“I think I do.” Paul spoke with a tinge of anger in his tone. “You said the school signed off on the footage, right?”
Stephen nodded and looked at Rachel as if silently communicating with her. Alma could see that he was nervous, and knew that Paul had figured something out that she hadn’t as of yet.
“And I’m willing to bet that means you own the footage now.
Again, Stephen nodded.
“What does that mean?” asked Alma. “I still don’t get it.”
“He owns his own company,” said Paul. “The station hires him as an independent contractor. When the school signed off on the footage, they were giving him full ownership of it. He can use it for anything he wants, including a story on Widowsfield.”
“But what good would that footage be?” asked Alma. “It was just of me at the school.”
“The piece would look better if we had shots of you,” said Stephen. “We didn’t want to go that route, but we thought it’d be good to have some footage of you, just in case. We knew you had been reluctant to talk about Widowsfield in the past, but everything worked out for the best. We were able to help pay for a new music room, and we got a chance to meet you.”
Paul was quick to intercede. “And you dragged her father into this. And you nearly got her killed last night when her father showed up at her apartment.”
“Oh my God,” said Rachel. “You didn’t tell me about that. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” Alma was anxious to avoid the subject. She’d lied to Rachel about what happened to her foot as she limped around all day, and didn’t feel like admitting to that now.
“She’s too nice to be mad,” said Paul. “But I’m not. You two put her through hell for this. Her dad is a nutcase, and he’s going to do anything he can to keep your story from getting out there.”
“Paul, it’s okay,” said Alma.
“No, Alma, it’s not okay,” said Paul. “These two pulled some shady shit here. They put you in danger. They…”
“Paul,” said Alma as she pulled her shoulders out of his grip. “I can defend myself. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”
He looked like she’d struck him, pained and ashamed.
“This is getting out of hand.” Stephen stood up and walked over to Alma. He set his hand on Paul’s shoulder, which was an oddly intimate action and Alma saw that it made Paul uncomfortable. “Paul, honestly, I never meant any harm. I swear, man. You guys have been great, and if I did anything to upset you, I’m sorry for it. I’ll help out with your insane dad any way I can.”
“It’s okay, Stephen,” said Alma and she reached out to take Paul’s hand. She guided it back to her shoulder, and then around her neck as she kissed it. “Paul, sorry I snapped at you.”
“It’s okay, babe,” said Paul. “This has been a hell of a day.”
“So, where were we?” asked Alma.
Rachel looked at her pad of paper and said, “Chaos Magick.”
“Oh, right,” said Alma. “How did you know about that?”
“Your father told us about it,” said Stephen as he returned to his seat. “He said that your mother approached him about it.”
“Really?” asked Alma. “I didn’t know about that.” Stephen’s knowledge of her past made her uncomfortable.
“They were already separated at the time,” said Stephen. “But your mother was obsessed with your brother’s disappearance, and the number 314. She wanted the address of the cabin, and she begged your father to spend some time with her, meditating on the symbol for pi in an attempt to remember something about your brother. He refused, and asked her not to force the Chaos Magick on you.”
“He doesn’t want me to remember what happened,” said Alma. “That’s why I’m going with you. Whatever it was that happened, I need to know.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rachel. “Are you saying that this Chaos Magick stuff really worked?”
“It did for me,” said Alma.
“See.” Stephen gloated.
Rachel was unconvinced. “I’m the skeptic of the relationship. It’s hard for me to believe in that sort of stuff.”
“Same here,” said Alma. “And it very well could’ve been just some mental block for me that I got past when we went to Widowsfield. I’m not saying the Chaos Magick was the reason I remembered everything, but it’s true that I was looking at the symbol for pi when, all of the sudden, all of my memories of Ben came rushing back.”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Rachel. “It probably had more to do with being in that spot, and actively trying to remember.”
Stephen chuckled and shook his head. “Or it could be that there’s something to this whole Chaos Magick thing.” He rolled his eyes and pointed at Rachel with his thumb. “She’s never willing to believe anything; a consummate atheist about everything.”
“I’m a skeptic,” said Rachel. “Isn’t that why you married me?”
Stephen shook his head. “I married you because you’re super hot.”
Jacker set his empty beer glass down hard, which rattled the table. He looked embarrassed and apologized.
“More beer!” Stephen exclaimed as he stood. “That’s what this party needs. Who needs another?”
“Everyone,” said Paul before quickly pounding his beer.
“Okay, enough shop talk.” Rachel set her pencil down and stared across the table at Alma. “Time for war, my little Scrabble victim.”
“Oh crap,” said Stephen with a dejected sigh. “Once she starts, she’ll never stop. Might as well wave goodbye to the girls for the night.”
Rachel was quick to produce an expensive looking Scrabble board that was made of wood and perched on a swiveling base. She told Alma it was a wedding gift, which Stephen said was the worst gift they received, even worse than the bread maker that they’d never used. Rachel flipped over the page that she’d been taking notes on and drew two columns to tabulate points. Within minutes, they were deep into their first game.
Paul, Jacker, and Stephen spent some time in the kitchen, drinking and talking about motorcycles while Alma focused on the game. By the fifth turn, she was already losing by a good amount, which forced her to concentrate. Paul tried to ask her something, but she angrily waved him away and hushed him as she stared at her letters.
“Geeze, babe,” said Paul. “Don’t be grumpy.” He leered over Alma’s shoulder, and she clenched her jaw as she tried to will him away.
Then he reached out and took one of the letters off the wooden stand where they were perched.
“Hey,” said Rachel. “No helping.”
Alma turned, frustrated with Paul for interfering. He’d taken a letter ‘C’ off her stand, and then he reached down and took an ‘A’.
“What are you doing?” Alma asked, annoyed.
Paul pointed at the pad of paper that Rachel was keeping score on. “Give me that real quick.”
Rachel slid the pad over and then Paul asked for the pencil as well. She shrugged and frowned at Alma before rolling the pencil across the table. “What’s up?” she asked.
Paul set the letter ‘C’ down first, and then the ‘A’. He pointed at the numbers on the corner of the tiles, a 3 and a 1. “The third letter in the alphabet is ‘C’, and the first is ‘A’, the fourth is ‘D’. What’s the number for pi?”
“314,” said Jacker.
“I know that, dumbass,” said Paul. “I mean after that. Keep going.” He started to write the alphabet down on the pad of paper, and then wrote numbers in sequence below the letters.
“Hold on,” said Stephen as he picked up his cell phone from a table in the living room. He used the smart phone to go on the internet and look up a longer sequence for pi. “3.141592.”