I saw another shadow. Another man in a black suit was even more jarring, given the contrast to his white-blond hair. He leaned on the driver’s side door, peering in.
“That’s terrible.” I felt the sweat on my upper lip. “I’m actually such a fool; I think I took the wrong turn to my aunt’s house. I have to take the next exit on the interstate, apparently.”
“You’re quite a ways from the interstate,” the blond-haired man’s voice was muffled through the glass. “You’ve taken quite the wrong turn.”
I knew they could see me sweating now. “How long has the boy been missing?” I blurted out. “His poor parents must be devastated—”
“They are,” the first black suit said, looking out down the road from which I came. “Not sure what happened to him. You didn’t see anyone strange on your wrong turn, did you?”
“Nothing but a lot of corn.” I attempted to laugh.
“Not much to take pictures of.”
I glanced at the camera in the passenger seat.
“Because the last thing the boy’s family needs is to make this situation worse, with anyone trying to document all this,” he said, still looking down the road. His hand, however, had drifted into the car, his long fingertips brushing the handle of the purse I’d hurriedly sandwiched between my hip and the door. “Doesn’t feel right… a woman by herself driving around with all this… strangeness going on. Maybe you should step out of the car.”
The blond-haired man rapped on the window. “Why don’t you step on out, ma’am.”
If you encounter anyone in a black suit, remember my sexist comment about Steven sending a woman, Dr. Roberts had warned. I heard the door handle lift.
“Oh, you’re right about that,” I leaned back casually in the seat. “I do wish my husband was here to drive, he knows I can’t find my way around anywhere except for my kitchen. And my sister can’t even make pancakes to save her life! If I don’t get there soon, my little niece Amy, who’s turning three this month—I can’t believe how big she’s getting—won’t even have a birthday cake! I don’t understand why we couldn’t have the party at my sister’s house—”
“Just be careful,” the man quickly withdrew his hand, continuing to walk across the road. The blond stared at me for a good minute before slowly walking away.
I lazily rolled up the window and gently eased the car forward.
When I finally approached the interstate entrance, I took off the head scarf and rolled down the window. The hot wind on my face was hardly refreshing, but I needed as much air as I could take. I wished desperately for some water or a Coke, something to quench my desperately dry throat.
The dark car pulled up on the shoulder of the road so quickly that I almost gasped in surprise. Theirs was a rolling stop, just enough time for me to see another man in a black suit and sunglasses at the wheel. I caught a glimpse of the teenager from the cornfield in the backseat, and a heavyset woman with her arm around him. Even though she had been far away when I saw her at the ruined house, I knew she was the teenager’s mother. Were those tears on her cheeks?
When she slammed her hand against the glass and cried out something to me, and the car sped away up onto the entrance ramp towards Springfield, all I could do was watch in horror. I saw her turn around, and then the car was gone.
I was on the interstate a moment later, breathing in and out as if I had finished a marathon. Even though it had never happened to me, I knew I was close to hyperventilating. Where were they taking them? If they’d looked at that photo, would I ever have been seen again? Should I call the police?
I knew I wouldn’t, and I hated myself a little bit more every mile I sped away. What could I do for them? I didn’t even know why the black suits had them. Of course you do. They took her because of what her son saw, and what he told her of how the missing boy went into the sky. The black suits paid her son money, and in return came and collected them all.
I’d spent the next two hours in a fog, repeatedly replaying the entire encounter in my mind. I was surprised when the sign with the population of Champaign came into view, and how near my tank was to empty. I exited the highway, gassed up, and headed straight for the university.
I wanted to rush into Steven’s office and breathlessly describe what had happened. But I knew there was no room in his world for anyone who couldn’t emotionally handle the work. So I sat in the parking lot, collected myself, and reapplied my lipstick.
Steven answered the door to his office, and I did my best to walk in calmly. I sat, smoothed out the wrinkles in my skirt, and produced the photograph.
“Dr. Roberts and his friend explained to me the theory of the crop circles.”
Steven had stared for a long time at the photograph without speaking.
“I’m very sorry to hear about your sister.”
He looked up. “He told you?”
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.” He looked back at the photograph. “I should have.”
“You know, if you shared your sister’s story with more people, then all this,” I motioned around the room, “wouldn’t seem as…”
“You know I’m not a great communicator. Thank you, Lynn. I’ll put in a call to Dr. Roberts tomorrow.”
“Tell him I did encounter a man in a black suit. Actually two. But I got away without them realizing anything.”
His astonished reaction was exactly what I’d hoped for. I crossed my legs.
“Jesus!” he said, dropping the photograph on his desk. “Lynn, what happened?”
“Who are they? The mention of these black suits by a boy in the field made both your colleagues run off like the corn was on fire. And then I saw the mother of that boy being driven away, and she looked terrified.”
“Wait, what happened?” Steven kneeled before me. “Start from the beginning.”
I’m certain he rubbed his forehead seventeen times before I finished.
“You… actually encountered men in a black suits? You’re certain?” he said.
“I’m quite sure I know the color black.”
“If I had any idea, I would have never sent you. I would never, ever have sent you.” He then took my hand in his. “I’d never forgive myself if something had happened to you.”
Somehow I remained calm, although I wanted to profess how terrified I was as well. “What would have happened to me? What happened to that mother and her son? Who are these men?”
Steven took off his glasses. “We aren’t exactly sure. They show up sometimes when people go missing. The arrival of the men in black is a clear indication that an abduction has occurred. They are the reason we have to be so secretive about our files, our findings. We know… they know about us.”
“How can you be certain?”
“Because when people vanish, sometimes our investigators go missing, too.”
“Miss?”
I looked up from the microfilm machine to see a college-age girl with a Bettie Page haircut and a polka-dot shirt smiling at me. “Are you finding everything you need? I’m assigned to archives and a few other sections, and I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Most people don’t even know how to operate these anymore,” she said with a smile. “They think Google can find everything. One day, hopefully, we’ll even have these old papers online.”
“I used to do a lot of research.” I used to be brave, too. “I’m a bit rusty on the microfilm, but it’s slowly coming back.”
“Holler if you need anything.”
I smiled back and returned my attention to the glowing square screen. I read once more through the death notices of the day, the next day’s obits, and then the day prior. As I prepared to fast forward to read the rest for the entire week, the black-and-white face of a girl whirled by.