to beat faster and her hands clenched into fists. She was getting angry, and she could feel Paul’s grip tighten on her shoulders. He knew how to recognize when she was getting mad.
“We’re the ones that pushed for you to get the new classroom at your school.”
Alma’s anger subsided, and she felt the tension release from her muscles. “What? I don’t get it. Why would you do that?”
“Well, we knew that we wanted to get to know you better, and we needed a good way to do it. Rachel proposed the story to her network, and they agreed to go along with it. We got the school to sign off on everything, and we set it all up.”
“I thought it was a PTA thing,” said Alma.
“It was,” said Rachel. “Blair was great, and she did most of the work. She and the others really adore you, Alma. They loved the idea of setting you up with a new music room.”
“Then why the subterfuge?” asked Alma. “Why didn’t you just come out and tell me this right away? Why go to all the trouble of setting something like that up? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did! I just don’t understand.”